Chapter 4

(Saint)

Scutpuppy

The dawn of another day without a god damned clue about what happened to Sinn was more than enough to piss him off, but stepping out of yet another warehouse with little besides pissed off bats and dust bunnies was driving him out of his god damned mind. Factory row was a bust, his brother needed to accept that shit and move on. Mark could bullshit with the crew if he wanted, but if Saint had to keep hearing it, he was gonna punch his fuckin’ brother in the mouth.

He paused that thought when he noticed three riders surrounding a pair of winos who’d given them good tips in the past. While the others lagged back, Night was the only one to keep up with him. On several occasions since Sinn had gone missing, the prospect had snapped back at someone so hard that Saint had to pause and look down at himself to make certain they hadn’t switched rolls.

Nope, still the VP.

He got what was up with the other man though, it was the same slapshot smack of emotions Saint had been dealing with. The underlaying current of desire that crackled between Night and Sinn hadn’t gone unnoticed by him, not that Sinn had ever tried to hide it. His boy had fully admitted to baiting the big prospect in the hopes of luring him to their bed. Now, Saint refused to consider any reality where that didn’t happen.

The trio parted when he approached, Wreck gesturing to Ben and Daniel. “Hey, these guys have some interesting intel.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Was just telling this one here that we’ve seen a black van come through here a couple times. Thought it was lost the first time, then they kept on coming back. They head off towards the old candle place, stay a couple hours, then roar out spittin’ gravel on their way back through.”

“You ever see this man with them?” Saint asked as he pulled out his phone and the photo of Sinn he’d made his lockscreen.

Both peered squinty eyed at the photo, cocked their heads and scrunched their noses. Daniel took a swig, then shook his head.

“Nope. Ain’t seen him.”

“You ever see them with anyone in that van that didn’t seem like they wanted to be there?” Saint asked.

This time both shook their heads.

“Woulda called someone ifn’ we’d seen something like that,” Ben said. “Don’t need the cops comin’ round more than they already do. We ain’t bothering nuthin, we’re just sitting here bullshittin’ with a buncha bottles. Would figure they’d have better to do than roust us every other night, but naaa, they’re always out here.”

“Couple guys on big ‘ol bikes like yours have been through here a few times, some other cars too and a pickup truck once.” Daniel said. “The guys from the van wheel a bunch of shit into the building, then drag it out a few hours later. They go away for a couple days before they come back and do it again. Those other ones leave before the van and never show up until after it’s gotten here. None of them looked like the guy in your picture though.”

“Either of you get curious enough to take a peek at what they’re doing inside?” Saint asked.

“Tried to once, but this mean ‘ol bastard with a scarred-up face lit after us and we skedaddled ‘til they was gone.”

“You went back though, didn’t you?” Mark asked from somewhere to Saint’s left.

Ben whistled low, his bloodshot eyes brightening a bit. “First time in years I’ve slept on a bed that soft. Had four good nights of sleep before they showed up again. Next time we went back there was a note on the door saying how they was gonna torch us if they caught us. Ain’t been near the place since.”

“We passed the word along so folks would know to steer clear,” Daniel added. “Didn’t tell ‘em about the beds either, so they wouldn’t be tempted to try and get in.”

“Them guys on the bikes have patches like these ones?” Saint asked, pointing to the Joker on the back of his kutte.

“Scarred guy had a patch but it wasn’t that one, his had this old three headed dog on it spittin’ fire and standin’ on a mountain of skulls and bones,” Ben said before he took a swig from the bottle Daniel passed him.

“And the other?” Saint asked.

Daniel shook his head. “He had a vest but no patches. Machine he was ridin’ looked like it was made up of all mismatched parts and too big for ‘em to boot. Was a pretty one, whichever he was, but didn’t no one make ‘em go in there. He just went on in on ‘is own.”

“Yeah, and what did that pretty one look like?” Mark asked.

“Blond, I think. Least at the ends. Rest was covered up by one of them dew rags. Didn’t get a close enough look to see much else, but he went walkin’ in beside the big one with the scars. Looked enough alike that they coulda been kin.”

