My side aches; shooting pain greets me as I come to. I must’ve passed out when shit hit the fan with Saint. Jesus, what a catastrophe. I hope no one killed him. Knowing Saint, I wasn’t the only one injured in his outburst, either. It won't surprise me if there are two or three other brothers with stiches somewhere on their body as well.

Glancing around, I find myself in my own bed and alone. My side’s bandaged up, nice and neat with a lump of white gauze secured with medical tape. 2 Piece must’ve stopped by and fixed me up; it looks like his work. Thank God that guy’s close to us and on call whenever anyone needs him; we’d be fucked, if not.

My bed’s comfortable, the room at the perfect temperature, yet all I can think of is what went down in Church. Also, where did Jude end up? I hope she didn’t see me out of it and freak. Worrying about Saint losing it is bad enough—add another person to the mix, and it gets even more complicated.

Saint went flipping psycho earlier. I knew he’d be pissed if he ever found out, but not violent with me. I figured for sure he’d try killing my ex or Jude...but it was me he went after in the end. I can only imagine how it would’ve turned out if he’d have found out sooner and the brothers wouldn’t have been around to stop him in his rage.

The sound of the cry he’d let out as I’d drifted off, was haunting. I think he finally realized what he’d done once he was pulled away and there was distance between us. And that fucking knife...when I’m feeling better, I’m torching that damn thing until it melts down to nothing. He’ll never touch that blade again.

And now, here I am left to wonder what the fuck happened afterward. If I move, I’ll probably bust a stitch or two, but that’s never stopped me before. I need to find out if Saint’s dead first off, and then check on Jude. If she found out what happened, she’s probably traumatized. And if my brother’s dead, then I’ll be dealing with whoever dealt the final blow.

This mess wasn’t any of the club’s business, but with Saint bringing Jude here, he made it theirs. It would’ve been much easier for me to break it to him slowly without Jude in the mix, but he somehow found out about her mom regardless. It probably doesn’t make sense to some why I’d seek an annulment. But if I pretend I don’t know where she is, then it won’t look so suspicious if the cops were to overturn any evidence. Sounds fucked up, but it's the only way I can think to stay out of prison.

That’s another reason why I’ve been fighting myself to stay away from Jude. I fucking killed her mother. And the worst of it all is that I didn’t even care. The only worries I had was to not get locked up because of it.

I had to make sure Jude was taken care of too. Without her mother there to help her pay bills and what not, she needed me. I keep reminding myself that the chick could’ve starved had I not kept coming around. Saint should see that eventually...one can hope anyhow.

And yet I find myself hung up on her ass way more than I ought to be. Each time I’d go for a visit, I’d swear to myself it’d be my last time there. I had to get a plan together in order to cut ties. We can see how that worked out for me.

Obviously, it wasn’t soon enough if Saint was able to see through my excuses. The other brothers never asked where I was going. Hell, they’d have been mind fucked if they had. I answer to no one except the Prez and occasionally Saint.

Slowly jostling my body, I move to sit myself up, getting met with more stabbing pain. It quickly reminds me of my wound and the importance to let it heal. I hate this shit. I don’t do well having injuries, it reminds me too much of when I was younger.

Saint is nothing like my father though. He’s never hurt me like this before. I wouldn’t have stuck around in the past if he had.

Slowly standing to my feet, I grit my teeth as the skin on my stomach stretches out again.

Fucking shit. Thank God I was out when he sewed me up, that shit would’ve sucked if not.

Blowing a deep breath free, I curse a few times and take my time heading out my door. Saint’s room is next to mine, so I don’t have to go far to search for him. I find his door unlocked, so I enter without knocking, as we always do.

“The fuck?”

He has Jude in his bed, and he’s lying on top of her. Thankfully they both have clothes on still. I’m injured, and he’s working to get in her pants. Can’t say I’m amused in the slightest. He has some nerve, that’s for sure.

“Brother!” Saint gapes and leaps up, coming toward me, and I cringe holding my arm up between us.

His expression falls seeing me react to him as if I’m frightened. I’m not. I’m just sore and a little confused on how he’s feeling and why Jude’s in bed with him. Is he still furious from before, or has he calmed down enough to talk?

“You okay?” I ask, seeking her out, my gaze trailing over her swiftly.

Her eyes fill with tears, but she nods.

