Page 2 of Saint's Sinner

“I’m sorry Pops, I should have called and warned you we had reinforcements,” Cody stammered. “We just wanted to get here.”

There were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept, or at least, not more than would have been necessary to keep the bike upright and between the lines. Saint was touched by his nephew’s consideration and the friendship he’d formed with Sinn. It was far more than Teddy, with his tendency towards jealousy, had exhibited.

One thought kept spinning over and over in Saint’s head, something he hadn’t shared with his brother because the wrong answer could lead to the kind of confrontation one of them wouldn’t walk away from.

Ever.

But if Teddy was behind this. If something he’d arranged had harmed one hair on Sinn’s head….

The gate slid open between them with a rattling clang. Cody didn’t bother to wait, he shoved through the moment the gap was wide enough.

“Any word?” Cody asked, bypassing his old man to get to Saint.

“None yet.”

“Where do you need us?”

Saint was tempted to tell them to crash for the next few hours, it was obvious they all needed it. Cody wasn’t the only one with greenish-black shadows beneath his eyes. There were haunted looks among the men Saint didn’t know. Stories he’d be curious to hear once his lover was back in his arms, safe.

“We’ve got teams working outward from Charles St. where Sinn went missing, showing his picture around to everyone they come across. We’ve got teams in every armpit bar within a hundred miles, skulking in shadows, hoping to hear anything that can give us a clue as to who took him. So far, nothing. Since you brought a crew, let’s hit factory row. I’ll get a few of the others to join us. With seven buildings to cover, it’s gonna take a while.”

“We drove all this way to search factories?” A burly brunette with a thin, droopy mustache snarled, nose wrinkling like he smelled something foul. When his upper lip curled, the yellow of his stained teeth revealed a lifelong smoking habit, the sour stench emanating from his clothes. Saint knew the type. Enforcer. He was there to beat on someone and go home. He opened his mouth, only to have his nephew beat him to the punch. Was eerie how much Cody sounded like him and Mark in that moment.

“No, we drove all this way to get Sinn back from whoever the fuck took him. If that means searching factories, repelling down chimneys, or climbing on the back of a rabid bull, then that’s what the fuck we’re gonna do.”

“Heard and understood,” Yellow Teeth replied.

He shut the fuck up after that and eyed the concrete pad beside the garage. Usually lined with bikes from end to end, the only machines that remained were his and Mark’s. It’s emptiness and the desperate reason behind it, was a stark reminder of how grave their current situation was. Everyone was quick to check weapons. Saint heard rounds being chambered before engines roared to life again and hurried to his bike to co-lead the charge.

Located on the edge of town in what used to be known as Industrial Park, it was only a ten-minute ride, but to Saint it felt like forever. How the fuck could this have happened? How could a quick trip out the back door of the club owned tattoo parlor to hit a joint have led to Sinn vanishing without anyone seeing or hearing what had gone down?

“So, what’s the story with this place?” someone asked once they’d arrived. It sounded like Bellamy, yet not exactly. Maybe a relative? Hadn’t Bellamy told them that all the members of his club were related to him in some way, shape, or form?

“Used to be the place that employed someone from every family in this town,” Wreck explained.

Saint managed not to snarlwho gives a damn, by searching for any sign of the man who’d made each day better since tumbling into Saint’s life and lap after stumbling over a boot clad foot. If he were able, Saint knew Sinn would leave clues along whatever path he’d been dragged, even if that meant plucking a bald patch in his distinctive hair, or tearing off pieces of his t-shirt, but there was nothing among the trash and broken bottles to show that he’d passed through here.

“Most of our great-grandfathers helped build this place,” Mark explained. “Every roofer, carpenter and jack of all trades in this town was hired to work on these buildings, and in less than three generations, this is all that’s left.”

“Holy shit, how’d it happen?”

The voices were starting to blend. They hadn’t taken the time for introductions, not that Saint would have remembered a single one of them with Sinn’s fate weighing heavy on his mind. He just couldn’t understand what any of this was about. Their club wasn’t at war with anyone. They had tenuous relationships with a few of the chapters around them, but nothing that had kicked off into trouble, at least not in the last few years.

Unless they’d decided that the Jokers had gone too soft, and they were looking to push them out, Saint mused. This could be a first step towards a territorial dispute. The last time they’d had one of those, the Jokers had been the ones taking vests and busting heads, engaging in some downright terroristic means of striking fear into the hearts of the other club. Maybe it was their turn to be on the receiving end. Karma coming back to roost. Only Sinn, for as much as he didn’t want to be, was a civilian, and Saint would be damned if he allowed the man he loved to become a casualty.

“In some cases, mismanagement, in others, corporate suits decided it was better for their bottom line to contract with overseas companies where cheaper wages were the norm,” Mark rambled on. Only the fact that they weren’t alone kept Saint from elbowing the hell out of him.

“Pay less, charge more, that’s the American way,” someone muttered.

They were all silent after that, while waiting for the rest of the riders to arrive, something Saint appreciated. There was only one voice he wanted to hear, and the growing fist of dread in the pit of his stomach was starting to make him feel like he’d never hear it again.

Chapter 2

(Night)

There’s something not quite right about this place

“Alright guys, fan out in three-man crews. Search every building top to bottom. Make sure you don’t miss so much as a Goddammed closet,” Mark decreed as he headed for the first building to the left.

---