Page 53 of Savage Saint

“You were shot.”

“Part of the job description,” the club’s VP deadpans.

“Then you almost fell down the stairs.”

“That’s called a small slip. Not even a trip.”

“You ripped your fucking stitches, Kaos.” Silence. Not a single rebuttal. “You are on leave until Doc gives the all-clear, do you hear me?”

“Direct order from my brother, or president?”

“Both. I’m always both.”

“Understood.”

I let out a long and tired sigh. “Mom and Klara are on lockdown, Trino. All women on the compound are. No exception.”

“For how long?” His tone changed; I’m talking to the club’s VP.

“We’ll decide that after church tonight. Let the brothers know. We’ll meet at seven.”

“How bad?”

“Bad enough I’m grounding them.”

“Say no more. They’ll be here when you get back, Saint.”

“Good. I’ll have my phone on me.”

“Where are you going?”

I ignore his question, slipping my shirt and pants off, staying in nothing but my boxer briefs. My tattoos are highlighted by my bronze skin, but it’s the words inked along the inside of the same arm as the patron saint that remind me of her.

Protect those behind me. Strengthen the man before them.

Pretty eyes.

Long dark curls.

Cute in my clothes.

Genesis Romero.

“Still there?” Kaos asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Unfortunately.”

“Funny,” he deadpans, something that sounds like a baseball game playing in the background. “But seriously, one more question.”

“Ask.” I lean one hip against the counter, eyes still on the words inked across my chest. Remembering how sweet she looked when I carried her into her apartment, even the small noise of contentment she made.

“Are the women in danger?”

Is Genesis in danger?

That thought hits me a second after his question. I dragged her into the clubhouse after a shooting—put her in the middle of our mess. Every brother there saw her. Every cuero heard about her.

And if Janelle sold out my sister…