Page 18 of Saint's Sinner

Outside, a line of rumbling machines waited, hastily tied bedrolls and backpacks strapped to sissy bars or worn on backs. As Saint hurried to his ’57 Hydra Glyde, that empty backseat brought all his fury roaring back to the forefront.

Texas was a long way off and a great deal of time would be lost if this proved to be yet another dead end, but at this point, Saint didn’t see what other choice they had. In their world, one couldn’t just go online and track down contact information. Real names were often hidden, affiliations kept strictly need toknow. Even if Keegan was able to touch base with someone there was no guarantee that the information he was given would contain truth. Deception was a commodity they traded in; it was essential in allowing them to fly beneath the radar of the law. Thus, why Sinn’s disappearance could never be reported to the authorities. They’d spend too much time asking useless questions and poking around in places that had nothing to do with the missing man, their attention focused more on digging up dirt about the MC then seeking leads on the man Saint loved.

Even as they prepared to roll through the gate, he was reminded that love was more than sex, good times, and long rides.

Trust was supposed to be involved.

Conversations were supposed to happen, and histories exchanged.

Clearly that had taken place, only not between him and Sinn the way it should have.

Had he not left the door open for that even when he staked his claim on Sinn?

As Mark shoved several items into his saddlebags, Saint realized he was about to hit the road with just the clothes on his back and the two weapons he always carried.

Son of a bitch!

Cutting the engine, he bolted up to the house, slammed through the front door, and took the stairs two at a time, hanging a left at the second floor and racing to his room, upending the top drawer on his bed until he found what he’d hidden at the bottom of it. He stuffed it in his backpack along with the weapon and four extra clips he kept in the nightstand, remembering to shove a few items of clothing in before he rushed back outside again to see Mark shaking his head, wearing the ghost of a grin.

“Fuck off and get rolling,” Saint barked over the sound of the bikes.

“Would have been halfway to the highway by now if we hadn’t been waiting for you,” Mark shot back, roaring off before Saint could flip him off in response.

Now they were finally doing something besides sitting around with their thumbs up their asses waiting for a clue, Saint could halfway breathe again. It didn’t ease the tension in his shoulders or the stiff way he rode, but it was a start.

One that was likely to end bloody.

Chapter 8

(Night)

Cursing Down the Stars

Glaring up at the sky, Night had a few choice words for the universe, chuckling a little when he caught a glimpse of a falling star.

“You got something amusing you wanna share?” Saint growled as he bumped shoulders with him.

Saint’s eyes were stormy when Night turned and stared at him.

“No sir,” Night replied. “Pretty sure I just cussed a star right out of the sky though.”

“Been tryin’ ta cuss them all down,” Saint admitted. “So you’re one up on me. I ain’t ever been able to get a single one of the damn things to budge.”

Neither said anything after that. They just leaned back against a tree at the edge of the rest stop, and glared up at the sky, Saint nudging his boot to get his attention.

“Tell me about the conversation you and Sinn had where he told you about growing up out here.

Night shrugged. “Was just stupid bullshit and rum.”

“Humor me.”

“Beside the name of the town and his families MC, there isn’t any new information I can give you.”

“Not asking for intel, I’m askin’ so maybe I can lean here a minute without murder on the mind,” Saint admitted.

“Yeah, okay,” Night replied, fully understanding the man’s need for distraction. “Was the night of the crab run. He brought a bottle of Kraken out and I was nursing what was left of a fifth of the Captain. He wanted to know if this was thebrooding section,so I asked why he thought that and he said something about how his vision might be shit but his hearing was next level, so who was I cussing out all over the place ‘cause that was how he’d found me.”

At least that prompted a snort from Saint.

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