Page 14 of Saint
“You can’t think, Gavin. You have to know you’re willing to deal with her having a grown-ass kid. I’m sure this woman has her shit together, am I right?”
“She does.”
“Well, she’s not going to cause strife in her life just because youthinkyou can deal with things.” He shook his head and sighed. “You’re not dealing with someone your age. Shit, you’re not dealing with someone my age. This woman has life experience.Experience you could only dream of. She knows what she wants out of life, out of a relationship whether intimate or friendly. For you to have a chance with someone like that your ass better know too.”
“Well, how does she know that I’m not ready?”
“She knows because she left your ass standing there.” He gulped down the rest of his beer and turned back towards the crowd. “If she’s what you want, you have to prove that shit to her.”
The buzzing of my cell phone in my pocket stopped my reply. I pulled out my phone from my back pocket and read the text. Shock, then fucking relief hit my system.
“That her?” Reaper asked, leaning over, trying to read the message from Oya.
“Yeah, she wants to meet up, tonight,” I responded while typing out my reply. Once done, I stood and slid my phone back into my pocket.
Lila, one of the club’s whores, slid between Reaper’s legs as he took a swig of beer, smiling as she whispered something in his ear.
“You good enough to ride?” he asked, palming her ass while she kissed his neck.
“Of course.” I headed toward the door. “See you later,” I called out over my shoulder.
I couldn’t help the relief and joy moving through me. I thought I’d never hear from her. And tonight, I’d show her I was worth a chance.
Embers
In less than twenty minutes I pulled into the parking lot of Embers, one of Oakland’s newer bar and grills. The music and laughter from the outside patio off to the left of the building filtered into the parking lot across the street. I didn’t miss the stares from the patrons in the parking lot. Or how the women clutched their purses closer to them and how their men wrapped their arms tighter around their girlfriends and wives. I also didn’t miss the whispers. I’d gotten used to it especially now that I was covered in tattoos and a patched member of Sin City MC.
I ignored the gawkers as I jogged across the two-lane side street in front of Embers. The security stationed at the entrance, no doubt either former military or off-duty police officers, eyed me warily as I entered the bar, proudly wearing my cut.
Oakland was our territory. No other mc would dare step foot here. Everyone knew the Sinners and it was something I needed to discuss with Oya. I was a Sinner for life. I wanted her, but myclub wasn’t up for debate much like her having a kid wasn’t. My club and her kid were permanently a part of our lives no matter who else was in it.
Pushing my way through the small crowd gathered around a table of women throwing back shots in barely there clothing not too far from the entrance, I scanned the bar. It had been three weeks since I’d seen her, and I couldn’t lie, I craved her. Her smell. Her smile. Her taste. I craved it all. She might have thought the words spoken to her while we fucked were just words of passion, but I was dead ass serious. She was mine now, I just had to prove it to her.
I never chased women. For the seven years, I was locked up, King worked it out where I had a woman whenever I needed one and when I got out, it was no different. They were always around. I could choose who I wanted and how many I wanted.
Wanting Oya was something new for me and I was willing to do all the chasing no matter how long she ran.
On the ride here, I had time to think. How do I approach a woman like her? I rarely took advice from Reaper. He wasn’t exactly the poster boy for relationships, but I did believe he was right. Oya had her shit together. She wouldn’t be looking for something or someone who did things half-assed.
I spotted her on the other side of the circular bar sitting at the center of the room, and I stopped in my tracks. She repeatedlydipped an olive in and out of a martini. Nervousness was something I’d never felt around women, but it was different with her. Everything was different with her. She contacted me. Was she finally ready to see if this was something she wanted to pursue?
The sound of some rock song, pool balls clapping against each other, patrons laughing and talking with one another filtered through the dimly lit room. I thought Oya looked out of place because she was so elegant. Not saying Embers was a dive bar, but it wasn’t a scene I pictured Oya frequenting. It was too uppity for someone like me, but not classy enough for someone like her.
Making my way to her, I didn’t miss the lustful eyes of some of the women I passed, the men who glared, mad that their old ladies lusted after the bad boy, and others who recognized the Sinners' patches. When she spotted me, a smile that could make a man drop dead crossed her face and I couldn’t stop the one lifting at the corners of my mouth. It was like a weight on my chest lifted and peace settled over me like the first day I met her.
“Hi,” she said when I reached her side.
I leaned down and kissed her cheek. Loving the feel of her soft skin against my lips. “Hi,” I replied, pulling out the bar chair beside her, then sitting. “Long time, no see.”
“I know. I’m sorry I just disappeared on you.” She took a deep breath and released it. “I’ve been going through some stuff with my ex-husband.”
I stiffened. I didn’t like the sound of her voice or the look of anger in her eyes.
“What?” I asked needing her to tell me what was going on when in fact I didn’t have the right to know anything about her life.
"He's just having a hard time coming to terms with me moving on with my life." She shrugged like it was nothing, but I wasn’t so sure. I’d witnessed bitter men do horrible things just for the hell of it. Her nonchalant attitude didn’t assuage my concern or anger.
“He’s giving you shit?” I asked, trying to hide my anger.
