Softness is not weakness. It takes courage

to stay delicate in a world this cruel.

- Beau Taplin

I’m sitting at the picnic table out back soaking up some sunshine and sipping on lemonade when a gorgeous woman approaches me. She’s nothing like the skanky looking females I’ve noticed scattered around the club who hang on a few of Saint and Sinner’s brothers. Her hair’s in a ponytail; it’s blonde and reaches the top of her butt. She wears a perfect smile as she gets closer, and I take in her short, black leather shorts, white wife-beater tank top, and matching white Chucks.

“Hey,” she greets and sits across from me. “You must be Jude.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I nod and smile in return. Me calling her ma’am brings out a giggle in return.

“Please, the last ma’am was my mom. I’m Princess.”

“Your name is Princess, or do you get a nickname like everyone else?” Does she ride a motorcycle too? She looks like a different type of woman compared to the other females around here, and I wouldn’t put it past her owning her own bike.

“No, my name is actually Princess. The only nickname anyone here has given me is the Ice Queen and Cinderella.” She turns, throwing a thumb toward the back of her shirt, wanting me to read it.

“Viking’s Property?” I read aloud, the words coming out as a question and she faces me again with a nod. She’s pleased about it, obviously.

“Yep, that’s my ol’ man.”

“Wait, the big, Nordic looking guy who slammed Saint on the hood yesterday?”

She snickers. “That sounds like him, so I’m going to go with yes. He’s my husband and the President of the club.”

“Oh wow, how does he not scare you? The guy is massive.” My honesty pours from my lips, not used to censoring what I have to say around others.

She sighs, her eyes growing all dreamy. “I think it’s hot. He goes all barbarian on me sometimes, and I love it.”

I can understand, the bad boy vibe is definitely alluring. I have it myself for both Saint and Sinner, and I suppose they come off as frightening to some people as well.

“So, are you here with Saint, then, or Sinner? My ol’ man wasn’t sure which one when he gave me the CliffsNotes version of you.”

“Well, Saint drove me here, but then Sinner made me sleep in his bed, so...” I shrug, not having a clue how to answer her the correct way. I probably sound like a whore admitting I’m kind of here for them both.

Her smile brightens again, flashing straight white teeth, “They’ve never brought anyone home before,” she divulges. “I was curious about you.” She scans over me from my hair down to my lemonade. “You’re a bit young for them from what I’ve heard, but you’re also blunt. I like that.”

Shrugging, I take another drink. I’ve never been any other way. I’m glad to finally meet someone around here that seems to be friendly. The guys haven’t spoken to me much, and the skanky chicks just frown my way.

“Oh!” She reaches around pulling something free from her back pocket. She holds up a pair of black flip flops. “These are for you. I almost forgot. Viking said you didn’t have shoes with you.”

“Thank you so much. I’ve been wearing a pair of socks, but it’s felt kind of awkward. Maybe that’s why the women around here have been so blatantly scowling each time I walk by.”

“No, sweetie, those bitches are just jealous. That’s why they’re rude and give you dirty looks. You possess something they desire and can’t get, so you have to put them in their place right away.”

“What could I have? They’re surrounded by guys! And besides, I’m just me.” I point to myself and make a goofy face.

“Yeah. However, you just showed up with not one of the brothers, but two. Members are dropping like flies around here, coming home with ol’ ladies. When that happens, the club sluts are less and less needed around here, and they become more possessive in return. I look forward to the day that the majority of the members have a steady woman in their lives.”

“Club sluts?”

“Yep, the hoes trying to land on the back of a brother’s bike, and in your case, the hateful stares you’ve been receiving.”

“That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think?”

“No. In fact, you’ll learn quickly that they don’t give two shits about you at all. They want your man, and they’ll do what they can to replace you. If I remember correctly there’s one here that has had her eyes set on Saint and Sinner.”

“Lovely.”

She sighs and continues. “I try not to pay too much attention to which chicks they’re sleeping around with and just concentrate on Viking. He keeps me plenty busy.”

“She wants them both?” I don’t know why, but that thought pisses me off. She’s greedy, trying to have two men—the specific I’m here with. I’d have no idea either if it wasn’t for Princess letting me know. The guys never would’ve mentioned it, I’m sure.

She nods. “Keep an eye out for Cherry. You’re young, so she’ll try to push her weight around with you. Just remember she’s irrelevant to the guys, just a piece of easy ass. Honey’s not much better, either.”

