Page 45 of Savage Saint

His jaw is working. Grinding hard.

I can hear his teeth from where I’m standing. “Stop that shit.”

His eyes flick to mine. “Saint, I’m⁠—?”

“Your jaw. Quit.”

Onyx rolls it once, but the grinding stops. Barely. “Is everyone here?”

“Just waiting on Gallo. He’s picking up something for me.”

“I’m ready, Saint.”

That I believe.

The guilt hasn’t left him since Kaos was shot. Doesn’t matter that he was with Flow and Toro on the port run—I sent him there—when it happened. To Onyx, being the club’s enforcer means protecting every patched brother wearing our colors, and Trino getting hit while he wasn’t there has settled beneath his skin like a fucking infection.

I understand it. That ire has been poisoning my blood.

Doesn’t mean I’ll let it control me. Or him.

“He talks first.” Not a request.

Onyx’s mouth flattens. “Then what happens to that mamagüevos?”

“Depends on what he gives me. It’s in his best interest that he’s honest.”

Not the answer he wants, but he nods. Good enough.

Rizos moves behind the bar, grabbing an orange juice before tossing another to Onyx. “Flow’s outside, by the way. He was giving his bike a quick rundown.”

“And Toro?” I ask before finishing my water and tossing the bottle.

“Watching the port for out-of-town guests. He has two brothers with him.”

“Good.” I head toward the door, Onyx and Rizos falling into step. At the clubhouse door, we bump into Gallo. Maria’s talking to him. She says the words, gives him the sign of the cross, then kisses his thumb.

She repeats the same words for each brother without the kiss at the end.

A blessing. To make sure we return safely.

My mother would do the same if she were here.

Outside, Puerto Plata is already warming beneath its tropical morning sun. The kind that turns humid air thick before breakfast and promises worse by midday.

A good day for tribunal.

Flow is already sitting sideways on his bike, staring at his phone, but looks up as we approach. He’s quick to stand, pocketing his phone.

I glance at Gallo once Maria walks into the clubhouse. “You get it?”

“Yes.” Gallo lifts a small case in his hand. “Drove out there this morning.”

My father’s gun. One of two.

Kaos owns this one. He knows why I had a member pick it up.

We made an agreement years ago, and today I keep my end.