“You hurt her too?” I question Saint, watching him look like his usual self. Well, minus the bite mark on his chin and his swollen temple. That must’ve hurt. Can’t say I mind him being a little fucked up, though, after what he did to me.

“Nah, the bitch bit me, so I bit her back.” He motions in Jude’s direction and a rumble of irritation takes over my chest.

“If she bit you, you should’ve left her the fuck alone.”

“I was tryin’ to be straight with her, and she flipped out.”

With a scoff, I tell Jude, “Come on, you’re coming to my room.”

She peers over at Saint, unsure of what to do, and it pisses me off. Jude was mine first. She was all for me before she even knew Saint existed. Now a few days with the brother and she’s giving a fuck what he has to say?

“Now, Jude.” I drop the order, no room for argument in my voice, and she hops up, doing as she’s told.

She passes in front of Saint, and he snatches her arm, not letting her go. “Not so fast. We need to talk, Sin.” His movements have the tension radiating from me. I’m not in the mood for any more of his shit today.

“Let her the fuck go.”

“Not until we get some things straightened out. She won’t go anywhere.”

“I’m not discussing this in front of her, and she’s sleeping in my bed tonight.”

“It’s fine, Sinner. I can wait.” She stares at me longingly and fuck if I can’t wait to get my hands on her.

Just touching her will make me feel better, I know it. I’m taking her to my room, and she can lie next to me, dragging her fingers all over my flesh like she did this morning before any of this went down. Maybe for a small amount of time, she can forget and just relax.

“See brother, she’s all right. Now why in the fuck did you pull some shady shit like that?”

“I told you, Saint, I was trashed. Part of me is even considering that she could’ve fucking drugged me. I don’t remember anything but waking up and seeing the damn marriage certificate. I didn’t believe it was real until I spoke to the lawyer. Like I said, I wanted it reversed immediately.”

“Hmm.” He snorts, and Jude places her hand over his.

“I wouldn’t doubt it, Saint. My mom is not a decent woman. She was with a lot of guys always trying to get what she could out of them. I can’t say I’d be surprised if she ended up in a ditch somewhere because of it. Please don’t take her plotting out on Sinner.”

His grin warps into a wicked smile as he gazes down at her. “Oh yeah, dead? That so, baby?”

“Don’t, Saint!” I order, and his silver irises fly back to me.

“Fine,” he huffs. “You want me to stop, Sin? Then you better figure out a way for this whole thing to work.” His finger moves in a circle, motioning to the three of us. Of all things for him to demand, I wasn’t expecting him to even consider the three of us being anything together.

I’m flabbergasted he’s seriously going to blackmail me right now. Over Jude, a woman he’s barely met, yet he’s willing to go this far for her after being angry at me for wanting her. “Seriously, Saint? Since when do you want to have just one chick in your bed?” I don’t want to hurt her with this, but I can’t stop the truth from breaking free.

He shrugs, placing a kiss on Jude’s forehead and surprises the shit out of me. “Since you.” He peers down at Jude, mumbling, “Since her.”

He finally releases her arm, letting her come to me, his gaze humble. “I know it’s the only way to have you forever. I’m not willing to give you up, Sinner, so I’ll share you.”

Jude wraps her arms around me, and I draw in a deep breath, the ping of pain not so welcome, even if her embrace is comforting. “Easy, my side is fucked.” I heard him, but having her in my arms is enough to momentarily distract me from the seriousness of his proclamation.

“Oh no, I’m sorry.” She wrenches back, worrying as she checks me over. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I am.” Drawing her back, this time against my good side, I breathe in her clean smelling hair. I’m so much better with her here, like this. Running my nose down her temple, I whisper, “I want you to come lay with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saint...are you hurt?” I ask as he comes up to me as well. He stares at me with so much in his gaze, like he’s trying to see straight into my soul. I’m still upset, but I want to make sure he’s all right. He may have hurt me, but I’ll always love him.

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m fine. Deserved it after what I did to you,” he admits, brushing his nose against mine softly—stealing my breath with the move. He’s not always hard and temperamental; sometimes he’s gentle. “Take it easy, Sin, I’m hitting the bar.”

Swallowing, I rest my arm over Jude’s shoulder, letting her take on some of my weight. I was stabbed, but yet I feel exhausted as if I ran a marathon. Not that I know what that would feel like, but I can guess. It’s most likely from my adrenaline spiking then falling like it did. “I’ll be in bed then.”