What the hell is up with these names? Honey and Cherry? Is there a Blueberry and Syrup running around some place also? Geez, they make my name sound so plain in comparison. Jude, just boring old Jude...

“Wow. I appreciate the heads-up, Princess.”

She grins. “No problem. I’m happy about them going. Less shit I have to deal with. Odin’s bad enough. So, have the boys claimed you yet?”

“I’ll be honest here; I don’t know what you mean.”

“Then it hasn’t happened. Trust me; you’ll know when it does.” She winks and the back door slams open.

The bartender, Blaze, comes outside, huffing with blood spray on his shirt. “Oh, good. Viking was just asking about you.” He pins his gaze on Princess.

“Me? Is he okay?” She’s a lot calmer than I’d be. If someone came searching for me with blood on their shirt, I’d probably freak out.

“He’s fine, it’s...” He quiets, with a sidelong glance in my direction. I’m guessing he can’t say with me sitting here. That’s fine; I have no desire to know their business, especially with blood obviously involved in some way.

“I see. Do you need my help or? Are you the one bleeding, Blaze?”

“Everything’s straight, 2 Piece should be here anytime. This is from Torch, but he’s fine too. Maybe hang out and keep Jude company since we’re busy?”

“Yeah, that’s no problem. Are you going to be behind the bar?”

He shrugs, disappearing with a slam of the massive back door.

“That was weird,” I mutter.

“Guess they’re going to take longer than usual. Want to get a drink? If he’s not in there, I can make us a mean margarita.”

I have no idea what that is, but hopefully, it’s good and doesn’t make me sick in the morning again. “Okay.”

“Bethany, my best friend should be here soon too. She’s dropping her son off with the babysitter so some girl time will be fun.”

“Should we be worried about that guy bleeding?” I gesture toward the closed door.

“Nah,” She waves it off. “They’ll take care of it; that’s what 2 Piece is for. Plus, they don’t like women getting involved with their club business. It’s best if we just make a few pitchers and relax.”

“A few pitchers?” My voice is weary at the amount that implies.

“Hell yeah, lady. I’m telling you, I make ‘em good.” She grins triumphantly and climbs to her feet.

Following suit, I grab my lemonade glass and silently pray that whatever she’s planning on making isn’t too sweet. I was nauseous until I ate with the guys earlier, and I’m not looking forward to that happening again. I hope Bethany’s as friendly as Princess too. I could get used to being around them if they’re both always like this.

“And then, I punched her!” Bethany hoots, nearly falling over on her barstool. She’s funny and outspoken, not like the women I’ve been around at home. They’re boring compared to these two.

I take another gulp of the sweet and tangy concoction as Princess giggles. “It was so great; the scream Honey let out, you’d think she was dying.”

“You actually walked up to the woman and just hit her?” My mouth nearly falls open, and Bethany nods.

“Pretty much, but that was after I laid one hell of a kiss on my man.”

Princess leans forward a bit over the round, counter-height table between us, “I told you, Jude, you have to stake your claim and let these hoes know that you mean business. Once you stand up to them, they wiggle their way back into the cracks they seeped out of.”

“I’m not sure Sinner would be thrilled if I punched someone.” I rationalize. “But Saint probably wouldn’t care.”

“Saint would probably jizz in his pants,” Bethany snorts and then downs half her glass.

“I don’t actually know how to hit someone though,” I admit after a moment, staring down at the black painted table top.

“I can teach you,” Princess offers with a wink and a smile full of mischief.

I don’t know if I’ve stumbled upon trouble or two of the best types of friends I could’ve wished for.

“How long do you think it’s been since the guys went to Church?” I glance around, noticing a few of them in the bar drinking as well. They weren’t here when we first sat down, the place was empty. Princess and Bethany had to school me on the concept of biker church too. I still don’t understand why they call it that, but whatever.

“They should be done soon.” Bethany glances at Princess. “Right, P?”

“It’s been a few hours, so they should be fine by now. I’m sure someone would’ve said something if that wasn’t the case.”

“Jesus, the time has flown by,” I mutter, as Saint finally comes walking toward me. “Oh, Saint! Are you guys all done?”

He flashes a sad smile. “Yeah, baby girl, I think so.”

“So, isn’t that a good thing?” I thought church was where they discussed the important club stuff, or at least that’s what the ol’ ladies told me.

“Not in this case.” He grabs my glass and chugs the rest of my margarita then refills it. “You havin’ a good time with these troublemakers?”

“Yeah, they’re a lot nicer than the other women around here.”

“Yeah. We need to talk.”

“Okay…?”