“More like behind him,” Ben interrupted. “He was kickin’ rocks, remember, and that mean one gave him a look. Pretty one flipped him off but he did as he was told. That big one didn’t have to say nuthin’, either.”

“The look was enough to get the pretty one duckin’ his head like a scolded puppy,” Daniel said.

“What else was in there besides the bed?” Saint asked.

“Desks and a buncha stands. They got lights mounted up in the corners of the room too. Power and everything works in there. Bright as hell. About blinded me when I turned ‘em on.”

“Big? You mean like spotlights?”

“Thems the lights.”

Saint glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with his brother. “Holden say anything about there being two buildings?”

“Not a word, but that doesn’t mean I won’t wake him back up and check.”

Saint turned back towards Daniel and Ben and gestured to the LMX studio they’d searched hours before. “Ever seen those guys go in there?”

“One guy we seen go in both. Don’t know who he is though,” Daniel said. “He’s always got dark shades on.”

“Always in the van too,” Ben said. “Ain’t never seen him come around in anything else. If the van don’t come though, no one heads out to the old candle place, but at this building here people been comin’ and goin’ all the time.”

“Alright, thanks. You think of anything else, you call this number,” Saint said as he scrawled his digits on the back of two of the cards from the tattoo shop. “And here’s something for you guys. Good lookin’ out. You hear about anything else, or see the man in that picture, you reach out. There’ll be a lot more green in your future.”

He handed each a card and a couple twenties and watched as they ambled away, passing the bottle between them.

“Two buildings,” Mark said when he got off the phone with Holden. “Candle shop is supposed to be storage though.”

“Fuck, why didn’t he share that the first time!” Saint snapped. “We’ve wasted enough time out here. We need to regroup and come up with a better plan ‘cause this is a dead end.”

Snarling, he stalked back to his bike, fired her up and roared back to the clubhouse to regroup and have a drink or three before the others returned, though he should have expected Night to be fast on his heels. He hadn’t made it halfway to the door before he heard Night parking, only instead of the man’s bootheels crunching over the gravel behind him, he heard a blaring ringtone and Night’s snarled what when he finally answered it.

It pissed Saint off that Night took the call. Hell, it was pissing Saint off whenever anyone did anything that wasn’t directly connected to finding Sinn. Instead of snapping at the man, he slammed the door behind him when he entered the club, then kicked it for good measure when it didn’t stay shut. That didn’t work either, and he could see why when he took a closer look at the bolt and realized he’d left it in the lock position when he’d pulled out his keys.

Son of a bitch, couldn’t anything work around here the way it was supposed to?

The last thing he expected was to see Teddy behind the bar with his clipboard like it was just another inventory day. He took several steps back when Saint reached over the bar for the bottle of Tequila he kept stashed there, only to discover it missing.

“Mark’s orders,” Teddy said with enough of a smirk that it snapped the final thread of Saint’s control. He lunged for the man only to have Teddy nimbly leap out of range, turn, and bolt out the back door, but not before the clipboard clattered to the floor, along with Teddy’s phone and one of the bottles, which promptly exploded everywhere.

Saint pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly counted down from twenty, knowing exactly why that bottle was gone. Unlike with other folks, Tequila had never left him loose and eager to get naked. It was his go to drink when he was pissed off and spoiling for a fight. At this point, he was so on edge that a knock down drag out might be just the thing to get him to settle down and focus, but Teddy wouldn’t have been a challenge even if he was able to catch up to the man and Night…well, the thought of striking the prospect out of anger gave him pause.

Fucking him over the bar though, now that idea had merit. Saint was just about to head back outside and demand that Night get his ass inside, when Teddy’s phone blipped from where it lay in a puddle of whiskey, and Saint cocked his head, frowning at the text message that appeared on the screen.

The sender was someone named Junkyard Whore, but that wasn’t what held his attention. It was the message that gave him pause. Saint nearly landed headfirst in the mess of glass and whiskey when he lunged for the thing, managing to grasp it before the screen went blank, but by the time he hauled himself back over the bar, the lock screen was engaged, leaving him with only the little bit he’d seen.

