Page 95 of Hostile Saint

“Oh,” answered his brother, “dat’s fur his training.”

“Trainin’? To mek cupcakes?”

Laughter… Laughter…

Staring at the Stallion emblem, I stumbled backward until the back of my legs touched my bed with drunk bikers laughing at me. I didn’t take my eyes off my cut as I awkwardly crawled in bed. Hiccup! “Erm I biiiiiker now?” Hiccup!

Diesel informed me, “Kinda need a bike to be eh biker.”

Laughter… Laughter…

Bam! Dagger complained, “Did yur just fall inta’ me?”

Lynx asked, “Which one of yer? I s-seeee two.”

Laughter… Laughter…

My head hit the pillow and my eyes slid shut. “I can’t wait to hev a dragon.”

“The fffuck?”

Laughter… Laughter…

Walls rattled as the drunk bikers tried to make their way back down the hallway.

“Get orff me!”

Laughter… Laughter…

“Then stop I’ in ma way!”

Laughter… Laughter…

“Did we jus’ tuck a biiiiker nighty-night?”

Laughter… Laughter…

“Hey! No jurdging. At est we let him sweep alone now.”

“The fuuuck?”

Laughter… Laughter…

“Bunch o’ cupcake cookin’ pussies.”

Laughter… Laughter…

With a smile plastered to my face, I fell asleep—passed out.

Having a safe place to rest—being in the rental home with deadly bikers and feeling protected—made me vulnerable. That’s why, sometime later, when I heard someone come into my room, I didn’t even bother to open my eyes. Men checking on me was nothing new. But when a strong, unfamiliar hand gripped my shoulder, I knew I was in trouble.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Evading Poison

“Stallion for—” attempted the man grabbing my shoulder, but avoiding capture was second nature to me. Even on Tequila. In fact, the alcohol intensified my instinct to evade predators. Hence why I rolled away so fast and got my feet on the carpet. The same male voice whispered, “Hey!” as he shined a penlight in my eyes. “Stallion—”

“That’s right, I’m a Stallion.” Slightly blinded by the light, I still found my way to my dresser and grabbed my spoon. “And I’m trained.”