Page 34 of Holley Jolly Biker

The fucker gasped, “I... I threw it out.”

I looked at the woman who was damn near about to pop.

And I knew.

She had been the reason for all this.

And he was nothing more than a spineless piece of shit.

My brothers and I went through his house, finding shit we knew could make a lot of money.

When he started to protest, I pulled up the card I had gotten from Jacob.

I had given him the PG version.

Then I handed the bastard the card and said, “He will be in touch if you go to the authorities with this shit. Statute of limitations might be over, but I can guaran-goddamn-tee you that he will pin your fuckin’ balls to the wall.”

And I knew it.

I knew when he read the name he needed to be worried.

Because Lance Davidson was a pitbull.

And he was nothing more than a fuckin’ rat.

That night, I was there waiting for Ophelia to get off work.

I had picked Soraya up from the Robbins, and we had made dinner.

The brothers had worked fast on trading the shit we brought with us into cash.

Her mouth had fallen open when I laid seventy-eight hundred dollars in front of her.

After I told her why, she jumped up from her chair, placed her hands on either side of my cheeks, and then... she kissed me with the softest caress I have ever felt.

If I knew handing her that cash and doing that for her would have gotten me her lips when we first met, I’d have done it.

That night, yes, I had her in my bed after the conversation last night, that we were goin’ at her pace. I promised her, and I meant it.

She whispered in the dark, “You won’t get into trouble for all you did for me. Right?”

I shook my head, “Nah. Should I get in trouble, they can bring it on. I was protectin’ mine.”

And had I not been listening to her even breathing, I would have missed it when she whispered, “His,” just before she fell asleep curled up in my arms.

Chapter 6

Saint

After we had gotten them all moved in and the Christmas tree back up with more ornaments, I took them to the store to get anything and everything they needed.

We had our first fight in front of the cashier in Target when she tried to pay for stuff.

“Spend that money on anything your heart desires or put in an account for college for Soraya. Whatever you wanna do with it. But you’re mine. So is Soraya. I’ll say yes, ma’am, to anything you tell or ask me to do. But not this.”

“Saint, this isn’t right,” she snapped.

Poor little Soraya’s head was flipping back and forth as we went at it, her little brown curls whipping this way and that way.