Page 132 of Hostile Saint

Diesel and his men came to me. “Are we the scariest el babysitter-os you’ve ever seen-o?”

Fuck me if I didn’t sigh at the big bastard. “Apparently, I’ve got connections.”

He grabbed my shoulders and shook, laughing. “Jesus, Pup. You brave little motherfucker. Still finding the balls to joke around before using your gun!” He yelled over his shoulder, “Hey, Brat! You need to take some notes.”

Brat? I knew that name! He was the Stallion Prospect that was with the bunny, Sapphire. Thinking another Prospect would be a welcoming sight, I quickly scanned the men moving about to find a young man glaring at me. It was clear we wouldn’t be fast friends.

Diesel shook his head. “He has connections, too, but also the sense of humor of a boiled egg.”

Baffled by the horrible example, I looked at Diesel with a perplexed expression.

Diesel nodded. “Exactly.”

What?

Right before Lynx and Oz did hand gestures, preparing their men, I took one more look at my Lacey, sleeping in her bed. I touched the screen of my phone. I love you. This was it. Judgment day was headed for my abusers’ doorstep.

I could feel them nearby.

I could also feel my true brothers. My new biker family. Their hunger… all ready to honor the Stallions who needed them.

In mere seconds, this organized group of men who ride together, live together, and love together, were now walking together… into the woods, to find retribution.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Wanting Retribution

There were no streetlamps or beaming stars to light the way. Not even the new moon offered light. This was to be a dark journey, in every way. Some Stallions had flashlights, but they were kept to the ground as we walked and walked, quietly making our way through trees. I ignored the fact that I knew I didn’t need a flashlight to see. It was as if my tortured soul knew the way with no guidance.

As time passed with no conversation due to the group needing to be as quiet as possible, I wondered if I would recognize the building in which I was once held captive. I prayed there would be no haunting screams echoing in the hallways…

Instead of letting those memories spook me, I focused on Charlie, right in front of me. I focused on the twigs and leaves that cracked and crunched under my leather biker boots. I focused on telling myself not to be afraid to kill someone who deserved it. Yet, no matter how many times I repeated it in my head, I couldn’t shake the belief that I had no right to take a life.

That is until I heard a sound I recognized so deep inside that my soul started to pulse. My spirit vibrated and my heart roared. My blood boiled and my mind focused on all that my ears were feeding it.

The sounds were faint. In fact, I think only Charlie and I could hear them. That’s why I whispered to Diesel, “You don’t hear them, do you?”

“Talk to me, kid.”

“The men.”

“The fuck?” But then he looked to Charlie, who was tilting his head as if trying to understand the unfamiliar sound.

But I knew.

I knew those sounds were men chanting, in the midst of a ritual.

We weren’t going to make it to the building.

These bikers were about to come across one of the goriest sights they would ever see in this life, or the next.

Staring at Diesel, I silently begged him to warn Lynx.

He studied me… then gave me a nod before aiming his flashlight’s beam down the row of men until it hit the side of Lynx’s face.

Lynx quickly put a fist in the air.

Within seconds, the entirety of weaponed men came to a stop.