Page 34 of Property of Saint

I hear the low warning growl from my attorney, so sit back and wait.

Shaking his head, Hawkins knows he has to prompt me. “Your bike was witnessed right where a car containing a federal agent was run off the road. On the canyon road.”

I let my eyes open. “A Fed?”

The attorney places his hand on my arm. “You’re accusing my client of running a car off the road? May I remind you he rides a motorcycle…”

Hawkins spares a glance to the man at my side. “I’m well aware of the differential in the vehicles. I also checked that there was no damage to Henley’s bike when I went to the clubhouse. As I said, we’re not fingering him as a perpetrator, but hoping he’s got some information on who ran that car off the road.”

While I can’t be sure of the timeline of whoever reported my bike, I decide that refusing to give information isn’t going to help me at this point. I sit back, shake my head sadly, and relate, “I get what you’re talking about now. Didn’t see who or what. Just saw a fuckin’ explosion. Stopped for a moment to see if I could help…Good Samaritan and all that…” I raise my chin toward myattorney. “Took a look, but the car was in flames. No way anyone was going to walk away from that.”

The sheriff sighs deeply. “That all you got?” He examines me carefully. “Saint,” by using my preferred name, he’s appealing to me on a human level. “You didn’t see the vehicle that ran that car off the road? Or anything that might help me?”

I saw fuck all. My concentration had been on the car careering down the slope, rather than taking note of any license plates. And though I might have been able to come up with a description of the men who I’d tried to convince Pippa was dead, I doubt it would help him. Anyway, if I ever saw them again, those men would know what it felt like to face the Kings.

“Nothing.” Then I force myself to frown. “You say it was a Fed in the car?”

He stares at me, then breathes in a deep breath, letting it out on a sigh. “Get out of here, Saint.”

Absolutely fucking gladly.But for a moment, I wonder whether my fate might have been different if I said I could identify who’d run Pippa off the road. What side of the fence is the sheriff on? Remembering Pippa has enemies everywhere, I can’t help but be glad I kept vengeance as mine.

Exiting the station, our attorney stops and looks me in the eye. “Anything I should know about, Saint?”

Well, nothing, except for the small matter that the federal agent they think is burned to a crisp like a steak left too long on a barbecue, is actually alive and breathing in our clubhouse. For now, at least. I meet his enquiring gaze head-on. “Nothing.” I convincingly lie.

Not surprisingly, he looks like he doesn’t believe me. Offering a shake of his head, he gives me one last piece of advice. “Keep out of trouble.”

As if I’m likely to do that. He shows me his hand, and I shake it. Then he moves on.

I came here courtesy of the sheriff, so now I take out my phone and call for a ride. Perched on the wall outside the precinct, I open my cigarettes and extract one, flicking my lighter and making the tip of the cancer stick glow orange. I inhale smoke, then blow it out. I’ve tried all my life, but smoke rings seem beyond me. I take the opportunity to practice.

I’ve stubbed my second one out before I hear a familiar truck approaching. It draws up next to me, Knight in the driving seat. I open the door on the passenger side, and breathe in the air that’s familiar, one that smells of leather and oil.

Knight doesn’t talk to me, and that’s absolutely fine. While tonight, I’m completely innocent – it wasn’t me who tried to kill Pippa, and that’s the only crime the sheriff can pin on anyone—it still leaves a stink when having been detained by the cops, and I need time to decompress.

The last thing we want is a search warrant on the club’s premises. But I don’t think I’ve given Hawkins any excuses to look deeper into the club. The idea that we’d kill a federal agent who’s not even investigating our club is a stretch too far.

Unless Pippa is actually a plant. In which case, the clubhouse would be the first place they’d look.

As we leave the road lit by streetlights and enter the darkened county lanes, I consider the possibility and dismiss it. There’ssurely no way in hell that Pippa could get herself driven off the road and me be predicted to park up and investigate.

Not for the first or even second time, I wish I’d never stopped. I wouldn’t have been dragged down to the precinct tonight if I’d kept going on my way. But if I hadn’t, that would mean Pippa would already be dead, and any chance of her living would be out of my hands.

Do I want to keep her alive?As Knight drives on, navigating the roads through familiarity and the headlights, I realise that’s what I want. Not as my ol’ lady, unless I take her only in nameand she surely wouldn’t be the sole pussy I’d fuck. Whatever, I have to admit she’s got under my skin. I wouldn’t like that spark I see within her to be extinguished.

Bring her over to the dark side,Short had suggested. Great fucking idea. But how? And how do I stop Freak from taking out insurance his kid’s not exposed?

Knight pulls up outside the clubhouse, and I exit the truck without saying a word. He’s a prospect, his thanks will come by way of his eventual patch if he doesn’t fuck up over the next few months. I enter the building, needing a drink to wash the cop taste out of my mouth. But as I approach the bar, I see a raucous gathering over in the corner. A female’s triumphant shout has me changing direction and heading over to see what’s going on.

I’ll be fucked.My mouth hangs open as I watch the scene. There are five brothers obviously playing a game of poker, and the sixth player is Pippa. And by the amount of money she’s got stacked in front of her, she’s taking them to the cleaners. For a second rage comes over me,I’ve just spent a couple of hours in the company of the sheriff for her, while she’s here enjoying herself.Then, common sense hits me, my anger disappears, and my lips curve.

There’s no denying she’s having fun. And, from the way my brothers are acting around her, she’s earned some respect.

“Hey, Bro. You’re back!” Bullseye, not one of the players, but one looking on raises his chin to me.

I shrug. “Piece of fuckin’ cake. They’ve got nothing on me.”

Her attention caught, Pippa glances up and meets my eye. “It was to do with me, wasn’t it?”

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