Page 26 of Saint's Sinner

Every Disciple in the room turned to look in the direction Saint pointed, several of them uttering profanities and one a whispered prayer when they saw the sheer amount of firepower pointed at them through their shattered windows.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Mark snarled, the ruthlessness in his older brother’s voice reminding Saint of the days when they’d first taken over the Jokers from their old man. “We didn’t rescue you ‘cause we gave a shit, we did it because those bastards who were hell bent on killing you were standing between us and finding out if you knew who had Sinn. Now that we’ve got him back, ending a potential threat would just be a bonus.”

While Sinn’s grandfather looked ready to have a stroke with as red as his face had gotten, Sinn’s mother had gone from glaring to smiling.

“Ease the fuck down, both of you,” she said when she shot a look over her shoulder. “I’m choking on testosterone right now and it’s not a good taste. We got the answers we wanted. Let’s leave it at that.”

“As long as these fuckers…” Sinn’s old man began.

She didn’t say a word, she just growled as she turned to look at him. Whatever her husband or ex-husband or whatever the situation was saw in her eyes was enough to silence him and make him take a half step back. Well now, it was good to know who wore the pants around here.

“Thought you guys went legit?” Sampson grumbled.

“Legit don’t mean soft,” Mark reminded him.

When Sampson rubbed his beard, looking deep in thought, Saint knew the old man was cooking something up in that grizzled head of his.

“You serious about being willing to eliminate any threat to Sinclair?” Sampson asked.

“That look serious enough to you?” Mark asked as he gestured towards the Jokers who still had their weapons trained on the Disciples.

“That outfit you ran off won’t hesitate to cross state lines looking for you and my grandson,” Sampson said. “Of course, they won’t be able to look for shit if we carve their eyes out and send them to meet the undertaker.”

“What’s in it for us?” Mark asked.

“Cut of the spoils.”

“Unless you’re talking fifty-fifty, it ain’t worth our while.”

“Done.” Sampson said.

“Now hold on a minute, Pops,” Sinn’s father began only to catch twin glares from Sinn’s mother and Sampson, effectively silencing him.

“Make yourself useful boy and get a clean-up crew together while the adults have themselves a conversation.”

The hulking man grumbled beneath his breath, but he went and did as he was told, taking several of the less damaged Disciples with him.

“Sinclair, I’d like you far from here before more shit kicks off,” his mother said.

“Gladly,” Sinn said, jerking away when his mother went to touch his face.

“You know I had to be certain that you were in good hands.”

“No, you had to be certain I wouldn’t be a liability,” Sinn said. “And because of that you’ve managed to rope in reinforcements. How convenient or not, considering how well I know you. Are you really going to stand there and keep insistingthat the only reason you sent guys to snatch me was for my benefit and protection or were you counting on Saint coming after me and bringing the reinforcements you needed to take whoever the fuck that was down.”

“Was them yellow bellied Serpents,” Sampson hissed. “Who else would be so ballsy as to slither up to our door and try to lay waste to the place?”

“I don’t know, Gramps, you all are forever pissing people off. The Savage Serpents might be at the top of the list, but you and I both know it’s a long list.”

“Meh,” the old man grumbled. “Enough useless gabbing. We’ve got planning to do and I could use a stiff whiskey to wash away the taste of all this bullshit.”

Saint felt Sinn draw in a breath like he was about to continue the argument and gave the back of his neck a squeeze. His growl was only half in protest as he melted against Saint’s chest.

“One of these days,” Sinn grumbled.

“Maybe, but not this one,” Saint firmly informed him.

He’d have chuckled at the sound of Sinn’s heavy sigh and mumbledfuckif they were anywhere else, but here he just squeezed the back of his neck again, a reminder of who was in charge.

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