Chapter 10

(Saint)

Stake your Claim

“You better give thanks to whatever deity you believe in that my brother fell in love with your grandson or more of you fucks would be bleeding out in the dirt right now!”

Saint silently nodded his agreement, still clutching Sinn to his chest. He had no desire to let go, his nerves were so frazzled that if he could have driven back to North Carolina with Sinn in front of him on the bike, he’d have done it. If Sinn was a little smaller, it might be worth a try…or not. Leaning, balance, everything would be off from that position. Damn it all to hell, practical wasn’t anything he wanted a part of right now.

He was just relieved…and pissed.

They’d rolled into a scene of utter chaos and been forced to act fast to keep the Disciples of Chaos from being mowed down. Outnumbered and on foot, many without even their boots on, the Disciples of Chaos had been scrambling to defend themselves. The other MC had picked the perfect time to attack, catching the Disciples when they were vulnerable and shooting the shit outta the windows in the big brick house they were currently standing in. Several of the Disciples wore socks soaked through with blood. They were going to have fun picking all that glass out of their soles.

Was a wonder no one had been killed.

Several Disciples had been wounded though, a few seriously. Their Doc was still taking care of things, with the help of Doc B, who’d ridden in with them to take care of any Jokers that might need assistance. Who was he kidding. He’d insisted on Doc B’s presence for Sinn, terrified of what condition he might be found in. He was just relieved that it was his family who’d had him, not one of their enemies.

“Your timing could have been better,” Sinn’s Grandfather, Sampson grumbled as he grimaced and bent to pick a sliver of glass out of his foot. “Would have been nice not to have to replace all the windows.”

“Can’t you just say thank you and call it good, Gramps!” Sinn snapped.

Sinn’s old man, who still hadn’t introduced himself by name yet, was a massive beast of a man that riveled Creature in height, and he was the largest Joker they had riding with them. Still, Saint wouldn’t hesitate to knock the man on his ass if he tried to yank Sinn away from him.

“You don’t talk to your grandfather like that,” Sinn’s father growled, stopping short when Night stepped between Saint and the man, fists clenched like he was about to throw down at the slightest provocation.

“How about I just forget that I have a father or grandfather after the shit you pulled,” Sinn said as he reached out and pressed his hand to the middle of Night’s back.

When the younger Joker turned, it was only enough so he could look at Sinn without leaving himself vulnerable to being blindsided. It was Sinn who motioned him to step aside, and Night immediately complied, though he still stayed close enough to intervene if he needed to.

“You plan to forget that you have a mama too?” His mom said as a line of several Disciples parted to allow a diminutive woman to stalk through.

She stopped inches from her son, her expression unreadable as her shrewd gaze skimmed over Sinn to land firmly on Saint who met her cold stare with a glare of his own.

“Just answer me one thing,” she said, her eyes narrowing a little. “What would you have done if Sinclair wasn’t here?”

“Burned half of Texas to the ground until someone admitted to having him,” Night muttered beneath his breath, prompting snickers from several Jokers who’d all pressed in around Saint, forming a protective wall of brotherhood and menace.

They’d stomp the Disciples of Chaos in their own dwelling if it came to it. Saint could tell from the shifting stances, clenched fists, and the clatter of bike chains some had used as weapons, that several of his brothers were itching for shit to kick off.

“He ain’t lying,” Saint replied. “Though I wouldn’t have stopped at half if Sinn hadn’t been returned to me. I wouldn’t have stopped at the borders of Texas either and neither would the rest of these guys. We don’t leave family in the hands of enemies, even when those enemies happen to be family too.”

“Now wait a god damned minute,” Sampson said, puffing up again. “You don’t want to be making a declaration of war with us. Not when this is all the men you brought with you.”

“You declared war the minute you kidnapped my boy,” Saint said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the collar he’d gotten for Sinn weeks ago.

With deft fingers he fashioned it around Sinn’s neck and kept his hand firmly on the back of it when he turned back to face the old man.

“Now, if you want to call a truce, I’d be willing to do that,” Saint said. “But if you’re planning on snatching him again, you boys better have your affairs in order, because you won’t make it back to Texas in one piece.”