He grips my arm with one hand and the glass with the other. “Ladies, we’ll be back.” He leans in closer. “Can you walk all right?”

“I feel fine.” I wave him off, climbing down from my seat and attempt to stand.

My hand shoots to the table to steady myself. “Oh my God, those drinks did not seem that strong!”

The girls laugh at me, and Saint tucks me in closer, slipping his arm around my waist. “I got you; let’s go to my room for a bit.”

It takes longer than usual with my wobbly strides, but eventually, we make it. He lets me plop down on his bed, the fluffy mattress a welcome sight.

“Where’s Sinner?”

“He…uh…he’s resting.”

“That sounds so nice right now; maybe we should go to his room instead. We could all take a nap.”

“Not yet.” He shakes his head and sits so close the entire side of my body presses against his. With the alcohol helping me relax, all I can think about is these two finally having their way with me.

“I feel good, Saint. We could get naked like you mentioned earlier.”

A surprised chuckle falls from his lips, and he presses them to my forehead, leaving behind a soft, chaste kiss. “I like you drunk, baby; you’re fun.”

“Why do you call me that?” I mumble, lying back against his fluffy, sangria colored comforter. My shirt rides up, stopping just underneath my breasts and exposing my stomach as I rest my arms above my head.

“Fuck, you’re one sexy bitch,” he growls, crawling farther onto the bed, resting beside me. His fingertip draws a line from the top of my shorts, over my bellybutton and stops at the juncture between my breasts. I hold my breath the entire time, relishing in the sensation.

“Baby girl?” he asks, and I hum in response. “Because you’re the youngest Sinner’s ever had any interest in and hearing you call him daddy, kinda cemented it in place.”

“I like it,” I admit and yawn, the alcohol stupor overtaking my brain.

“Yeah?” His voice grows near as his lips find my neck, licking and nipping like he did before.

“Mmm, I like that too—more than the nickname.”

He chuckles; the sound is raspy against my skin. “I was wondering why he found you interesting, but I think I get it now.” His hand spreads, resting under my breast. It’s enough to make me squirm, wanting him to touch me there. My nipples silently beg for his attention.

“Why?” My voice is breathless with the anticipation.

“Because, baby, you’re perfect for us. You are for both of us.”

“Even you?” I can’t help but repeat. I know he just said it, but my foggy mind needs to hear him say it again. It’ll mean more if he repeats it.

I’ve barely met the man, but I’ve learned so much in a very little time. Sinner cares for him like no other, and he’s special to me...so that means Saint is part of it too. These guys are a packaged deal if I want one. I need to want the other as well.

“Yeah sugar, even me. I was thinking about killin’ ya when I found out about you.”

I find myself sputtering and attempting to sit up with the alcohol causing my head to spin a bit with the quick movement. I don’t get far though as his large hand pushes me backward, flat against the bed. His statement has me reeling, who says stuff like that?

“Calm yourself. I said I was. I don’t want to anymore.” He complains as if it should make me relax. The man was going to freaking murder me!

“B-but your name is Saint! How can you execute someone with that name?”

He snickers to himself over some private joke while pecking my forehead. “So fucking cute, baby.”

Saint shakes his head, charmed with my outburst. “I do what I want. Sin gave me that name a long time ago, but that’s a story for another time. He can tell it if he wants to.”

“Can we go see him now?” Being around Sinner may make my nerves calm down a bit. I have a self-proclaimed assassin beside me right now; I need time to process everything.

He says he won’t hurt me, but can I trust him? He’s acted a bit senseless ever since I met him. I’d chalked it up to him having the bad boy allure. Clearly, my vision was skewed just a touch.

“Not yet.”

“He won’t mind if I wake him up, I promise.”

“We have to let him get up on his own.” He shoots me down.

“Why? I’ve never waited before.” It’s true too; every time he’s visited, I’ve woken him up. Somedays on purpose, others on accident; regardless, he was never upset about it.

“Because he’s been hurt. Now, how about you take a nap or let me get you naked?” His palm skims lower, dipping just under my waistband. It’s distracting, even after his little truth telling session.

There’s the attraction of him informing me that he wanted to kill me. It’s sickening for me to be enticed by a man capable of such things, but for some ungodly reason, it makes me yearn for him even more. I guess I’m being tempted by the forbidden fruit in a sense. The edge and mystery of divulging further into the unknown has me nearly ready to beg him to touch me.

Even through those thoughts, there’s still one thing at the front of my mind. “Saint, I want you, don’t get me wrong,” I admit. I meet his intense gaze and then stop his hand from traveling any lower. “But what happened to Sinner?”