Just bite the bullet and do what you need to do before people start getting pissed about you playing with them.

With no idea what those words were in reference to, all Saint could do was fume and slam the phone on the bar.

“What happened?”

Snarling, Saint turned to see that Night had finally managed to tear himself away from his phone.

“Does it fuckin’ matter,” Saint snarled. “Just clean that shit up and keep your mouth shut until I’m ready to shove my cock in it.”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Night muttered, even as he turned to get the broom.

Before he could take a step, Saint grabbed his arm, yanking until Night turned back around to face him.

“You’re right,” Saint growled, cock already beginning to thicken. If he couldn’t engage in a tequila-fueled brawl to ease his nerves than having his dick sucked would be the next best thing. “On your knees, prospect.”

Night’s eyes widened a fraction even as he dropped to the floor, hands on his thighs, bringing his lips level with Saint’s crotch.

“Unzip me with your teeth,” Saint demanded, even as his fingers slid through the warm, silky strands of Night’s hair.

Not only did Night manage to unzip him with ease, but he popped the button with his teeth as well, then went still and waited with perfect obedience for the next command.

Instead of barking it at him like he longed to do, Saint blew out a long breath while reminding himself that this was the man he and Sinn hoped to bring into their relationship. It wouldn’t do to treat him like a whore.

Petting Night’s hair was starting to chill him out and ease his temper down a few notches. It gave him a touchstone to channel his focus, as did that warm whiskey-hued gaze he peered down into.

“Thank you for this,” Saint murmured. “My head is in a bad place and every thought I’ve had lately is about hurting someone. Give me something else to think about.”

“Yes, sir,” Night replied, pink tongue flicking out to lick his lips even as he slid his hands up Saint’s thighs before freeing his cock from his boxers.

When Night rubbed his cheek over Saint’s erection in a soft nuzzle, Saint almost ordered him to just get on with it, only Night’s tongue followed, down one side and up the other, eyes going heavy lidded by the time he swirled his tongue around the head of Saint’s dick. By then, all thoughts of making demands fled as the tension started melting from his shoulders and the blinding haze of rage cooled to a low simmer.

When that wet mouth engulfed him, Saint let out a low rumble of pleasure. The slow drag of lips and tongue coupled with rhythmic humming soon had him melting against the bar, pleasure snaking down his spine when Night got his hand involved, creating a wet vice of motion up and down Saint’s shaft.

The man knew how to give an earth-shattering blow job, not only paying attention to Saint’s cock but rolling his balls around in his other hand in a lazy rhythm that soon had Saint throwing his head back and gasping up at the rafters. He was aware that his petting was getting a little rough, but each time he tugged at the strands, Night let out a grown of pleasure that vibrated around Saint’s dick. Even when he gripped Night’s hair in his fists and started tugging, Night responded to his urgency by upping the pace until Saint was fucking his face, saliva dripping down Night’s chin until everything was so slippery, it was like fucking a wet, sloppy hole.

Between Night’s continued massage of Saint’s scrotum and the constant mix of groans and hums, it didn’t take long for Saint to spill, his eyes rolling back as his orgasm held his body it a tight grasp of pleasure as Night kept sucking until he’d swallowed all he could wring from Saint.

Gooddidn’t begin to describe how Saint felt by the time he opened his eyes, and hot was too small a word to define the way Night looked as he licked a dribble of cum from the corner of his lips.

“Damn boy, you have got one hell of a talented mouth,” Saint hissed as he focused on easing his fingers out of Night’s hair. “I look forward to learning what else you’re talented at.”

The smirk Night flashed him was sinful and Saint was hit with the sudden urge to taste himself on Night’s lips. Hauling Night up, he crushed their mouths together, licking inside and loving the way Night opened without hesitation and eagerly kissed him back. Low groans began to spill from him. When Saint shoved a hand between them to rub over the front of Night’s jeans, it was apparent how aroused he was.

“F-fuck…” Night whined, making Saint’s cock twitch and try to perk up again.

“Oh yeah, gonna pin you against this bar and fuck you stupid,” Saint growled before deepening the kiss.