“What’s saying you’re going to make it out of Texas or this yard in one piece?” Sinn’s father snarled.

“Them.”

Every Disciple in the room turned to look in the direction Saint pointed, several of them uttering profanities and one a whispered prayer when they saw the sheer amount of firepower pointed at them through their shattered windows.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Mark snarled, the ruthlessness in his older brother’s voice reminding Saint of the days when they’d first taken over the Jokers from their old man. “We didn’t rescue you ‘cause we gave a shit, we did it because those bastards who were hell bent on killing you were standing between us and finding out if you knew who had Sinn. Now that we’ve got him back, ending a potential threat would just be a bonus.”

While Sinn’s grandfather looked ready to have a stroke with as red as his face had gotten, Sinn’s mother had gone from glaring to smiling.

“Ease the fuck down, both of you,” she said when she shot a look over her shoulder. “I’m choking on testosterone right now and it’s not a good taste. We got the answers we wanted. Let’s leave it at that.”

“As long as these fuckers…” Sinn’s old man began.

She didn’t say a word, she just growled as she turned to look at him. Whatever her husband or ex-husband or whatever the situation was saw in her eyes was enough to silence him and make him take a half step back. Well now, it was good to know who wore the pants around here.

“Thought you guys went legit?” Sampson grumbled.

“Legit don’t mean soft,” Mark reminded him.

When Sampson rubbed his beard, looking deep in thought, Saint knew the old man was cooking something up in that grizzled head of his.

“You serious about being willing to eliminate any threat to Sinclair?” Sampson asked.

“That look serious enough to you?” Mark asked as he gestured towards the Jokers who still had their weapons trained on the Disciples.

“That outfit you ran off won’t hesitate to cross state lines looking for you and my grandson,” Sampson said. “Of course, they won’t be able to look for shit if we carve their eyes out and send them to meet the undertaker.”

“What’s in it for us?” Mark asked.

“Cut of the spoils.”

“Unless you’re talking fifty-fifty, it ain’t worth our while.”

“Done.” Sampson said.

“Now hold on a minute, Pops,” Sinn’s father began only to catch twin glares from Sinn’s mother and Sampson, effectively silencing him.

“Make yourself useful boy and get a clean-up crew together while the adults have themselves a conversation.”

The hulking man grumbled beneath his breath, but he went and did as he was told, taking several of the less damaged Disciples with him.

“Sinclair, I’d like you far from here before more shit kicks off,” his mother said.

“Gladly,” Sinn said, jerking away when his mother went to touch his face.

“You know I had to be certain that you were in good hands.”

“No, you had to be certain I wouldn’t be a liability,” Sinn said. “And because of that you’ve managed to rope in reinforcements. How convenient or not, considering how well I know you. Are you really going to stand there and keep insisting that the only reason you sent guys to snatch me was for my benefit and protection or were you counting on Saint coming after me and bringing the reinforcements you needed to take whoever the fuck that was down.”

“Was them yellow bellied Serpents,” Sampson hissed. “Who else would be so ballsy as to slither up to our door and try to lay waste to the place?”

“I don’t know, Gramps, you all are forever pissing people off. The Savage Serpents might be at the top of the list, but you and I both know it’s a long list.”

“Meh,” the old man grumbled. “Enough useless gabbing. We’ve got planning to do and I could use a stiff whiskey to wash away the taste of all this bullshit.”

Saint felt Sinn draw in a breath like he was about to continue the argument and gave the back of his neck a squeeze. His growl was only half in protest as he melted against Saint’s chest.

“One of these days,” Sinn grumbled.

“Maybe, but not this one,” Saint firmly informed him.

He’d have chuckled at the sound of Sinn’s heavy sigh and mumbled fuck if they were anywhere else, but here he just squeezed the back of his neck again, a reminder of who was in charge.

“Are you able to send Sinclair back to South Carolina with some of your crew?” Sinn’s mother asked.

Saint’s eyes followed Mark’s as he looked around at the faces in the room as well as those in the window.