He grunts, knowing it’s an invitation for when he’s had his fill of liquor. He rarely sleeps if he’s left alone. I hate knowing he’s in here awake by himself, thinking about a million things and driving himself crazy. It’s comforting to have him beside me, sleeping peacefully. Plus, it helps chase away my own restlessness.

We make it back to my bed, and Jude lies down beside me. My body has a chance to relax again and in doing so realizes a woman is up against it. My cock begs to have some fun, but the chance to rest calls to me stronger. She snuggles deeper in to my side, and I sigh, content for the moment.

“Sinner?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Saint will kill me?”

“Not while I’m still breathing.” My eyes snap back open at her question. Just what the fuck did he do to her while I wasn’t around? “What did he say to you?” He was clearly on a roll today, Christ.

She leans up, half on my chest so she can meet my questioning gaze. “He said that he was going to kill me, but he’s changed his mind now.” Her shoulders lift, her gaze unsure. “I don’t feel unsafe around him though. He’ll get upset about something, but then when he calms down, he’s really sweet to me.”

A relieved breath leaves my lungs as I muster up a grin for her. “Then you’ll be fine, sweetheart. That’s how Saint is when he’s comfortable with someone. Besides, what he was implying just a second ago wasn’t that we kill you.”

“What exactly was he implying?”

“That we keep you.” I bring her hand to my mouth, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. Her hands are so small, I love holding them in mine.

“Oh.” Her wide eyes shine with something...maybe hope or excitement? Whatever it is, I hope she holds on, ‘cause she’s in for a wild ride. When Saint gets his mind made up on something, it’s hard to break him away.

“Give me another.” The request comes out in a grumble, and Blaze pours me some more Crown Royal, nearly filling the entire glass. I don’t fuck around; I like my liquor. Not to the point where I drink until I drown every single feeling in my body regularly, but I enjoy relaxing with a few here and there.

He sets my glass down on the bar top, “You wanna tell me about earlier, brother?”

Not really, but I did stab another brother and then smash another’s nose. Guess I sort of need to offer them more than just a quick, ‘I’m calmed down.’ Blaze’s been around for a few years now, but I still don’t look at him like I would Nightmare or Exterminator. I’ve been through some shit with those brothers, not so much with the old Widow Makers-patched Oath Keepers.

Not sure if I’ll ever look at the hybrids as full members. I shouldn’t think that way, but I do. I’ve ridden with the others for far too long to look at the hybrids all in the same sense.

“I didn’t know he was married,” I admit after a tense moment, not wanting to admit the truth. The words sting my tongue, a poison to my ears as I hear them aloud. They’re bitter to the taste, knowing exactly what they imply.

Honestly, it was the last thing to cross my mind, and when he admitted it, I’d thought the world had come crashing down on me. You don’t love someone as much as I love Sinner and just let shit like that fly by without some sort of repercussion. His admission cut my insides like a knife when the words fell from his lips. My actions in response were straight autopilot; my mind was gone in that moment. My soul had gone black, I didn’t know how else to react.

“But you thought that was reason enough to slice him up?” He takes a hefty drink from his longneck of Corona, setting it down next to my glass.

“I was fucking pissed.” My brow begins to sweat in irritation of having to think about it more. “So much so, that I didn’t realize my blade was even in my hand until it’d already happened.” My eyelids slam closed as I wince, remembering how stunned Sinner’s face had become at that moment. I hate myself for hurting him.

“Viking was fucking livid. You got blood all over the rug and the wall.”

I shrug and take a swig of the liquid gold. As if I give a fuck if they were briefly inconvenienced. My fucking life stopped, and they’re worried about a scarlet stain. It’ll add a new touch to the room and serve as a reminder to the others as to what happens when you betray me. As for the wall, well it’ll add character. Last I checked we’re a goddamn outlaw MC.

“You might wanna apologize to the Prez,” he offers, and I roll my eyes, his suggestion going in one ear and out the other. I don’t need his recommendations on how to run my club life or what to say to my brothers. He might be so far up Viking and Princess’s asses that he can’t find the light, but I don’t roll that way. I’ve always been a dick. They know that, and I won’t be changing it anytime soon—if ever.

“Nah, Viking knows me. I’ve been through some shit with the brother.” As for Princess, all she has to do is point, and I’ll slice a motherfucker’s throat for her.

“I get that, but...”

Cutting him off, I slam the glass down on the counter. “The fuck you do.”

