Chapter 18

(Sinn)

Soothing Hands, Wicked Tongues

Night hissed but said nothing as Saint changed the dressing on his back.

“Another day or two and we’ll be able to leave this off,” Saint murmured.

“How soon can I get back in the kitchen?” Night asked for the third time in the last two hours.

He was getting restless, something Sinn could understand. The gilded cage his folks had attempted to imprison him in had been stifling as hell. If his brother hadn’t welcomed him into the office he’d have gone out of his mind with boredom. Now that he was back where he wanted to be, he was grateful that the chance had never arisen for him to use his brother’s kindness to his own advantage.

“Spend another day in bed with us and I’ll speak to Mark,” Saint offered, “on the condition that you only work the lunch shift for now.”

“I can live with that.”

“Then I can too,” Saint replied.

Their Dom was doing better at not being overbearing, but Sinn knew it would take time before they worked out what was acceptable risk and when Saint was justified in laying down the law.

“The guys will be glad to see you,” Saint remarked. “You should hear the grumbling that’s gone on since the menu reverted back to frozen pre-fried whatever comes out of a bag.”

“Bar food doesn’t have to mean greasy, overly processed, or brimming with preservatives,” Night murmured against the side of Sinn’s neck, making him sigh and wiggle lower where he could trail his fingertips along Night’s side and lick his chest.

“Worry about food prep tomorrow,” Sinn grumbled. “Pay attention to me now.”

Night growled, arm snaking around Sinn to cup the back of his neck. “Gladly.”

“Something tells me I’m about to be treated to a show,” Saint said, the clatter and snap of things indicating he was packing the first aid kit away until later.

Night’s injuries, though bloody and painful, had proved to be mercifully shallow. Night’s explanation about his uncle’s methods of teaching lessons had left Saint seething, but with Night unwilling to give up the location of his families home, there was little any of them could do but wait until he was capable of riding with them to retrieve his kutte.

Was a hard balance and one Sinn fully understood. Fortunately, Mark was willing to try diplomacy first, even if it went against his nature.

Sinn took his time peppering Night’s skin with kisses and nipping from time to time to make sure he had his full attention and was no longer thinking about the recipes he wanted to introduce to the bar’s limited menu. After years of bland burgers, heaping mounds of fries, and overly fried chicken wings, his introduction of real cheesesteak sandwiches, chili and cornbread, and homemade tacos, had been met with cheers from many who got the bulk of their meals there. While Doc B had been tending to Night’s injuries, Mark had decreed that he’d be taking over the bar kitchen as soon as he was healthy and instructed him to devise both lunch and dinner menus, so the bar was more than just a walking advertisement for a heart attack. It was an assignment Night had willingly embraced, though there were moments, like this one, when Sinn wished the Prez had waited until Night was on his feet again before telling him about it.

Lazy and unhurried, he sought to erase the discomfort Night must have felt as Saint tended his wounds, while Saint slid onto the bed behind him caging Sinn in between their larger bodies.

“Don’t mind me,” Saint murmured as he swept Sinn’s hair to the side, exposing the back of his neck. “I’ll just be back here watching and tasting a little.”

“More like tickling a little,” Sinn griped good naturedly as Saint’s goatee brushed over his skin.

Of course, Night couldn’t resist dancing fingertips along his sides until Sinn was laughing and squirming between them, unable to draw a full breath. It was then that Night kissed him, stealing the last breath from his lungs, and curling his toes too. Hard and wanting Night’s hand on his cock, Sinn was shocked when Night pulled away abruptly, until he heard him moan and realized that Saint had pulled them apart so he could kiss Night too. They were moaning over his shoulder, Saint grinding against his ass, Night squirming against his front, squishing him in their enthusiasm, even while they caressed each other and him. Someone’s hand gripped his hair, someone’s teeth dragged over his shoulder and bit. Someone urged Sinn’s leg up and slid it over Night’s hip, while cool, slick fingers probed his entrance. Night squirmed backward, making enough space between them that Saint could wrap a slick hand around their cocks and press them together as he began to stroke them.

Now Night’s lips were back on his as they shared hungry kisses, moaning as Saint pleasured them both. They gasped out ragged pleas, Night’s fingers threading through Sinn’s hair as Sinn gripped his, their bodies trembling.

“Fuckkkkk!” Night whined as his cum splattered Sinn’s belly.

Sinn couldn’t formulate enough thought to say anything as he came because Saint had started fucking him harder, while still steadily stroking their dicks, and everything shattered into brilliant silver shockwaves of pleasure that blotted out the rest of the world.

