Page 62 of Property of Saint

“Fuck this!” Star steps away from the stove. “I ain’t nobody’s slave. I ain’t cooking for anyone.”

Surprisingly, it’s the reticent Words who replies. “You want my cock, Star?” As she grins and starts sashaying toward him, he continues, “‘Cause I ain’t feeding anyone my dick who doesn’t feed me first, and,” he adds fast, “I don’t mean with pussy.”

Bullseye thumps his hand down on the table. “Okay. Seems like we’re all in agreement. But before shit changes in this club, it gets voted on. Eat your breakfast, Brothers. Church as soonas we’ve finished. And Saint?”Oh fuck. I let my cautious glance land on him. “Timescales moved up. We settle all shit today.”

Shit, fuck, goddamnit.Have we pushed him too far, too fast? He’s telling me there’s going to be a vote on Pippa, whether she stays or... at this juncture I can’t even think of the alternative.

I’m not ready.A glance toward the woman in question shows I’m not the only one. And Pippa knows exactly what our meeting is going to be about. There’s a world of emotion in her eyes as she looks at me, despair, sadness, desperation. Maybe there’s also a little hope, but not much. I don’t think either of us are feeling optimistic.

“Can you give me an hour, Prez?”One more time to sink my cock in to the most beautiful woman that’s ever come my way.Or maybe, sixty minutes to try and get her and I out of here.

He shows no mercy. “Time’s up, Saint.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

SAINT

The breakfast that started off friendly and chatty ends as a silent affair. Even the bunnies notice the tension of the moment and take away plates, rinsing them before placing them in the dishwasher efficiently and quietly.

“Watch her,” Bullseye tells Heathen, inclining his head toward my woman, taking the responsibility from me.

Then, at his instruction, we all leave the kitchen and file into church.

I’m the fucking VP, vice president, second only to my prez, but at the moment I feel as powerless as the newest prospect. I acknowledge that from the moment I saw Pippa holding onto my cut, realising its importance and rescuing it from the flames, that she was mine, even though I didn’t want to admit it at the time. Sex with her has been so amazing, I’ve never experienced anything like it before in my life, and if I lose her, I don’t think I’ll ever feel it like that again. And we haven’t been careful. She might already be pregnant. Ending Pippa might be ending more than her.

Ending Pippa might be ending my life.I’m not sure I want to live in a world without her in it.

Once we’re all seated, Bullseye bangs the gavel. “Only one topic I want to discuss. Philippa Owens.” He glances at me. “Sorry, Brother, know I gave you more time, but you’re falling so deeply, maybe I’m trying to save you from yourself.” He looks around the table. “Vote is, either the VP gets himself an ol’ lady, or we dispose of a threat to the club. A Fed.” After a pause, he adds, “Floor’s open.”

Should I be pleased that no one rushes to say anything? In fact, they all look stunned, as if, like me, they’d expected more time. I use the opportunity to put my case.

“Brothers, you know I had no idea what I was getting into when I saw her car run off the road. Hadn’t a clue who the fuck she was, hell, didn’t even know if it was a bitch or a man. But she caught my interest when she saved my cut, and when, despite her injuries, she managed to climb out of the ravine. You all know me,” I pause, to indicate myself, “I’m an asshole, I’m no knight in shining armour, apart from my brothers, I’ve never wanted to protect anyone in my life. But she’s got to me,” I place my hand over my heart. “She’s in here, and I can’t get her out.” Again, I stop, and slowly let my gaze roam the room, landing on each of my brothers for a moment. “I trust her.”

Tempest sits back in his chair, eyeing me carefully. “And what about you, Saint? You say you trust her, but what if we can’t? What position are you in if the club votes to end her?”

Lowering my face into my hands, I rub my temples, then lift my head, knowing my anguish must be visible. “I don’t fuckin’ know,” I say, almost in a whisper, then repeat, “I don’t know.”

Bullseye bangs the gavel. “Let’s not draw this out any longer. I want answers from around the table.” He looks at the man sitting next to me. “Freak?”

I draw in a breath, want to cover my ears, want to live in denial for just a bit longer. Instead, I have to force myself to listen as the brothers tear my woman’s character apart.

Freak stares sideways at me, his face fixed and impassive. I avert my eyes, not wanting to see what’s in his. He clears his throat. “Had quite the conversation with Ms. Owens.” He seems in no hurry to give us the outcome, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his cut, and lighting one up. He draws in smoke and lets it out before continuing. “I think she wants to help Ace rather than destroy him. I vote aye for her being Saint’s ol’ lady.”

Looking round at him sharply, my lungs let out the air they’d been holding. He gives me a chin lift as my eyes meet his.

Piston is sitting next to him. He sighs heavily, and for a second, I’ve no idea how he’s going to vote. Eventually, he says, “Aye. If only for a chance to win my money back.”

There’s a moment of levity, then Woody speaks. “It’s an aye from me. She had a fucked up childhood, I can relate.”

Stalker raises his hand. “If she can corral the bunnies and get meals cooked, I’m all for her staying.”

Paint shakes his head. “Despite myself, I like the bitch,woman,” he quickly corrects having seen my glare.

A snort comes from Rattler. “I thought I was quite convincing, but she wasn’t buying anything I was selling when I tried to trick her. But as long as the VP vouches for her, I don’t mind her hanging around.”

From Winchester, it’s just a simple, “I’ll go with the majority.”

Short states, “I like having her around. She’s good for the VP. Lets us see his human side.” If he hadn’t given me his support, I’d have slapped him around the head for that comment.

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