Chapter 2
Saint
Fuck, I’m hungover.
I cracked an eye open and groaned. My head ached like a bitch and I felt queasy. I’d spent last night at Carrefore since I’d had too much to drink. My house was only ten minutes from the place, but I’d been too far gone to even walk home.
My stomach did summersaults when I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and I clutched my sides as a fresh wave of nausea hit me.
Am I getting too old for this shit? Probably.
I’d just turned 30 and I clearly couldn’t party like I used to. Back in the day, I could stay out all night, go to work, and then do it all over again. Not anymore.
I felt like somebody had stomped my ass into the ground.
There was a knock on the door before it swung open. Nettie stood in the doorway, holding a steaming hot cup of coffee.
“Get out of bed, lazy bones.” Her tone was gruff but affectionate.
“Good mornin’ to you, too, Miss Nettie.”
Nettie was the club matriarch. We all loved her, like a second momma and we’d do anything for her. Although, since my own mother ran out on me, she’s the only one I’ve ever known.
“That for me?” I nodded to the cup.
“Oui. Here, drink this.” She handed me two aspirin as well.
“Thank you,” I said gratefully.
“Like brother, like sister,” she muttered.
“Did Maya shack up with some random guy last night?” I gulped two pills down and took a swig of coffee. I was already feeling marginally better.
She lifted a shoulder, which could mean anything.
My fingers curled into fists. “Tell me.”
Maya approached sex like a man, shacking up with any warm body who crossed her path. I’d warned my brothers off her, but I didn’t have any sway over the locals. I’d even punched a few of them out, but the fuckers kept lining up. And I couldn’t take on the whole damn town, not without the sheriff poking his nose in where it didn’t belong.
“I’m not in the habit of breakin’ confidences.”
Honestly, that girl is a handful. Our folks were gone, which meant she was my responsibility now. Not that Maya respected my opinion. Or anyone else’s, for that matter.
“Feelin’ better?” Nettie asked, changing the subject.
“A bit, but I still feel like my Harley rolled over me.” My black Harley Davidson V-Rod was my prized possession.
In response, she touched two fingers to my forehead, softly murmuring and suddenly my stomach settled.
Weird. “How did you do that?”
“Voodoo.” She gave me a cocky smile.
Now, I ain’t saying I’m a believer in the paranormal, but I’ve seen Nettie do some mighty strange things. Strange, but effective. One thing’s for damn sure, I’m never gonna cross her.
“You didn’t take a woman to bed last night?” She surveyed the room, as though she’d somehow overlooked a chick.
I frowned. “Too drunk.”
We had a lot of hangers-on, guys who believed it made them marginally cooler to drink at a biker bar and a lot of girls who loved the bad boys. I’ve helped myself to quite a few of them over the years. We call them succubi, keeping with the demon theme. A succubus is a female demon who seduces men and let’s just say, the description is fitting.
“One of these days, you're gonna need a woman for more than sex.”
“I do need a woman for more.” I lifted the mug. “You make damn fine coffee. The best in the parish.”
“Lord help me.” She rolled her eyes skyward as if I’d gotten on her last nerve.
“What? I’m professin’ my ever-lastin’ devotion over here.”
“Don't even think about flirtin’ with me, Saint, or I’ll hex you.” She pointed a finger at me in warning.
When I was a teenager, I’d heard she could make your cock shrivel up and fall off like a baby’s umbilical cord with a few choice words.
So far, she’d had mercy on me, and I didn’t want to rile her up.
“I know better, Miss Nettie, just makin’ an observation.”
Besides, Henri would peel the skin off my hide with a rusty, old pocketknife if he thought I was actually coming onto his old lady. It was one of the top ten club rules, right after paying tribute to Papa Legba. I left him cigars every week since he was supposedly fond of them and I offered rum infused with gunpowder for Kalfou, so he’d leave me the fuck alone. It was more of a bribe than a tribute.
“Get out of bed.” She headed to the door. “Echo called and said he’s headed over.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I lumbered down the hall to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. After I splashed water on my face, used some deodorant from the medicine cabinet and brushed my teeth with my finger, I felt almost human again.
When I got downstairs, Echo was walking in the door.
“Mornin’ Saint,” he called.
“Mornin’.” How the fuck did he know it was me?
Echo had his cane out, tapping it back and forth along the floor. He was legally blind now, but back in the day, Echo had been a Navy SEAL, serving in both Afghanistan and Iraq.
Echo had a shock of brown hair, tan skin, and his eyes used to be blue. Now, he wore a pair of shades to shield them. I hadn’t seen him without the glasses on since the accident. He was tall, an inch or two above six feet and fit. The man might be blind, but he was still lethal—muscular, without an ounce of fat on him, and he didn’t need two good eyes to be dangerous.
“Where’s Cocoa?” I asked. Cocoa was his service dog, a chocolate Labrador retriever.