They were all wrung out and sprawled across each other when the knock sounded on their door, interrupting the blissfulness of the afternoon. Sinn yanked the sheet over them while Saint rolled from the bed, muttering curses all the way to the door.

“Sorry boys,” Kat said once Saint had yanked it open. “But Night has some visitors over at the clubhouse and according to my husband they’ve brought a present for him.”

“It’s not my birthday,” Night muttered sleepily.

Snickering, Sinn rubbed circles on his abs. “So when is?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Oh now this I have to hear,” Kat replied, footsteps approaching, then the bed bounced and Night let out a small eep and clutched the blanket and Sinn to his chest.

“Halloween, okay,” Night blurted. “Now please get off the bed Miss Kat before your husband shows up and guts me.”

Giggling, Kat patted Sinn’s leg, probably thinking it was Night’s. “Well, a surefire way to bring him up here would to not put in an appearance at the clubhouse.”

“Uggg,” Night grumbled, but at least he started moving, which forced Sinn to sit up too.

“Why didn’t someone tell me he had a Tasmanian devil tattooed on his ass.”

Saint snickered, the low light reducing him to a shadow crossing the room to hunt for his clothes. “You should see where he’s got the road runner.”

“Nope, no way, I’m not getting killed today,” Night replied as he fumbled around, half twisting beneath Sinn before he yanked his pants onto the bed, dragging them over Sinn’s shoulder as he attempted to shove them beneath the sheets and pull them on.

“I’ll be sure to snap a picture,” Saint teased, making Night groan, then let out a hiss when wiggling around irritated one of his injuries.

“Alright, alright, I’ve had my fun,” Kat said, the bed shifting a bit as she stood up again. “I’ll tell my husband you’re on your way down…then I think I’ll head to the kitchen and see if we’ve still got any of those Loony Tune cookie cutters left from when the kids were little.”

“Hey, didn’t you have a Tasmanian devil cake pan too?” Saint asked.

“Ohh, you know what, you’re right,” Kat replied, the sound of her retreating footsteps an indication that she’d finally left.

“Why!” Night grumbled, finally willing to let go of the sheet so he could dress properly.

“’Cause it made my day to see you blushing at the thought of Kat seeing what only we get to touch.”

“Uggggg,” Night groaned, while Sinn finally started dressing in the clothes Saint dumped in his lap. “At this point, I almost hope this present is ticking.”

“Hate to break it to ya, but it would never make it past the gate if it was,” Saint said.

Less than three minutes later they were heading down to the club, Night moving a bit stiffly but far steadier than when he’d arrived back from visiting his family. Was good to feel and as much as Sinn wished they could lock themselves in Saint’s bedroom for at least another week, he missed the garage about as much as Night was missing the kitchen, and he knew Saint had been working on things on his phone when he’d thought his two boys were sleeping. He’d caught Night on his phone last night too, probably working up menus for the bar, if his muttering about onions, red basil, garlic aioli and po’-boy sandwiches, interspaced with curses about pricing, was any indication.

While Night had been gone, Sinn overheard several members of the crew admit to not feeling like bloated sacks of shit after they’d finished eating the meals Night cooked, and there had been talk about takeout containers, something he knew Night would be proud of once he found out. Sinn hadn’t brought it up to him yet, not with how desperate he was to return to work as it was. He’d have tried slipping away from bed in the middle of the night which might not have been a bad thing considering it would have given Sinn and Saint reason to tie his hands to the headboard and have fun with him.

“Note to self, order silk ropes,” Sinn muttered.

“Don’t need to order them, the dungeon is fully stocked,” Saint remarked as he opened the door to the clubhouse for them.

It always took Sinn’s eyes an extra-long time to adjust from the brightness of outside to the dimness inside the building where shadows were less defined around the edges and more like drifting blobs. Giant drifting blobs when one of them started approaching.

“Holy shit! Haze? What the hell man, I thought you guys headed south,” Night declared, cluing Sinn in that it was his brother.

“We are. Had to go back and take care of something first,” Haze said, stopping in front of them. The shape of the item Haze held out to Night was a dead giveaway of what it was. “Uncle Jim won’t be blowing up our phones any longer.”

“You…you didn’t…”

“Naaa, I thought about it but in the end he wasn’t worth catching additional charges over if they ever do catch up to me.”

Night’s voice was thick with emotion when he spoke. “Haze…man, I don’t know how to thank you, but why’d you risk it?”

“The way you talked about these guys,” Haze admitted. “You made them sound like the family we always wanted.”

“But…how’d you know I’d still be here when you knew I was just comin’ back to tell them Unc had my kutte?”

“Give it here,” Mark said, his shadow having joined the others.

Night handed it over immediately, though Sinn could feel the slightest quiver in his body from where Sinn stood pressed up against him.

