Page 30 of Property of Saint

“I thought you still have a few more days.”

Sighing, I fill him in on what happened with Ace and Freak. As I finish, he places both elbows on the bar and lowers his head into his hands. “This is bad, fuckin’ bad. We all love that kid.”

We do, but there’s always the worry that at some point he’ll step too far over the line, and even Genie won’t be able to helphim get back again. Doesn’t mean I won’t do everything I can to prevent it.

“Can I ask you a question, VP?” I give a rise and dip of my chin. “You catching feelings for her?”

I’m certain I’m not, or not in the way that he’s asking. And whatever emotion I’m experiencing is wrapped up in admiration and guilt. “I don’t want her as my ol’ lady, fuck, who wants to be tied down? But she’s brave, resourceful, and it’s all kinds of fucked up that if I hadn’t rescued her, she wouldn’t be in danger.”

“And if you hadn’t rescued her, she’d be dead.”

“But what have I given her? A few days of being in pain?”

Short’s a good man, a solid brother. And while others might have taken the chance to have a joke at my expense, he lifts his glass to his mouth and looks like he’s giving my problem some serious consideration. Then he replaces his whiskey on the bar and gives me his full attention.

“You admire her,” he starts. Then gives a quick shake of his head when I go to answer. He holds up a finger. “She’s strong.” He holds up another. “She’s going to stand her ground.” He raises a third. “She’s loyal, has to be in her job. And she’s definitely got a hot body going for her.” He pauses, his wink reminding me that he, too, has seen her naked. “All good points in her favour.” He holds out his other hand, lifting one palm, then another as if weighing the balance. “On one side, you’ve got a woman who’d make a terrific ol’ lady, and on the other, there’s just your reluctance to being tied down.”

Placing my fist on his hand, I press it back to the bar. “Biggest fuckin’ thing on the against side, even greater than my personal feelings, is that she’s a fuckin’ Fed, Short. She’s been on the side of right all her life. You heard her.” I brush my hair back with my hands. “There’s no way this club will ever be able to trust her, not even if she was the love of my life.”

Short nods slowly, then a grin spreads over his face. “The right side of the tracks has done fuck all for her. What’s been the result? She’s running for her life. And even if she did go back, there are no guarantees some asshole wouldn’t take her out. We all heard her. She’s never had fun. VP,” his smile disappears, and he suddenly looks serious. “Why don’t you show her how good it can be on the wild side?”

My brows rise to my hairline. “Corrupt her?” I can’t deny that the thought had crossed my mind, but only briefly and not seriously.

“Why the fuck not?” He nudges his shoulder into mine. “Could be fuckin’ fun if you think about it.”

On paper, maybe. In reality? How the hell do you change the thinking of a straight-laced cop into the mindset of an outlaw?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

PHILLIPA

Istruggle to wake up as if I’m swimming through treacle, it’s harder than normal to get the energy to open my eyes, I feel like I’ve been drugged. Where I am feels somewhat familiar, and there’s a lingering odour as if another person has lain beside me on the bed. That’s the thought that makes me finally squint and view my surroundings.Where am I?And, after viewing the obvious dent in the pillow next to me,who was I with?

Quickly, I run my hands down my body. I’m fully clothed. As my initial panic that I might have been molested leaves me, I breathe in sharply as everything rushes back in technicoloured clarity. It was those damn painkillers again, making me groggy. Though admittedly, I feel better for the rest. I don’t want to put myself at such a disadvantage again. The room is empty, Saint didn’t stay with me despite what he said.

I shudder thinking how I’ve been left at the mercy of the men in the clubhouse, none of whom view me as a friend. And,oh fuck,another shiver goes through me as I remember discovering their master hacker is just a kid, a teenager who I estimate to be a fifteen or at most sixteen-year-old. And the additionalrevelation that the scary, violent man, Freak, is his father, who’s clearly a very caring and protective parent.

It seems hard to believe that that kid, Ace, managed to ‘kill’ me with his expertise, getting into the government databases that shouldn’t be able to be accessed by anyone, let alone someone little more than a child. The Secret Service would love to get their hands on someone with his abilities. With his knowledge comes bargaining power. He probably wouldn’t even be punished for what he did. As long as he shared the hows and whys, and then promised to use his talents to work for the good of the nation.

Do the Kings and Freak want to keep him undercover for the assistance he can provide them? Well, sure. Those kinds of skills would come in particularly handy for a criminal enterprise. But that didn’t seem to be the reason why Freak was threatening me. It seemed more personal. As if he didn’t want his flesh and blood taken from him.

Whatever the reason, it puts me in a dangerous situation. If the positions were reversed, and I were the worried parent, I wouldn’t want the risk set free.

And what I’d said to Saint was true. If I reappeared, reclaimed my identity, there was no way I could promise to keep the hacker’s identity quiet. Forcing myself to think positively, I haven’t yet been killed, I’d come close, but once again Saint had saved me. I’ve been given treatment, albeit by a dubious source, which should allow me to heal, even if my leg doesn’t mend quite straight. If I can suffer their hospitality while waiting until I get stronger, or for an opportunity for escape to present itself, then maybe I’ve got a chance of getting out of here.

It won’t be easy. Especially not as they’ve no reason to keep me alive, and a pretty good excuse to get rid of me. That thought sobers me. I feel like a prisoner on death row. The sentence has been decided. It’s just not yet been carried out.

Is there any way I can escape before they decide it’s time? Saint was right. In my current state, I can’t run.

My breathing has shallowed, my heart rate sped up. My body is entering fight-or-flight mode with nothing to rail against and nowhere to go. Concentrating on taking air in, holding it, then slowly exhaling, and then doing that again, and again, I feel the panic starting to fade, and my resolve hardens. I’m not going to give them an excuse to hurry my demise. I’m going to do whatever it takes to survive, and hope that someday, somehow, I’ll be able to get out of here. And take up the reins of my old life.

Stretching, I raise my arms over my head. Well, as far as I can comfortably lift the one in the sling and then realise something. I’m no longer handcuffed, and in addition, I’ve already assessed that I’ve no jailer in the room. While I’ve no idea how long I’ve been out, the sleep has clearly been restorative. I’m feeling stronger and certainly in less pain. Obviously, I am still hobbled and unable to run a marathon, but my ribs hurt less, and my brain seems clearer.

I’ve also got an overwhelming need to pee, so I carefully sit upright, then swing my legs over the bed, noticing with relief that my crutches have been left within reach. Testing my injured arm out of the sling, I’m pleased to find it’s supportive enough to take some of my weight. With both crutches, I get into a rhythm easily and hop my way into the bathroom. After using the facilities, I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face. Searching around, I find a still-in-its-packaging toothbrush which I claim as mine, thrilled to be able to wash the gunk from my mouth.

Finger combing my hair, thanking the gods that it’s short, and while completely unstyled, it doesn’t look like too much of a rat’s nest. But there’s not much I can do about my face. Not without a ton of concealer. One of my eyes is a lovely shade of purple, one side of my jaw swollen, and I’m pale as fuck.

But overall, not bad for a woman who should be dead, I remind myself. And while the painkillers knocked me out and caused me to be dazed when I came around, my headache has almost disappeared, and my shoulder feels stronger. Even the throbbing of my leg is annoying rather than agonising.

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