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Can you remember who you were,
before the world told you who you should be?
Saint has a grin nearly the entire time he’s driving like a maniac. He’ll randomly glance over, wearing a smirk full of trouble. I don’t know where we’re headed or what’s going on. He stole the car apparently, and now we have to get it back right away, or someone from the mafia will be angry.
This is the most excitement I’ve had in my entire life, and I’m loving every minute of it. It’s the adventure I wished for yesterday in the middle of my boring work shift; never in a million years did I think it would come true. These things don’t happen to people like me; we go about living our lives like robots. Now I’m involved with not only one biker, but two. And who knows what’s going to happen next.
Saint showed up out of the blue in the middle of the night looking for Sinner. When he saw him sleeping, he explained that he’s Sinner’s best friend and asked if we could talk. I wasn’t going to turn him away. Sinner’s done so much for me, that the least I could do is be friendly to his best friend.
I quickly learned that Saint is nothing like the man I’ve come to look forward to spending time with. Where Sinner’s features are dark, Saint’s are light. The contrast is striking and confusing because they’re each beautiful.
He’s funny and a bit wild and wasn’t scared in the least bit to touch me. He treated me so sweetly at first, talking to me and complimenting me like I’m the prettiest thing he’s ever seen before. Guys I meet are either creepy about it or fall flat, but he had just the right mix of charisma. I don’t understand why Sinner didn’t bring him around sooner.
Saint’s name matches his face too. He reminds me of someone you’d read about but never actually see in person. I liked him nearly instantly and even more so when he leaned over and kissed me on my bed. After that, I didn’t want him to stop. I got his shirt off and let him touch me everywhere. I couldn’t help myself; I pictured his hands were Sinner’s sometimes too.
He caressed me in ways I’d been dreaming of Sinner doing, all the while telling me how special I am. He said I have to be different, for Sinner to take care of me like he has been. That has to mean something, right? I wish I knew how he felt; it would make everything so much easier.
“We’re home, baby,” he mutters randomly, gesturing toward the foliage out in front of us.
Peering at the scenery around us, I take in the quickly passing land. There are lots of trees and a dirt road that he drives over so fast, we could be flying. We drive through a giant open gate then hit a large paved parking area where an imposing building finally comes into sight.
Saint yanks up on the brake handle resting between us, causing the car to jerk and spin wildly. A scream breaks free as I grasp for something to hold on to and not get slung around. He must love it though because he hoots and howls, laughing as we spin, gunning the gas over and over.
A group of angry looking men come pouring outside, their hands shading their eyes to watch us as Saint slings random rocks around and smokes up the parking lot from burning tires.
I have to close my eyes after that because if I don’t, I’m sure that I’ll puke. “Pleeease stop, Saint.”
“I told you, baby, you call me daddy, just like you do my boy, Sinner. He may not appreciate it, but I think it’s sexy as fuck.”
“Okay-okay, just, please. I’m going to puke.” The nickname was a joke toward Sinner, meant to get under his skin, but Saint seems to enjoy the word falling from my mouth. He keeps reminding me that it turns him on. “For me, daddy, so I don’t get sick.”
He cackles at my begging, and the car comes to a stop, rocking as it finally halts in one spot.
It’s as if I’m still moving, even though the engine’s quieted to a near silent purr once again. Is this what a boat’s like? “Oh God, I don’t feel so well.”
I open my eyes again just as a monster sized man looking like a Nordic god storms toward the vehicle and nearly rips the door from the hinges. Impossible you’d think since they open upward, but this man’s so ripped, I’m sure he could tear it off if he wanted to. Yelping in surprise, the shock makes me freeze up, gawking as the scene unfolds right beside me.
“The fuck!” He roars and reaches in, grabbing Saint around the neck. He yanks him from the vehicle and slams his body across the hood like a rag doll. I’m about to scream again—this time for help—until I hear Saint laughing about it all.
“Damn, man! You need to drive this whip ASAP, Vike! Fucking a-mazing!”
My own door opens much less dramatically, and a grouchy guy wearing a frown nearly the same size as the one called “Vike” glowers down at me. He’s got a crazy scar on his face, the silver slashing through one of his mocha colored irises and dark, wavy, shoulder-length hair.
“Hi?” The question escapes in a high pitch, nearly a squeak.
His hand comes toward me, and my eyes widen as my heart rate again quickens. He watches, breaking out in a surprised chuckle after a moment, then flips it over, giving me his palm. It takes everything in me to swallow my fear down and place my much smaller hand in his.
The man helps me climb out, steadying me as I stand, which is a good thing, considering I’m quite wobbly. “Oh, thank you,” I acknowledge and hiccup, as I silently pray I don’t upchuck in front of all these guys.
“You all right, darlin’?” he mumbles as a shorter guy comes to stand next to him.
“Night, don’t be calling her that. Your ol’ lady hears that word leave your mouth, and you’ll be peelin’ her off this chick.”
Night, or whatever his name is, shrugs. “Brother, my woman knows she’s mine. This pint-sized woman looked like she was gonna be sick, and I don’t want her puking or sitting in the Russian’s car when he shows up. Unless you feel like cleaning up puke, Spidey?”
The other man shakes his head and offers me a kind smile.
Night grunts. “I’m Nightmare, this is Spider.” He gestures to the less buff, amused guy to his right.