The muscles in my body grow taut, laying it out. “You’re his cousin, Blaze, his other family. You have his back and good for you. But never forget that I have his back too. What happened with Sinner has nothing to do with you, brother. Nothing.”

“Fine.” Letting it go, he backs down with an exhale. “I’ll drop it. You need to talk to someone, well then, I’m here,” he finishes, finally permitting me to have a bit of peace from his inquisition. He may be acting VP for the time being, but he needs to remember I didn’t vote him there.

“Appreciate it, but I won’t need to.”

I don’t want to speak to anyone about shit. I never needed it and never will. The only person I give two fucks as to what they think is that man laying down the hall with a slice in his side. A wound that I was warped enough to put there.

Torch saddles up on the stool next to me, and I roll my eyes again, preparing for shit from him next. “Saint.”

This is not my idea of a relaxing time at the bar. It reminds me of what a loveless marriage would be like with a hateful chick who bitches constantly. A prime example of why I’m a biker, so I don’t have to listen to it.

“Torch.” The bored response rolls off my tongue, not in the mood to hear his input either.

These two, both Viking’s boys from his old crew, and neither are my favorites of the brothers around here. Guess they think their past gives them the right to come and try to speak to me about my business. If they only had a fucking clue, it takes a lot to get to that level with me. Hell, it was six years before I agreed with Sinner to hang up my patch for Viking. Before that, it was Ex, and fuck anyone else trying to come around.

He signals for a beer and Blaze sets his usual in front of him. “You feelin’ all right?”

“Fine. Not that it’s anyone business.”

Taking a swig, he side-eyes me, “Look, man, I was just asking because I decked you pretty hard, and then you hit the ground. Just making sure there aren’t hard feelings and shit. I’m not trying to have a beef with anyone in the club. I moved out here to get away from club drama.”

Finally, someone not nosing into my life. “I deserved it, I know that. There’s no negative shit coming from my way. I appreciate you stopping me before I fucked anybody else up. Sometimes my mind gets fuzzy, and I hurt people. Your nose busted?”

“Yeah, but no worries, it’s my job.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug, letting it go and just like that, the subject’s dropped. He is one of the club’s death dealers, essentially a club enforcer—just a step up. He’ll kill you if he comes after you. “Shots then?”

“Fuckin’ right.” Grinning, we fist pump, and he calls Blaze back, ordering a double round of tequila.

The life in the MC, a shot or a punch can hash out some hard feelings, and you move on about your business. In Sinner’s case, I owe him one hell of a blow job. There’s no way a shot will make up for my earlier rage.

I don’t know how many shots Torch, Blaze, and I end up doing, but it’s enough to smooth the strain between everyone and make my body begin to feel numb. My head was tender after being punched, but the pain is a simple reminder of me hurting Sinner. I’ll never forgive myself for that. I need to make it work with Jude for him too. I owe him that.

I can only hope that eventually, Sin will forgive me though because I meant it when I told him I want forever. I’ve known him most of my life, and there’s no one I’d rather be with. If we get Jude in the mix, it’s just a bonus as far as I’m concerned.

I enjoy a woman as much as he does. With our lifestyle, you never know when tomorrow may be your last, and I don’t want him lying to me for another woman—ever. I may not let the next one live if he does.

In my drunken haze, I end up finding my way to his room, per my usual when I drink without him. I’m completely exhausted and ready to leave my resentment at the door. After today’s events, I just want to be near him and move forward.

“Saint?” he mutters as I shuck my boots, followed by my clothes.

I sleep naked, we both do. No clothes mixed with alcohol was how we first had sex together without a woman involved. We’ve never stopped since.

“I’m here.”

Swaying a little, I use the silvery blue glint from the moonlight shining through the window on the far side of the room to find my way to the empty side of the bed. Jude’s tucked into Sinner’s chest, lying in the middle. His wound’s wrapped and away from her on the opposite side.

“You good?” He watches sleepily as I climb into bed on the other side and pulls some more blanket over for me to use.

“Thanks, fucked up off tequila,” I admit with a yawn and fall back into the pillow.

He chuckles; it’s a welcome sound after my stressful day. His sleepy rasp has my cock tingling, but nothing more. “Got whiskey dick,” I confess, and he snickers quietly.

“Good. Go to sleep.”

With his order, I close my eyes. “Mmm.” Groaning, I pull Jude my way a bit, tucking her ass into my groin and I’m out like a light.