“Cody, Wreck, Bellamay and his crew can take him back,” Mark declared. “Can’t ask those guys to stick around now that the mission is through.”

“You ain’t gotta ask,” Yellow Teeth said. “Me and Rascal are stayin’. No way we’re missing out on the chance to bust some skulls.”

“Suit yourselves,” Mark said, but Saint could tell that he was pleased and impressed by the dedication of the Colorado crew.

They might be surly, but as soon as they’d gotten rolling Saint couldn’t have asked for better additions to their road crew, especially after seeing the way they’d handled themselves in the unexpected melee they’d rolled into.

“Night goes back with them,” Saint declared, leveling his sternest gaze at the prospect when Night’s lips parted like he was about to refuse.

Saint felt Sinn tense in his arms and knew he’d have his hands full with not one but two stubborn, mouthy fuckers who clearly needed a remedial course in following orders without questioning him at every turn. He’d make sure they learned and good once he had them back at the Jokers’ compound and enjoy doing it too. He was looking forward to seeing how many stripes he could put across their pale asses before they begged him for mercy and promised to do as he said the first time he said it.

“I know you can’t read the patch on my vest, but it says Vice President for a reason,” Saint murmured as he pressed a kiss to Sinn’s lips, pleased when he opened up and thoroughly tongue fucked him in front of everyone.

“Fine, but Imma be pissed if you come home less than intact,” Sinn grumbled. “There are several things I’ve missed that you won’t be able to give me if you get broken.”

“You don’t worry about me,” Saint said. “I’ll be there to give you all that you can handle and more just as soon as we’re finished with whatever your grandfather has in mind.”

Saint lowered his voice so Sinn would be the only one to hear him. “Is your grandfather legit? He gonna keep his word when this is done?”

“Yeah,” Sinn said. “That’s one thing you don’t ever have to worry about. If he says something you best believe he’ll follow through to the letter.”

“Good to know,” Saint said, kissing him again before turning him loose. “Now get moving and don’t let Night double back once he gets you there.”

“No worries, I’ll come up with something to keep him occupied.”

“Oh I bet you will,” Saint said. “When this is over, you and I need to have a conversation about him.”

“You pissed?”

“Hell no, but I need to know if you’re after a pet, a plaything or more.”

Sinn didn’t hesitate, his voice firm when he growled, “More.”

They might as well have been in their own little world, lips almost touching as they breathed in the air the other exhaled, Saint staring into the depts of Sinn’s near sightless eyes. “Then he’s ours and we’ll claim him as soon as I get back home.”

“I hope you intend to hurry.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“That you asking or telling?”

“Little of both.”

“Good boy,” Saint whispered, kissing him again before stepping away.

“You ready to get down to brass tacks or you plannin’ on sucking face with my grandson all afternoon?” Sampson asked.

“I’ll get back to you,” Saint said, drawing snickers from the men around them.

He didn’t have to watch to know Night was leading Sinn to the door. He heard the jangle of the chains on Bellamey’s boots as he followed them out. Cody lingered for a moment between them, making eye contact with first his dad, then Saint.

“Any orders I need to pass on?” Cody asked.

If he was pissed about not being able to stay, he didn’t show it. The boy had matured since Shaw’s crew had tried to run him down in an alley and then beaten the shit out of him.

Maybe they needed to start avoiding those alleys for the foreseeable future. Shit always seemed to jump off when they were in them.

“Tell your brother to keep the lockdown in place until he hears from me,” Mark said.

“Yes, sir,” Cody said.

“And you know what to tell your mama.”

Cody nodded. “Always.”

“Good kid,” Mark said. “I don’t want you guys stoppin’ unless it’s God dammed necessary, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then get to it,” Mark said, but not before clasping his son on the shoulder.

Saint gave him a nod too. “You did good, kid, now finish the job and don’t forget to send the code when you get back so we know all’s good.

“Will do.”

He took his leave after that, striding past Disciples and Jokers with his head held high. A year ago he wouldn’t have been able to do that. He’d have been too pissed at being sent back to recognize the importance of the mission he’d been assigned. Now, it was clear he got it and was taking the responsibility seriously. With the way he’d shown up for Sinn already, Saint knew that the man he loved couldn’t be in better hands than if he was in Saint’s own.

