They return to the compound, both covered in blood, and I know it went well. As well as it could’ve, that is. He takes her straight for the room. Downing my rum and pineapple juice, I jump off the barstool, about to trail behind.
I’m torn on what to do, though. Should I give them time alone? Part of me wants to check on her: touch her, look in her eyes, that sort of shit. The other piece of me wonders if it’d be better to let him have her to himself to comfort after what she just witnessed. That’s how it was after I first witnessed him doing a ritual. I needed his comfort. I’ve never cared so much before, and it’s driving me a little crazy inside.
“Brother.” Nightmare interrupts my conflicted pursuit before I have a chance to take a step in the direction of our rooms.
“Hey. How’d it go?” Fuck, I sound like an idiot. I shouldn’t be concerned so much; they’re grown-ass adults, and Saint’s, not in jail. That has to mean something.
He lets out a sigh, his gaze hitting the roof before coming back to mine. “Truth?”
I nod. Of course, I want him to tell me how it is. No sugarcoating shit around here with me. Ever.
He gestures to the bar, and I take my spot again as Blaze sets a longneck in front of my brother. “She cried the entire time,” he admits with a sigh. It had to be difficult to be a part of it as well, caring so much for his woman.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, but what did you expect? Saint doesn’t do shit halfway; you’re more aware of that than me.”
My gaze scans over him sitting next to me, noticing he’s free of any blood splatter. He must’ve held Jude far enough away that the blood she wears came from Saint’s hands only. It offers a tiny bit of peace, if anything. I’m sure the outcome would’ve been worse had it been sprayed on her directly. I can only imagine—she’d probably lose her lunch and pass out at that sight.
“I was worried she’d flip her shit and head for the cop shop.” My shoulders drop with the admission.
“Nah, she freaked, don’t get me wrong. But once she kissed Saint with blood all over him, I knew she was straight. She’s down with an entirely different level of crazy, brother. You don’t find women that’ll watch you kill somebody and not break. She stood strong, if not a bit scared. One thing’s for certain, she’s damn sure loyal to him.”
A relieved breath breaks free. “He kissed her like that?” I saw the dried blood on her face but hoped that was the extent of it.
“He did his usual shit with the blood and then painted her with it as well. She’s a sweet one. I was surprised she didn’t fall the fuck out at that. Especially after witnessing him slice into the shitbag...She sucked it up though and admitted she loves him. Hell, it wouldn’t faze me if she helped right beside him if he were to ask her at this point.”
My brows drop, my worry warping into something else entirely. That sounds a lot like blind devotion to me. It took years before I was able to stand with Saint and not let the blood taint me. I was convinced I was committing a sin, even if the men he killed were bad.
Now, I don’t get the feeling quite as strongly. There’s still the piece that nags in the back of my head though. That’s one of the main reasons why I attempt to be the voice of reason or put whoever he’s bleeding dry, out of their misery quickly. We’ve come across a couple really bad seeds that Saint’s sliced open and just let them drip out while they remain alive for days.
“What is it, brother?” His concerned gaze rakes over me, witnessing my expression change.
“Nothing,” I huff and shake my head.
Drinking from the fresh drink Blaze made me, I eventually stammer the truth out. “It’s just...she hasn’t even said that shit to me yet. And I’ve known her far longer now. I guess I believed she cared for me more.” Can’t believe I’m admitting it out loud; it sounds pathetic to my own ears.
“You’re overthinking it, Sin; he put her on the spot and asked her straight up.”
“Should I ask her like that, too, then?”
He shrugs. “Fuck if I know; chicks are confusing. I’ve never really understood them. One thing I have learned though, you get a chick that far gone for you, you hold on to her.”
“That’s the truth, and I’m trying to. That was the point of today anyhow. I’m ready for her to be on the back of my bike for good.”
“Look, do you love her?”
Unable to answer him aloud, I nod.
I don’t know when it happened—maybe a month ago, maybe two days ago. Who knows? But it happened. When I think of who has my heart, Saint’s not the only one filling that spot anymore. Jude has quite a big chunk of it, and I don’t want to lose her. It’s part of why she needed to find out about Saint.
“Maybe you ought to tell her how you feel. B was a stubborn bitch; I had to pretty much spell it out to get her locked down. You remember me packing her belongings up and moving her in the house. I didn’t give her a choice, even when she fought me on it. Our situation was a little different with my son involved, but you get the point I’m making.”
I remember him falling for Bethany; she had his nuts in a vice every time she was around. It’s surprising that one of them didn’t end up shooting the other with how much they were at each other’s throats at first. Now you’d look at them and not be able to imagine how they were ever apart, to begin with. Unless his ol’ lady’s pissed, then you hope to God she doesn’t scratch up your bike on accident attempting to get to Nightmare’s.
Same with Viking and Princess. Their relationship was out of the ordinary in the beginning, and yet they’re fully devoted to each other. I don’t think devoted is a strong enough word when it comes to them—more like obsessed. Viking wanted her from the moment he laid his eyes on her, and now they’re married.
Jude was a little different for me because I fought myself over her. And there’s also the complication of me being married to her mother. Which also reminds me; I need to call the club lawyer and find out what’s going on with the recent paperwork he’s filed with the court. We’re claiming she up and left right after we were married and hope that the judge grants an annulment.