He had two fingers through one of Night’s beltloops and was grinding their bodies together when the door crashed open, and all thoughts of fucking Night vanished. Growling, Saint turned Night loose, his bootheel crunching glass when he stepped away from the prospect.

“I’ll get this cleaned up,” Night panted while Saint tucked himself back in his jeans and fastened them before looking around for Teddy’s phone, which he shoved at his brother the moment he spotted Mark.

“I hope you can open this damned thing because your boy has gotten himself into some shit and it better not have anything to do with Sinn.”

“I don’t know his lock code.”

“Fuck!”

“Where is he that you have his phone?”

“Tore off out of here after telling me you hijacked my Tequila.”

“All the tequila is banished until this issue is resolved,” Mark declared, “and before you ask, it’s non-negotiable. We’ve got enough to deal with without you tryin’ to get bloody.”

“Then get his ass back here so he can open it.”

“Already on it,” Mark replied as he tapped away on his phone, likely sending a message to Kat up at the house where Teddy had probably fled.

To Saint’s way of thinking, it took far longer than it should have for Teddy to make an appearance and cast a cautious glance between Mark and Saint.

“Open your phone,” Mark barked before Teddy could say anything.

“Why?”

“Because I’m telling you to.”

For a moment, it looked like Teddy was going to refuse to take the phone, let alone comply with the order. It was all taking too long. Saint snarled, moments away from lunging for the man again, when Teddy finally held his hand out for the device, then punched in the code once he had it back in his possession. Mark didn’t give him time to do anything else with it before snatching it back.

“Okay, what am I looking for,” Mark asked.

“Text message telling him to bite the bullet and do what he knew he needed to do before people started getting pissed, which I’m beyond right now.”

“Oh my god are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Teddy squawked, reaching for the phone only to have Mark shut that down with a glare.

Instead of saying anything to either of them, he scrolled the thread, frowning as he read through the messages.

“Who is Junkyard Whore?”

“A contact from the Harley enthusiasts’ site,” Teddy replied. “He’s whose been trying to help me locate some of the parts you’re desperate for.”

“Yeah, I saw the texts you sent with the makes and models, but these last few messages read like you’re talking in code. What’s he talking about in his last message?”

“Me needing to road trip out to the scrapyard he’s been telling me about,” Teddy admitted, squirming a bit as he answered, which was a surefire sign he was holding something back.

Mark noticed too and leveled his gaze at Teddy who squirmed a little more.

“You know I don’t know bike parts the way you guys do,” Teddy hissed. “I don’t know why you gave me this project in the first place.”

“To see how you’d handle it,” Mark snapped. “So far, you’re failing and we all know why. How long as he been telling you to hit up that scrapyard?”

Teddy’s shrug clearly pissed Mark off as much as it did Saint. His older brother slammed his hand down on the bar, words coming out clipped and growly.

“How. Long.”

“Two weeks, okay!”

“And you haven’t mentioned it because if you did you knew we’d make you take Sinn along to help.”

“There’s over a dozen guys you could send!” Teddy grumbled. “The only reason you keep choosing him is to piss me off.”

“No,” Mark said, his voice growing cold again. “I chose him because he’s the best man for the job and I hoped you’d be able to learn something. Clearly, I was wrong. The only thing you’ve learned lately is how to be a fuckin’ brat. Send me the info on the scrapyard, I’ll take care of it from here. Consider yourself removed from the project.”

“Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me for that,” Mark said. “I can’t tell you how disappointed I am to have to do it. The only thing that’s more disappointing is learning that I can’t rely on you the way I always have.”

“You could if you’d just…”

“There is no just, Teddy, there is only the instructions I gave you and your inability to follow them,” Mark declared. “When I decide what the punishment for that will be I’ll let you know.”

“Punish…how is that even…”

“Teddy,” Mark said, his voice hollow. “You’re making it worse.”

Saint felt a sick sense of satisfaction at seeing Teddy’s face fall before he hurried from the room with his head down and his phone clutched in his hand.

“Think he’s telling the truth?” Saint asked once Teddy was out of earshot.

“I don’t know,” Mark admitted before pouring them each a glass of bourbon. “I just don’t know.”