Page 15 of Sinners MC: A MC Anthology

“So, we can assume this might have been the case here?” Saige fled a bad relationship only to be found by this monster and either had to flee or pay. But could it have been this Taylor dipshit that’d roughed her up?

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Thanks for the help. I owe you.” Capone grabbed a plate from the cupboard and covered it with a paper towel.

“You should never tell anyone in the mob that.” Arlo chuckled into the phone. “We’ll make you an offer you don’t dare refuse.”

“Hey, I’ve seen how you work. We got your back.” The Tribe trusted the Caponellis and vice versa, and that was important. “Call me anytime and I’ll come running.”

“Same here. Catch you later.”

“Will do, and thanks again, man.” He ended the call and started to carefully place the tasty pieces of meat on the plate to drain.

“That smells delicious.” Her sultry voice almost made his hair stand on end. Somehow, he missed that last night. He’d remembered her speech as tight and controlled; now it was low, sexy, and more relaxed.

Capone turned, leaned against the counter, and folded his arms in front of his chest. “How did you sleep?”

She ruffled a hand through her hair, attempting to smooth out the strands. “The best I have in a long, long time.” Saige fidgeted with the shirt he’d draped around her last night.

“The bathroom is in there if you need it. There’s a pack of toothbrushes on the counter. Feel free to use one.”

Her face turned a pretty pink, as she nodded and started to turn. “Hey, how do you like your eggs?”

“I’m not fussy. I’ll leave it up to the cook.” She smiled before leaving the room. That voice again. For some messed-up reason, it calmed and soothed him. Maybe it was just the fact Saige was here. In his home. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d brought a woman home. Capone appreciated his time alone but still he wouldn’t mind getting to know Saige better.

“Over easy, it is.” Grabbing eggs from the fridge, he added some bacon bits and cheese to his supplies. Using a different pan, he plopped some butter and swirled it around. Adding eggs, he let them simmer and tossed in some pepper and parsley. When they looked just right, he flipped everything over and tossed some shredded cheese on top.

Shoving some books and motorcycle magazines aside, he made room for them to eat. It briefly crossed his mind to wonder when the last time someone had been there. He couldn’t remember. Solitude was peaceful; if he wanted to be around people, he’d head to the club.

When Saige didn’t return, he started to worry. Was she okay? “Saige?” he called out before heading toward the bathroom. The door was open, but she wasn’t inside. His house wasn’t that big, so there weren’t that many places she could be. Dread filled him with a dose of embarrassment thrown in. His hobby wasn’t something he shared with many people.

Walking to his spare room as quietly as possible, he spied Saige studying the different items in his special room. He cleared his throat and leaned against the door frame.

Saige jumped and turned around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spy, but this…these are amazing.” She twirled around before facing him again. “Are you the artist?”

He nodded.

“Tell me more.” Her eyes were wide, and she bounced on her toes.

“What’s there to say? I loved drawing as a kid. A teacher in high school thought I had talent and got me interesting in painting.”

“There’s so many different ones also. Landscapes, portraits, animals, and this one of the woman by the motorcycle. That’s Tracy. I’d know her anywhere.”

“Yeah, I just finished it and was saving it for her birthday.”

“Capone, I work at a small art gallery in Chicago. You should do a show. People would pay a fortune for these.”

“Thanks, but I’m not interested.”

“What? Why?”

Capone exhaled and pointed to his face.

“What because of the scar? What does that have to do with it?”

“No art gallery will want to have a show with someone that looks like me.” Just thinking about it brought back nightmares. He’d even been a candidate for an art scholarship. As a kid from a poor family, that was huge. Unfortunately, the night before his high school art show, he decided to go and celebrate with some friends in town. There were tons of people in town that weekend. As they passed a bar, they were pushed to the sidewalk when a couple guys fighting crashed through the front door. One had a bottle in his hand. He crashed it on the concrete and turned to attack his opponent. Regretfully, the glass met Capone’s face instead. The doctors told him later he was lucky he didn’t lose an eye. Some luck. He missed the art show and lost interest in pretty much everything after that. Until the Tribe of Mayhem motorcycle club showed up, that was, but Saige didn’t need to hear either story right now.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Saige started again. “People love interesting artists. A bad-ass biker that can paint. They would eat that up.”

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