“At the groomers. I dropped her off on my way over here.”
Echo knew every single square inch of this town. It had taken him the better part of a year to memorize it, but he knew exactly where he was standing at any given moment. He owned a repair shop. Echo could fix anything from a computer to a washing machine, which was amazing, considering he had to feel the parts instead of seeing them.
Echo pulled up a chair and I sat beside him. One of the succubi brought him a couple of scrambled eggs and toast, his standard breakfast order. I don’t remember her name. She was a pretty brunette with great legs. The woman looked at me expectantly, but I shook my head. With a wink, she sidled back behind the bar.
Echo sniffed the air. “You aren’t eatin’?”
“No, I’ve got a hangover,” I was doing pretty well managing the cup of coffee and I didn’t want to press it any further.
“You’ve gotta lay off the booze man, or they’re gonna bump your rank, too.”
Echo was also a member of the club, but a provisional one, since he couldn’t ride, meaning he couldn’t be a club officer. Our bylaws were pretty strict about spending time on a Harley. He’d been a prospect before he went to Iraq and Henri had patched him in when he came home, regardless. Lucky for us, he had other talents which the club desperately needed.
“Yeah, I know.” Lately, I’d been drifting, drowning myself in pussy and alcohol. Ever since my dad died, I’ve felt a little lost.
I’m a club member and I work as a longshoreman, loading ships. Somehow, it wasn’t enough for me anymore. I’d wanted to make something of myself, make my life mean something.
Yet, here I am, wasting my days and nights.
It sounded crazy, but I wondered about having a family of my own, settling down with a good woman like Nettie. Only younger. And less scary. It was an insane notion, since I fucked women, but I never dated them. Ever.
“Check it out. I picked this up from post office box this mornin’.”
I blinked, pulled from my thoughts. Echo shoved a package into my hands. It was wide and thin, ripped open on one side. Inside, was a Doors album, L.A. Woman. And I meant album, not C.D. Echo is an audiophile and a classic rock fanatic and he’s almost religious about vinyl.
“Nice choice.”
“I can’t wait to give it a listen.”
“You know, you could’ve bought it on Amazon with one click. And it would’ve been the digitally remastered version.” Yeah, what can I say? I felt like pokin’ the bear. It’s fun to piss him off.
He made a disgusted noise as if I had no taste, whatsoever.
“You don’t deserve to touch this.” Echo snatched it back from me and lovingly ran his hands over the cover.
“Digital music sounds better.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His face scrunched up like a raisin. “It’s synthetic. Real music is dirty. You can really dig into the sound, hear the flaws—all the scratches and pops.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of a freak, brother.” We all called one another brother, because the Demons were family. They’ve always got my back, and I have theirs.
Echo spoke quietly. “The way I figure it, I lost my eyes, and my ears deserve a treat. After all, I don’t get to look at beautiful women anymore. I can’t appreciate art, watch television.”
And now, I felt like an ass. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t. I’m just statin’ a fact is all.” Echo had every right to be bitter, but he wasn’t. He’d taken his misfortune in stride.
“Hey, baby.”
I glanced up to see Roxy Devereux, a succubus. Roxy was a nice enough girl, not the kind you’d bring home to momma though. Assuming I had one, of course.
She wore a tight pair of Daisy Dukes and a halter top. She was a bottle blonde with big tits and a generous ass. And I should know, I’d smacked it many times.
“Well, hey there, darlin’.” I gave her my most seductive smile. It would put Joey’s “How you doin’?” routine to shame. Yeah, I’m a Friends fan.
Echo snickered.
“What are you doin’ tonight?” she asked, running her hand up and down my arm seductively. Her long nails were fire-engine red. I still had some scratches on my back from the last time we fucked.
My body started to stir, despite myself. I have a high sex drive and going without, even for one day, was too much. She was a lot of fun—talented mouth, wild, uninhibited. We always had a good time together. Best of all, it was casual, just the way I liked it.
“Sorry, darlin’, but I’ve got some club business to take care of.”
We were in the smuggling business, to be exact. Most of the brothers worked on the shore, loading up cargo. Now and then, we got paid a shitload of cash to add a little something extra in the cargo hold.
“That’s too bad.” Her lower lip poked out, settling into a pout. “Maybe another time?”
“Count on it. Actually, why don’t you swing by my place tomorrow night, after I get off work? Just you and me? We’ll get into some trouble.”
“Sure thing, baby, see you then.” She leaned over and kissed me. I slapped her ass and she strutted off with a squeal of delight.
Nettie gave me the stink eye from behind the bar. Or was it the evil eye? I can’t really tell with her.
“Damn, you’re like the town bicycle, everybody’s had a ride.” Echo’s lip curled in revulsion. “Do you have to nail everythin’ that moves?”
I smirked. “I do, actually.”
Little did I know, that was all about to change.