Page 117 of Hostile Saint

Lynx’s spine stiffened.

Captain smirked. “That’s right. Use that wicked brain dad gave each of us. None of the chapters involved have had any new Prospects or patch-ins. Only before all this shit has started. Which means—”

“Jesus. H. Christ.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” she heavily whispered. “My guess? Kansas Chap was already getting close to something that someone doesn’t want them involved with here. Hence ‘the rat’. Oz needs a heads up, but if my gut is right, we need to handle all this shit with care. We have no idea who is dirty. And no one is fucking with the pup or his Pretty Girl.” Her nostrils flared, just like her older brother’s when he’s agitated. She glared about as if any bystander could be her enemy. “Not on my watch.”

During a pause, Lynx grinned, and his eyes adored. “I have fucking missed you, ya little terror on heels.”

Her head snapped back to him, and she sneered, “I don’t wear fucking heels, you asshole—”

He yanked her into an embrace. “God, I love you.”

She swatted at his side but finally surrendered and melted to him, saying, “Love you, too.” That’s when her immense grey eyes met mine, even with the darker tinted windows.

Still leaning against her brother, she rested a finger to the glass between us.

It was wild but felt very natural to lift my hand and do the same. Uncanny, to say the least, but there was an instant connection. We may have talked a few times on speakerphone, and she may have watched my every move in the rental house, but face-to-face is when we truly saw each other. One damaged soul silently speaking to another.

As our fingertips lingered, a deep voice said, “Sis, meet my kid, Saint.”

When her red lips finally smiled, I saw beyond her tough as nails exterior. “Hi, Saint.” When I smiled in return, a little gasp escaped her. “He’s just a baby.”

Lynx beamed at me. “Another wolf in the making.”

My eyes shifted, alerting them both to someone approaching. They instantly parted and faced what was coming.

A large man had a saddened face but open arms. “Brother, I’m glad you’re here.”

Lynx hugged him. “Oz, I’m so sorry for the loss…”

As they talked, Justice opened my door. I was sure to hold my Dad’s urn so it wouldn’t fall out. She leaned in and whispered, “I take it you heard some of that conversation?”

I nodded.

She looked regretful but whispered, “I need you to stay with one of your Austin officers or Diesel at all times. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I’m going to do my best to keep you at my side, but officers will be having a meeting. I have to be in there. You,” she shook her head, as if not wanting to follow a club law for the very first time, “are not allowed in there.” Her hand rested on my knee. “But I trust Diesel as much as my own brother.”

I nodded, totally believing her, and understood why she felt that way.

“Be sure to put on your cut and keep it on unless told by one of your officers. You are to keep your weapons on you at all times. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If anyone tries to get you alone, stay with an officer. If anyone tries to pump you for info without an officer monitoring the conversation, do not talk—”

Charlie tried to push past her to see me, but she snarled, “Dog. Sit.”

Charlie sat.

As if Justice was very accustomed to being obeyed, she now ignored the dog and laid a hand on my dad’s urn. “I am sorry for all that keeps getting thrown at you, but one day soon, we will be home and able to chill the fuck out.” In Justice’s ‘rip-the-Band-Aid-off’ style, she added, “Just not today.” She stood. “Let’s go.”

Stepping out of the SUV, I was surprised that Charlie didn’t move. He waited, watching Justice until she gestured that he could come to me, which he did with his nubby tail wagging a million times a second.

The man who was talking to Lynx saw me and stared. Then he looked to my urn and back at my face. “Lynx, you said kid but… damnit. He’s just a kid.”