He sulks. “I may have stabbed him.” He comes clean finally with me asking him the direct question, and this time I do sit up in a flash, completely stunned.

My hands go wild slapping all over his chest. It does the opposite though. I want to hurt him, but instead, he chokes out a surprised laugh and catches my hands. He’s stronger than he appears, his grip like a vice. I’m nowhere near a match for him physically.

“Holy shit!” I shriek, and he tackles me, laying over me to keep my body still. I’ve never had someone subdue me like this before.

“Hush up.”

The adrenaline kicks in, sobering me up a bit and I warn him, “I’ll scream, and I’ll kick you in the nuts!”

“And I’ll slit your fuckin’ throat, now shut it,” he promises, his breath skirting over my lips.

I don’t know if it’s the fear or what, but my body vibrates in a way I never imagined possible. He’s dangerous and controlling and nothing like any man I’ve met in the past. None of them had any balls compared to Saint; he truly is the real deal in terms of a bad boy. Clearly, the motorcycle and the I-don’t-give-a-fuck façade is not a front.

Is this why my mother was always chasing after the guys she’d find? Was it the danger or the possibility of the unknown? Was she seeking an adventure like me? After this shaky, insane feeling that courses through your veins in the face of madness? It’s addicting.

A frustrated, girly growl bubbles up, and I shoot forward, biting the shit out of his chin. He’s provoked me to the point of losing control. This isn’t me. I don’t bite people, but Saint...he pushes me, tests my limits.

“Ah!” His eyes widen as the opaque irises darken to a shade resembling graphite. I don’t know what it means, but somehow, I don’t think it’s a good thing. My heart rate spikes, even though you’d think it’s not possible with everything happening so fast already.

He breaks free from my mouth and dips his face. Pain explodes in my shoulder as his teeth tear into my flesh. I let loose a piercing cry, gasping for breath afterward. The only defense I have is to drag my short nails down his biceps and scream.

He rasps a warning against my ear after he releases his bite. “Be careful what you wish for, baby. You give pain, you get pain in return.”

Tears drip down my cheeks as I release my grip and whisper, begging, “Please?”

He draws back a bit, using his thumbs to wipe my cheeks. Saint’s touch is back to being tender, and it confuses me. One thing is for certain; I’m sober now—that’s for damn sure.

My scared gaze finds his as I plead, “Please don’t hurt me.” I sound so weak, but he easily overpowers me. I have no doubt he could really torment me if he desired to do so.

“Shh, precious,” he murmurs, wiping my cheeks again. He bends, dropping a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I mean it; you play nice, I do to.”

Swallowing, I nod and attempt to think. I don’t know what to do. “So, umm, Sinner will be okay, then?” The faster he’s better, the sooner I can let him know about this.

“Yeah, he’s straight. 2 Piece came and sewed him up. I would never really hurt him; you need to believe that.”

“Then why did you st-stab him?” I stammer, still a bit unsure what exactly to say. I want the truth from him directly, without him omitting anything important.

“Because I found out he married your momma. Sinner belongs to me; he always has. He betrayed me, marrying her.”

“But it was fake. She wanted drugs and thought he’d get them for her. He told her he wanted an annulment. I remember listening to them fight about it.”

He thinks it over, carefully rubbing around the spot he bit. “I know it was fake, baby. He told me that afterwards” He dips his head again, placing tiny kisses all around the mark he’s left behind.

“And me? Am I a threat to you? Or do you realize I have no part in that?”

“I thought so when I found out aboutcha. Like I said, I was going to kill you. But he was right, you’re innocent in this. I can’t hold you responsible for his fuck up. Plus, I don’t want to have to hurt you. It’s not you who’s done this to me, it’s him.”

I swallow, my throat feeling dry as a desert at his revelation. “That makes me sad that you’d ever want to take my life.”

“You’re safe now, from me and from anyone else. I won’t let anything happen to you.” The pad of his thumb trails over my nipple closest to the shoulder he just kissed.

The promise is less than reassuring. I fully believe him at this point about his threat to kill me if I don’t chill out. The killing was not the metaphorical type I’m guessing. Now if I can trust him not to hurt me, that’s an entirely different thing. He is no doubt a bit unstable.

Why Sinner loves him so much is the real question. Like I said before, I know to possess one, I have to want the other. Can I forgive Saint for scaring me like this enough to want him the same way I do Sinner? Can I forgive him for injuring the man I’ve already fallen for?