Page 99 of Hostile Saint

This brotherhood on wheels was nothing if not absolutely impressive.

The sky was dark, the air brisk, but my leather vest was warm.

Life was such an unknown road, but on a dragon, there was no road I wasn’t willing to travel. I thought to myself, Someday I will have Lacey on the back of one of these, and we can ride, together.

The Colorado Stallion clubhouse was tucked away, a little outside of the city. No surrounding homes or businesses were near this massive-sized two-story log cabin. There was no fencing around the compound, but lights in the ground, on poles, and in trees lit up as we drove down the widest driveway I had ever seen. It was dark asphalt, for what felt like half a mile of us triggering more lights. I had a feeling there was nowhere on the property anyone could approach without being lit up, announcing their arrival, invited or not.

And, if that wasn’t enough of a deterrent, the slew of waiting Doberman Pinchers certainly was. There were five of them, all paced at some sort of invisible barrier as if their collars didn’t permit them to wander too far from the inner property they were to protect.

There were lights on inside the beautiful clubhouse. I just couldn’t believe it belonged to tough bikers. And I couldn’t believe Lynx had preferred our modest little rental!

As if reading my mind, Lynx hollered over his shoulder. “Badass, right? Their Prez took advantage of a foreclosure and renovated it to his specifications.”

Whoever used to own the home must have also once owned a very large plane. Off to the right was a huge hangar.

I peered over my shoulder. That hadn’t been a driveway. It was a landing strip.

As the front of the line of dragons got closer to the hangar, two massive sliding doors separated to welcome the bikes into a brightly lit warehouse.

Not pausing or minding the dogs, each bike drove inside, and one by one veered off into designated parking areas that each looked personalized. There were couches, chairs, mini-fridges, dartboards, posters—anything the biker seemed to favor and crave in his little domain.

As soon as brake lights lit near the designated areas, engines were cut. I assumed it was for exhaust reasons, seeing the ventilation units along the ceiling.

At the far end of the hangar was a vast bar area. Liquor bottles galore. Pool tables, tall tables, normal four-tops, and more couches. Massive TVs. Small monitors. More dartboards. An area that had axes hanging on the wall, as if while consuming alcohol, throwing axes was wise.

Lynx soon cut his engine and let momentum carry us into a parking spot that, on the wall in front of us read, Lynx, the Stallion of us all.

Vice and Dagger pulled up behind us.

All of us unloading, a man approached. “I’m glad you’re finally here, where you belong when in my state.”

Like Dagger and Diesel, this man was also older than Lynx. He had a long grey beard and was covered in tattoos. He was wearing a backward ball cap and a sincere smile.

Smiling, Lynx hugged him and said, “Eagle,” loudly patting his back, showing he thought highly of this man. “You’re right. Just had some shit to work out. Thank you for your help through all this. Much appreciated.”

A lick to my hand caught my attention. “Hey, buddy.” I started petting the curious dog, his nub of a tail wagging a million times a second.

While hugging Dagger and Vice, Eagle replied, “Not doing a damn thing you wouldn’t do for any Stallion yourself.” He saw me petting the dog. “Hey! Charlie likes ya! He don’t like many. His nickname is actually Dickhead.”

I smiled at all the licks as I played with his ears. “Nice to meet you, Charlie.” I told the man, “I’ve never had a dog before. You’re really lucky to have five. Wow.”

He paused… then held out his hand. “I’m Eagle. I see everything I’ve heard about you is true, Saint.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing but shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir. Thank you so much for having some of your men watch over my Lacey.”

Eagle dipped a chin. “Old Ladies are sacred and treated as such.”

Lynx chuckled. “Mine is probably cursing my name due to all the eyes on her right now.” He widened his stance. “Okay, talk ta’ me, Eagle. What do we know?”

“Not enough.” Eagle rubbed down his grey beard after crossing his arms. “Kansas chapter is on high alert.” Lynx nodded as if very aware of what that meant and kept listening. “The Stallion has yet to wake but is said to survive. Oz is trying to get more intel on the inside, but with two deaths and a poisoning, the prison is on lockdown.”

Dagger quietly explained to me, “Oz is that chapter’s Prez.”

I nodded as Lynx asked Eagle, “So, no idea how the Stallion was tagged?”

Eagle shook his head. “Oz says his Stallion was not to approach this Ted and Ed scientist duo.”

Dagger was concerned. “There’re eyes in there. Someone saw or heard the Stallion do something that grabbed their attention.”