“You can have it back as soon as I take the prospect patch off and Kat sews your top rocker on.”

“Wh…”

Cheers went up around them, while Night stood frozen. Pride surged through Sinn at the knowledge that Night had just been acknowledged as a fully patched member of the club.

“As for how I knew,” Haze said once the cheering died down and he’d reached out to settle a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “That’s easy. If they were everything you claimed they were, then no way were they kicking you out for losing that vest, not after what you forced Unc to do to you to get it, which never would have happened if I had been there. We should have hit the road the moment the funeral was over. Hell, we never should have gone in the first place. Should have known it was a set up. Bobby told me that Aunt Almira had been sick for months. Wouldn’t surprise me any if Unc put her out of her misery as a means of assembling us all.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me either.”

“Bobby and I need to get rolling,” Haze declared.

“Yeah, I get it, but let me introduce my partners first.” Night said, giving Sinn a little squeeze. “This is Sinn, the amazing bike builder I was telling you about. And the menacing one is Saint, our club’s vice president. You don’t have to worry about looking out for me anymore big brother. These guys all have my back.”

Several voices around them chimed in the affirmative.

“I’ll always worry, you should know that by now,” Haze said. “But it seems to me that these guys are better for you than our kinfolk have ever been. You’ll hear from me when the heat dies down, I promise you. Just look for a return address from Mexico, that’s where we’ll be.”

“Wait,” Sinn said. “If you’re heading south I’ve got a safe haven for you. Folks down there are my family, but even more than that, they owe me a major solid after some of the shit they pulled recently. Let me make a call.”

Stepping away, Sinn pulled the phone from his back pocket, and hit the button to trigger the mic. “Call the lioness.”

Several chuckles broke out around them, while Night just shook his head.

“Does he seriously refer to his mother as The Lioness?” Haze asked.

“If you find that surprising, you’re gonna love this. In his phone, his grandfather is listed as the old buzzard and his pops is grouchy bear,” Night explained. “Those folks down there are so paranoid they won’t write a name on anything.”

“Damn. And he really thinks they’ll help?” Haze said.

“Oh, they’ll help if they want to keep on hearing from me,” Sinn said.

As the conversation played out, Night once again focused on his brother. “I’m blown away by all this. Do you want a beer?”

“Fuck man, I’d love one.”

At the bar, Bellamy cracked a couple cold ones for them, and they clanked the necks together before guzzling them down.

“You did good for yourself, kid,” Haze said. “I’m proud of you.”

“It’s a good feeling, knowing I can earn honest and do something I enjoy,” Night admitted.

“I bet. You look happy. I haven’t seen you look that way since we were kids. Sometimes I wish you, me and Bobby would have run away to the city. If I could have figured out a way to provide for us that wouldn’t have landed me in jail and you two in foster homes, or worst, sent back home, I’d have done it in a heartbeat.”

“We can’t look back, we can only move forward,” Night said.

“Amen to that,” Haze replied.

“Alright, it’s all set,” Sinn said several minutes later, before passing his phone to Haze. “Put your contact info in that as Purple Haze, and I’ll send you the GPS coordinates to the Crossroads and contact information for the Buzzard. He’ll meet you there and lead you the rest of the way. They’ll get you over the border without any issues.”

“Thanks man.”

“Glad I could help,” Sinn said.

Night hugged his brother, then Haze shook hands with Saint and Mark, took one last look around, then took his leave, the rumble of an old truck sounding a few minutes later as Haze and Sinn was guessing Bobby, drove away from the gate.

“Looks like we can keep our asses here for the time being,” Mark said. “I love it when shit works out without getting bloody.”

“Considering how bloody things have been lately, for once I’d have to agree,” Creature said from the other side of him. “Want me to run his kutte up to the house?”

“Naa, I’ll take it. It’s been a few hours since I’ve seen my queen and if the place if empty, I’m going to have some fun pinning her to whatever surface she’s nearest too.”

“And the walls, chairs and anything else that can support your weight,” Saint muttered.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Mark said, sounding happy. “Someone get Night a drink and don’t let him behind the bar to start cooking for everyone. We’ll fire up the grills in a few hours and get them filled. It’s family time, so get everyone down here to help celebrate.”

Another round of cheers went up while Night slid an arm back around Sinn and Saint squished both of them into a tight, bone crushing hug.

“Told you there was nothing to worry about,” Saint murmured as he held them. “Good times or bad, Jokers have always believed in family. Now sit and enjoy a few drinks while I go pick up Dalton. He’ll want to be here for this and give the traditional toast for a newly patched member. You’ll get a kick out of it, trust me. It’s a doozy.”