Page 109 of The Lies We Tell
One night, Ryker and Spark stayed up talking around the fire pit in the yard while Iris and I sat inside together. I adore her. And from the way Saint and Spark hugged each other before they went to bed, I think their friendship, while currently fragile, will survive too.
We collect the matching payment. A mix of the money we’d been given and cash Saint had hidden in the lining of one of his bags. Money the club paid him that was supposed to serve as ATF evidence. Only he and I knew that was where the money came from.
And in the times in between, I focused on my work. I become a pro at doing work in snatches so I didn’t lose any clients.
Seven days later, I’m busy packing. Saint had his stitches removed. The bruising has faded. He finished the course of antibiotics Switch gave him. And we both want some sunshine before winter hits. Mexico is calling. We have flights in the morning.
“Babe,” Saint says as he checks out my pile of shoes. “I thought we were travelling light.”
“This is light. I narrowed it down from seven pairs to four. Plus my sneakers. And my flip-flops.”
He laughs as he playfully knocks me down on the bed and then sits next to me. His ribs still hurt. Switch says it will take three to six weeks for them to fully heal. Saint is pretending he’s fine, but he forgets I can see him wince. I wiggle up close to him, keeping my head on his bicep rather than his chest. We’ve not had sex yet because of it. The blow job I’d tried two nights ago at his request was great until he came, tensing his abs as he cried out in a mix of ecstasy and agony as it pulled against his ribs.
“I can reduce the shoes,” I admit.
He kisses the top of my head. “Meh. You’re good. I was teasing. Plus, your legs look good in those heels. I’m gonna fuck you in them somewhere we shouldn’t on vacation.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Is that before or after your ribs heal and you can perform in a way you don’t throw your back out, old man?”
Saint laughs but then stifles it and grabs his ribs. “Shit. Don’t make me laugh.”
“You sure you’re up for travelling? We could wait another week.”
“Heal here, heal there. Whatever. I feel like some sun and a sun lounger are the best choice. Although, you might have to haul that case full of shoes off the baggage carousel yourself.”
“Good practice for a few more years when I need to push you around with your walker.”
“Fuck, Bri,” he mutters as he shudders with muted laughter.
The distant rumble of bikes turns into a roar until they all seem to stop outside the house. I jump up and check the window. “It’s Spark, Clutch, Niro, Halo, Switch, Vex, Bates, and some guy with black hair.”
Saint sits up slowly. “That’ll be King.”
I met all the others over the last week, except King. Some have been nice. Clutch came with Gwen, and we hung out together. I learned I’m now an old lady. I said I should be considered a young lady given my age relative to Saint’s.
Gwen laughed. So did Halo and Spark. Saint spanked my ass later when we were alone, and I loved it. It was all the more exciting when he told me I couldn’t move because it would hurt his rib. Hence the almost aborted blow job.
“You wanna wait up here?” Saint asks as he joins me by the window.
I shake my head. “I’ve got my head around the idea that if they were going to kill either one of us, they would have done it by now.”
“Always the optimist, eh?”
I lean my head against Saint’s shoulder. “Isn’t that step one? No, two? Stop the doom spiral. Be an optimist. Control next steps, not the outcome?”
Saint grins. “See? Getting you to repeat it in the truck that day helped you remember it.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”
He takes my wrists and kisses me with more heat than the situation asks for.
Saint bites my lower lip. “Let’s go see why King’s here.”
I know King’s reaction has cut him deeper than the blade he carved into his stomach. Personally, I want to stab King in the eye with a rusty needle. Maybe one day I’ll feel more forgiving than I am now.
“Fine, I’ll come with you.”
By the time we get downstairs, most of the men are in the large kitchen.
