Page 19 of The Vipers' Vow

But then I remind myself that this is about her family. Whether we like that or not, we’re the ones who got caught up in her family’s shit, not the other way around. Vani’s father might not know it yet, but he has a history with Jarl Olsen.

Lex is okay,I sign to him.

I hope that will pull him out of the deep funk he’s got going, at least a little. I understand he’s feeling like crap, but we need to keep working together and communicating.

Saint’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, for now.”

The fact that Vani is willing to go to her father proves she cares about Lex. She doesn’t want to see him hurt. Even after everything we’ve put her through, she’s willing to do this. Plenty of others would simply shrug and say Lex brought it upon himself—just like Angelica did.

She’s putting everything on the line for us.

I don’t need to explain to Saint who I’m talking about.

Saint rubs the muscles at the back of his neck with one hand. “I know, and we almost fucked things up for good.” He finally meets my eye. “We almost lost her.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, for once grateful I’m unable to speak. All I can manage is a brief nod.

This girl. This crazy, beautiful, brave girl. We don’t deserve her. At all. How many women in her place would have put themselves forward to speak to a man like Jarl? How many would willingly take someone like me back to their father’s club?

The fact that she’s willing to walk into that place with me beside her causes my chest to expand with pride. Sure, it might end up killing me, but just being able to stand there with her will mean I’ll die as twice the man I’ve been before.

She’s doing this for us. Sure, she’s got skin in the game—she wants to know what really happened to Reagan, and I bet she wants to take down whichever son-of-a-bitch has been putting notes around calling her a whore—but ultimately, she could walk away from this if she chose to.

I step closer to Saint, who takes a step back, as though we’re doing some awkward dance, but I let a smile touch my lips—something that doesn’t happen to me very often—and I pull him in for a hug. I’m bigger than he is, but he’s knotted with muscle, and he remains rigid until I smack him on the back.

I pull away slightly and grip his shoulders.

It will be okay.

He blows out a breath.

I smack him on the shoulder again then turn and leave.

I get back to my room and consider what I should take. I don’t need to pack much for the journey, but I want some basics, a change of clothes, my phone charger, my toothbrush. It’s enough to fit into a small backpack.

I pause and let my fingers run over my gun. Should I take it? I decide I will but hide it in the secret compartment at the base of my bag. It means I can’t access it easily, but they’ll pat me down at the club for sure. If I walk in there armed, it won’t go down well. This way, at least I’ll have a weapon in my room if Vani and I need to make a run for it.

It's probably more of a comfort blanket than anything else, but I feel better having it on me.

Twenty minutes later, I’m packed and waiting for Vani in front of the building. I’m early, so I take out a smoke and sit in a patch of sun. The rays are warm on my face, and I close my eyes and turn my head to the sky as I inhale the cigarette.

I rarely smoke, but some days I just need to feel the burn on the inside of my throat. It’s fucked up because it kind of hurts, but I like reminding myself that I can still choose. I can’t speak, but I can choose, and if I choose a smoke every so often, it’s no one else’s business.

The weather has died down, and everything seems to have returned to normal, though I’m sure Nataniele will be researching the cause of the security breach. In his mind, he probably thinks nothing has happened, but I wonder if he’ll see something on a security camera. If that happens, he’ll try to find us. Of course, Vani and I will be long gone, but Saint will still be here.

I wonder what Saint will tell him.

I put my hand to my throat, feeling the raised, knotted scarring. It still pains me, though I do my best not to show it. Sometimes, if I move my head too fast, it feels like the scar is tearing open all over again. There are times where I put my hand to my throat just like I’m doing now, when I expect to find blood pouring from the wound.

I blow the smoke out and open my eyes to watch a perfect ring float to the sky.

I’m putting myself right into the path of danger and risking getting injured again by going to the MC with Vani. I hope to God I don’t end up even more fucked up.

7

SAINT

Ireach Vani’s room and bang the side of my fist against the door.

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