Page 52 of Property of Saint

But before she can hit me, Heathen’s leapt across the bar and has her arm in his hand. “You really want to fuck with the VP’s ol’ lady?” he snarls. “One word from her will get you,” he lets his eyes encompass the others, “all thrown out of the club.”

The girl still protests, fighting to get her arm free, but he’s got her in a tight hold. “She ain’t going to be his ol’ lady.”

Heathen just stares at her, until she harrumphs and backs down. She, and the other club girls retreat. When he resumes his position behind the bar, I wave at my empty beer glass, and say, “I think I need something stronger.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SAINT

Ididn’t expect the vote to be taken so fast. I’d hoped the boys would be amped up having caught a traitor, their blood lust fulfilled for the night. I’d thought I’d had more time to introduce her, to let them come to know her as I had. Like any of us, she’s a lost soul in need of a family. And speaking of souls, she’s the missing half of mine.

Crazy, huh? But when it’s right, it’s right. No point arguing how fate brought us together. And now I’m just hoping the club,my reason for living, won’t try to pull us apart.

Since I’d found my home with the Kings, I’d never felt I had a place in this world. This is my home, my family. But what happens if they vote against me tonight? They won’t let her walk free, and if I stick beside her, I’ll be buried in the same shallow grave, without compassion nor ceremony.

But Bullseye surprises me. After checking everyone’s in attendance, he bangs the gavel, and states, “Since the VP was otherwise occupied,” after a pause for the snide laughter and comments, he continues, “Skunk was a hard case to crack, but in the end, he did. Like they all do.” Again, he lets there be space forthe vocalisation of mirth, thumps on the table, and foot stomps. “He’s one of a crew calling themselves the Mojave Devils.”

That’s enough to pull me into a different head space for a moment. “The what?”

Raising his chin to me, he elaborates. “While you were getting your dick wet, I was speaking to Bigfoot.” I know the name. He’s the president of the Kings of Anarchy New Mexico chapter. “He knew about the club, thought he was up on all current members, but it seems Skunk’s been taking a low profile for a while.”

“To infiltrate us?” Freak asks the question that was forefront in my mind.

“Exactly,” Prez confirms. “Seems they know we can get guns and other commodities across the border.” He stops for a moment to shake his head in disgust. “They’re into human trafficking.”

“Fuck that!” Tempest slaps his hand onto the table.

Giving him a quick chin nod, Bullseye resumes, “The Mojave Devils have caused trouble for the Kings in Texas. Tried to take one of their ol’ ladies for his own. Ended up dead.”

Slaps of hands on the table show approval.

Stepping firmly into my VP role, I let my eyes roam landing briefly on all of my brothers. “How much did Skunk manage to find out? How much did he feed back to these Devils?” I notice Woody shifts uneasily. “Look, Brothers,” I purposefully direct my glances one by one at everyone. “That Bigfoot didn’t know his name means he was playing the long game. He was set up to infiltrate us, and being a patched member, knew how to play us to bring him in. Could have happened to anyone of us.”

Now I focus my eyes on Woody, who admits, “He obviously fuckin’ played me, but I never saw it coming. I found him living rough.” He pauses, rolls his eyes to the ceiling, then returns his gaze to his interlocked hands. “He was setting me up from thestart. He tried to jump me, his attempt so weak and feeble, I easily got the better of him, and when he begged me for a few dollars to buy some food, I was sympathetic enough to listen to his story. Common sorry tale, vet returned with no backup and no family.” He heaves in a breath and lets it out on a shuddering sigh. “He knew exactly what to say that would get me in the gut. Twisted my heartstrings. Offered him what we all want, meaning a family, then drew him in.” He shakes his head, then lowers his chin, and rests it in his hands for a moment. “Knew there was something not quite right about him. His arrogance, you know?” It’s a rhetorical question, no one bothers to answer. “I fucked up. Didn’t want to look like a fool. Just thought he was a prospect who needed the shit beaten out of him.”

Bullseye jumps in. “He knew what to say, what to do. He’d been there before and got the T-shirt. Not pointing a finger at you, Woody. Now we’ve just got to decide how to deal with his shit and what he might have told his Mojave Devil’s president.”

Woody stands and pulls first one arm, then the other, out of his cut, then throws his leather on the table. He leans forward, palms down. “He knows most of it.” He leans back, holding his arms out as if making his body a target.

“Sit the fuck down, Woody,” Bullseye growls. “And put your cut back on. Sure, you might have introduced him, but none of us saw through him. Hell, we wouldn’t have suspected he was anything but an arrogant ass, until Saint’s woman exposed him. Not sure he’d have earned his patch, there was something about him I didn’t like, but a plant?” He shakes his head, “Nah, I never thought that.”

“So, the Mojave Devils?” I ask, outwardly ignoring, but inwardly loving the way Prez referred to Pippa as mine. “How much of a threat are they?”

“According to Bigfoot, like a hornet’s nest you’d want to get rid of. But knowing they know our routes will cause us to have to change our plans.”

“And drop hints to ICE about our old ones?” Tempest asks.

“You can bet your fuckin’ ass on that.”

We all sit back and ruminate on that for a moment. Fuck it sucks having to give up our tried and tested ways of getting product down south. But if it brings down the Devils, so be it. We can be inventive when need be.

“Nobody fucks with the Kings,” Prez states. And the words are echoed around the table. He waits until the vocalisations die down, then turns his eyes to his left, to me. “Now let’s talk about the woman that’s got Saint all twisted up.”

All eyes come to me, and silence falls in expectation. I open my mouth, hoping it’s only that simple, and say the words, “She’s mine. I’ve claimed her.”

Protestations come from all around. “She’s a fuckin’ Fed”.

“She’s playing you, VP.”

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