“What’s the Serpent’s roster looking like these days?” Sampson asked as he poured a round of whiskies.

His sergeant-at-arms, a burly motherfucker with four fat scars gouged from his right temple to the left side of his chin, spat tobacco juice in a red plastic cup before answering.

“Couple new prospects. Gilly’s running shit now that Miguel got sent up state to face the needle. They’ve been cookin’ meth up at that old still site Gilly’s pappy set up, Old Verne’s still runnin’ shit up there too, but the last time I talked to Dizzy up at county, he said there’s some bad blood brewin’ between them, and a couple brawls already popped off on the inside. I’m thinkin’ their strike on us is Gilly’s way of tryin’ to prove ta the old bastard that he’s got the stones to run that outfit.”

“Well, I guess it’s fixin’ ta suck to be Gilly, because those stones of his are exactly what I’m planning on cutting off and giftwrapping for old Verne,” Sampson declared. “It’s time to end this war once and for all. Should have put Gilly down when I took out his old man, but he was still just a mouthy pup back then…a mongrel cur with an attitude he couldn’t back up, but still too young to die for the sins of his fathers.”

Saint watched the old biker swirl the remains of his whiskey around the bottom of his glass, eyes having taken on a faraway look. It was clear this war had been raging for a while but his words about not killing the son of his enemy before he could become an enemy himself was right in line with the Joker’s own creed. Civilians were off limits, but the moment you put on a kutte, all bets were off, that’s just the way it had always been and always would be.

“Alright, here’s what I’m thinking,” Sampson said. “I’ll take one line of bikes up that dry gully behind the still site. Hank, you’re leading the charge through the front gate. Vega, you take JJ, Ryder and the Jokers up the east trail and flank them, Willie you come in from the west. By the time those bastards realize that they’re surrounded, half the fuckers will already be dying in the dust.”

“We waiting for nightfall?” Sinn’s old man asked.

“Dawn,” Sampson replied. “Moon’s gonna be a sliver tonight and they’ll be expecting us. Makin’ um wait until morning will leave them exhausted, on edge and high as fuck. Especially after Ghost and Shadow get through with them.”

When Sampson turned to speak to a pale man in light gray leathers standing beside an African American man dressed from head to toe in black, including the metal wrapped plateau hat perched on the top of his head, Saint realized he’d never even noticed them enter the room. Even Mark’s eyebrow went up a fraction after seeing the pair step from the shadows.

“I want flash bangs and gorilla tactics. I want their nerves frayed by the time we roll in. Crank the music loud, make the explosions louder. I don’t want them finding shit when they go searching. If we get lucky, maybe a couple will take themselves out bumbling around with flashlights trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“I like the way you think,” Mark said. “But you’d do more damage with some carefully placed tripwires. Make them set off most of the flashbangs themselves. Then your guys have plenty more time to set up surprises for them.”

The old man chuckled, a sadistic grin sliding across his face. “You heard the man,” Sampson declared. “Make it happen.”

They were gone as quickly as they came, their footfalls not even making a sound on the broken glass and scuffed up wood. He caught Creature watching out of the corner of his eye, a look of silent approval on the big man’s face. When it came to sneak attacks, he was their go to. Knowing him, he’d wind up picking those men’s brains before the trip was over.

“Now, I suggest everyone get their weapons in order and find a place to crash,” Sampson declared. “Tex, make sure you’ve got the dynamite ready. I don’t want that still or that meth house standing when this is through. Bloody bastards have been poisoning our county for long enough. It’s time we rid it of Serpents and Rocket Fuel while we’ve got the chance. Never cottoned to pushers no matter how much their shit brought in. There are better ways to earn.”

“Amen to that,” Saint said, with several others chiming in, Jokers and Disciples alike.

Of all the illegal enterprises they’d had a hand in, and there had been more than a few, drug dealing and manufacturing had been something Mark had never allowed them to dip a toe in. Anyone who tried had been swiftly dealt with. The lucky had run out of town without their kuttes. The unlucky would never be found.