Page 52 of Giving It to the Monster

There sat a large man, bigger than anything she’d ever seen.

“Hello, Saint. Why don’t you close the door and take a seat?”

The man wore a business suit, and he was sitting perfectly still, nothing threatening about him.

“You can put the gun away. I mean you no harm.”

“What the fuck is this about, Ricky?” Saint said.

“Well, it seems we run in small worlds. I had no idea that Simon’s Natasha was your woman.”

“How do you know me?”

“I don’t. Simon got himself into a little bit of a pickle. He had gambling debts, and he promised to help out the men I work for by making some difficult evidence disappear. He failed, and as payment, he thought offering up his ex-wife would appease us.”

“Simon wanted to sell me.”

“Pretty much. You married a piece of work, Natasha Greenwood.”

She lowered herself into the chair, shocked. In that moment, she was so happy that Simon was dead.

“Anyway, it appears that Simon couldn’t handle his debt, so he went to our enemy, sold them the cocaine that we use for our enemies, which brought us back to each other, Saint.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Kind of wraps it up in a neat little bow,” Ricky said.

“Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming on?” Saint asked.

“Because there is.” Ricky stood. “It seems I will be moving in to Sinners’ Corner. Some problems have come up that require me to be here. Our enemy has decided to lay low, and seeing as we want no war with the Saints and Sinners MC nor do we want an issue with the Hell’s Wolves, we are here to fight our own battles.”

“You’re moving in?”

“Yes, so I hope for my own sake, there is some good food to be had.” Ricky nodded at both of them. “Natasha, don’t mourn your ex. He was a piece of shit. Have a good night, both of you.”

To that, he left them.

“The cop?” Natasha asked.

“Working for Ricky. It was an introduction of sorts.”

“Saint, did I ever tell you, you’ve got the weirdest friends?”

“They’re not my friends, but I don’t think they’re my enemies either.”

She let out a breath. “I’m never going to get bored with you, am I?”

“I hope not.”

Turning in his arms, she smiled up at him.

“You’re not running?”

“I’m not. It would seem I’m a lot stronger than I thought I was,” she said. Going to her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Take me to bed, Saint.”

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