Page 10 of Juno

“That part wasn’t easy. You’re heavy. But you woke up enough to lean on me and practically walk upstairs with help from me. We did have to take a break about halfway up the stairs. You said you needed a nap, but I was lucky enough to convince you to stay awake long enough to get the rest of the way to your room.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem like an easy task,” he said.

“It wasn’t, but I made it work,” she said. She filled a plate with pancakes and poured him a cup of coffee. “How do you take your coffee?” Juno asked.

“Black,” he said. “Thanks for doing all this for me. I bet you’re exhausted. You must have only gotten about an hour's sleep before you woke up to come back over here.”

“Oh, I stayed here and slept on your couch,” she admitted. “Unless you’re hiding a bed somewhere, I’m guessing that you only have one,” she said.

Saint shrugged, “Nope. I never needed a second bed, so I turned the second bedroom into a home office. It comes in handy during tax season,” he said.

“Tax season,” she repeated, “what happens during tax season?”

“I’m an accountant and tax season is insane. It’s nice to have that little room upstairs to work in late at night.”

“Well, I’m sorry that you had to sleep on my sofa,” he said. “I’d be happy to have you sleep in my bed,” he teased. “It was nice of you to put up with my sofa, but you didn’t have to babysit me,” he insisted. The last thing he wanted to do was put anyone out while taking care of him. He could figure out how to take care of himself.

“I wasn’t babysitting you, I was trapped here,” she said.

“Trapped,” he asked. “How were you trapped?”

“I don’t expect you to remember that my car was on fire. I didn’t want to borrow your truck to go home without your permission and well, you were a little out of it.”

“Wait—your car was on fire in the club’s parking lot?” Saint asked.

“Actually, it was almost burned out by the time we got there, but yes. Someone set my car on fire and now, I have no job and no car.”

“What did the police say? Do they have any leads about who did that to your car?” He had a pretty good idea about who did this to her old car—Bruno. The guy seemed pretty pissed at her and maybe firing her wasn’t enough for him. He seemed like the kind of guy who would want the last word and setting Juno’s car on fire would definitely give him that.

She sat down at the table next to him with her own plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee. “Um, I didn’t call the police,” she admitted.

“Why the fuck not?” Saint asked. “Your car was vandalized, and you didn’t think to call the cops?”

“Well, you were passed out next to me, and calling the cops and sitting there until they showed up, wasn’t something that I wanted to do. You know how bad that side of town is. The cops would have shown up when they had nothing better to do and we’d probably still be sitting in that parking lot waiting. Plus, my car was old, and I probably won’t get anything for it from my insurance company.”

“You still have to report it, Juno,” he insisted.

“Come on, Saint, you and I both know who did this. What’s it going to help if we call the cops? My involvement in the club would become public knowledge and I don’t want that to happen.”

“You can’t let him get away with this, Juno. It’s bad enough that he sexually harassed you and got away with it. He needs to be stopped,” Saint insisted. “If you don’t do it, I will.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she breathed. Juno dropped her fork on her plate and shoved it back from herself. “You’d throw me under the bus like that?” He would and with good reason.

“If you don’t call the cops, Bruno will just keep coming for you. He feels that you wronged him in some way, and he won’t stop until he’s satisfied that you’ve suffered enough. I’ve known guys like him, and I know what he’s capable of.” Being the enforcer for the Royal Bastards, he came across all types of assholes who wanted nothing more than to hurt him. He couldn’t let Juno get hurt in this mess, and he knew of one sure way to stop Bruno from doing so. He’d have to call the cops, and Juno would have to tell them about the sexual harassment and her burned car. It was the only way.

* * *

Saint waited until they were finished breakfast and Juno was washing dishes to call the cops. He felt horrible that he couldn’t help, but she insisted that she didn’t mind. Saint also felt like shit that her car was set on fire. If they had taken her car to the emergency room, instead of his truck, she might still have her car. Bruno didn’t know what he was driving, and Juno seemed to be the guy’s target, not that it made Saint feel any better about the whole situation.

He was hoping that the cops would show up at his place and Juno would cave and agree to file a report about what had happened to her the night before. Saint just needed them to show up before the pain pills kicked in and knocked him out. He was sure that would happen in the next twenty minutes since he had just taken his pills with breakfast, and he wanted to be there for Juno. But, if he couldn’t be there for her, he knew one person who could be, and she wouldn’t tell anyone about Juno working at the strip club.

She walked out to the family room, where she had banished him, telling him to sit with his arm on a few pillows. Juno was right that he needed to elevate his arm, but he wouldn’t tell her that. His fingers were swelling, and he was sure that it was because he had used his arm more than he should have already. She seemed to always like being right, and that wasn’t something he was going to let stand.

“Done the dishes. Would you mind if I took a quick shower? I’m going to have to call one of the girls to come get me and run me home. I don’t want them to see me in my club makeup. They’ll ask questions since I don’t usually wear this much makeup.” He had seen her around Savage Hell when the Harlots and Bastards shared the clubhouse for the night. Juno barely wore any makeup at all, and he thought that she was hot as hell. He really didn’t think she needed any makeup but telling her that wouldn’t end well. She still seemed pissed at him for everything that had happened the night before.

Saint knew that if she got in the shower before the cops came, she might just hide in his bathroom until she could get one of the women in her little click to come pick her up and take her home. He was going to have to stall her if he wanted her to give the officers a statement.

“How about if you sit down and take a break?” he asked. “You said yourself that you didn’t get much sleep last night.” He hadn’t really slept well after they got home from the hospital. His painkillers were barely taking off the edge and trying to sleep while his arm was throbbing didn’t work out for him.

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