Page 11 of Hostile Saint

VP grabbed his leathered chest, stumbling backward. “Fuck. Me. Runnin’. He married her while locked in a fucking trunk?”

Instantly, Prez’s annoyance dissipated. “Kid, you marry your girl knowing your end was comin’?”

My nostrils flared, but that was my only answer. Last night, Lace chose me. That’s all that mattered. And that she said I do.

“Hey,” Prez lightly backhanded the side of my thigh. “I ain’t disrespectin’. Just trying to understand what makes you tick. What I got going,” he acknowledged the veterinarian operating room I was in, “ain’t exactly legal and for sure ain’t gonna be cheap. Feel me?”

Suddenly feeling like a spoiled brat—nothing I knew a lick about—I blew out air. “Sorry. I’m, uh, not used to having, ummm—”

“Friends?”

My throat tightened. I’d never had one before. “Uh… No. I’m not, uh, used to those.”

He eyed my palm again. “Yeah, no shocker there.”

I made a fist to cover the scar that was now personal to Lace and me. “I don’t regret it. She has one, too.” We had both suffered at the hand of our brothers, but now saw these scars as a sacred bond between us only.

Prez baited, “You don’t regret someone hurtin’ your wife?”

He knew nothing of my past. Nor hers. I glared at him. “Every. Fucking. Day.”

Expecting the intensity of our words to heighten, I was shocked when both men started laughing, both talking about how I was “gonna fit in just fine”.

I had no idea where I was “gonna fit in” and what they were talking about, but I knew none of it was ever going to happen until Lace was back in my arms. So, I bit out, “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

My words didn’t affect VP in the slightest. He actually laughed harder, “Got you a little Bulldog there, Prez,” and pulled a vibrating cellphone from his front jean pocket.

Studying his leather vest, I read, Vice President. Steel Stallions. 1%er Original Chapter.

I looked to Prez to further study his.

Observing me, he smiled, pointing to a strip of material above his heart that read, 1%er. Original Chapter. The other side read, President. Steel Stallions.

VP held up his cell for Prez to see, and announced, “Captain.”

Prez reached over me and took the phone. Pulling it to his ear, he answered, “Hey… That sounds perfect… Nah… Yeah, may be bringin’ home a pound pup. A,” he smiled at me, “Bulldog.” His eyes squinted. “Possibly with a litter.” He lifted his chin at me. “Your girl pregnant?”

All the unspeakable violence of the night prior flashed in my mind. Heartbroken that it ever happened, I answered, “No.” Not wanting to explain I didn’t even think it was possible, my jaw locked. “They wore condoms.”

Prez’s smile didn’t fade away. It vanished. Then his eyes filled with cold anger I wasn’t familiar with. Not even with sadistic brothers that hated me.

Staring at me, Prez spoke into the phone. “Just two pound pups.” He pulled the cell from his ear. Over me again, he handed it back to VP. “Here, get the needed details.” Then to me, he said, “Captain got us a rental until you’re ready to travel.”

VP pulled the phone to his ear. “Hey, it’s me…”

I stuttered, “T-Travel?” I panicked. “I can’t—”

Prez pointed at me with an angry finger. “Listen up, Pup. I ain’t much for repeating myself. Got it?”

“But—”

“Did I not just say two rescues were accompanying me home?”

“Home?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Well, nothing, but—”