Saving Glory (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club Book 4) (11 page)

Glory awoke the next morning to a breeze blowing softly across her cheek. The dapples of light that streamed through her bedroom window served to wash away the lingering darkness. The room was bathed in the beautiful rose colors of dawn.

Gloria walked to the window just in time to see the sun begin its glorious ascent. Proudly it lifted over the soft, lapping waves and seemed to cast warmth and light on whatever it touched.

It was a beautiful and serene and majestic sight.

Meant to fill the earth with hope and light.

Liar! Liar! Liar!

Glory slammed down the window and wrenched the curtains closed against the promise of the coming day.

After that she crawled back under the covers and pulled the pillow over her head.

Because of Santino Abiatti.

With a violent heave Glory uncovered her head and threw the pillow across the room.

And when she did the sundress that was draped over the chair fell to the floor.

The sundress she had worn to the bakery opening.

The sundress that Jules had no trouble slipping right off of her.

Jules.

Oh God.

She had made a deal with the devil.

She clutched a hand over her heart as if to ward off the vividly erotic memories of her body’s willing response to his every touch.

But it was no use.

Because images of Jules’s big beautiful body propelled through her mind with the force of a jet plane. She felt weak at the knees at the thought of his mouth on hers. Her body still tingled in the places where he had touched her. After all Glory’s resolve, when the moment came to resist the undeniable pull that Jules had on her, she had been putty in his hands. Shamelessly nuzzling against him like a kitten seeking shelter from a storm.

No. Not quite
. A small inner voice corrected her.
More like a stray in heat circling the neighborhood tomcat.

With a decisive frown, Glory got up and gathered the clothing she had worn to the opening. Then in what she considered a symbolic move, Glory threw the offending garments in the small wastebasket by the side of her bed. Because, despite the little speech Glory had given Jules yesterday about the whole relationship thing, a small part of her had thought, and even hoped that maybe somehow they could work things out. Maybe someday get to a place of understanding, or something more.

But now, that was all shot to hell.

Because of Santino Abiatti.

*****

Glory swam laps in the lake like demons were chasing her. She flung her arms out in long strong strokes, her feet kicking hard and propelling her body forward in a frantic motion. Her soul felt like it was being squeezed by the weight of her fear and sorrow.

Santino had said that he would be in touch. He had wrenched her purse out of her hand, and rifled through it until he came up with her phone. Then he had logged her number into his cell and handed her purse back to her.

She was just supposed to wait.

In every song ever written it was said that waiting was the hardest part.

And it was true.

Yet in a lifetime of uncertainty, Glory had learned that waiting could be a gift. And she was going to use that gift to figure out how she was going to prepare herself for whatever diabolical plan Santino wanted to involve her in.

Men like Santino Abiatti always had a damn plan.

Glory let out a small cry as a muscle in her stomach began to spasm. She'd lost count of how many times she swam laps around the buoy but her shoulders had begun to ache and now her abdomen was beginning to cramp up. Glory switched over to her back and floated until the cramp subsided, then she resumed her long measured strokes. When she got to the dock, she heaved herself out of the water and glanced to the house. She could see straight into the window to where her brother was working the elliptical like it was his job.

She wished for the millionth time that she could tell Hal about this latest nightmare.

Not if I kill him first.
And Glory had no doubt that Santino meant every word.

Her brother was getting stronger every day. His progress was slow and steady but Hal was definitely making measurable gains. His body was healing.

It didn’t dare not to.

Hal worked it like he was trying to punish it for surviving. He was in that weight room from dawn to dusk. Long before Jules came and long after he had gone. The war Hal was waging against his injuries was filled with grit, perseverance and fortitude.

And by all accounts, it was a battle he was winning. But that was only half the fight.

Because Glory knew that the night terrors hadn’t stopped. After the third or fourth time she heard the washer running in the middle of the night, she had gotten in the habit of leaving a clean set of sheets for him on top of the dryer.

Glory’s fervent prayer every morning was that Hal had rested peacefully the night before.

But every morning the clean set of linens would be gone and the washer would be filled with the sweat-soaked sheets from the night before.

Glory had taught herself to keep walking past the open door that led to Hal’s room and ignore the bag of weed, pack of rolling papers, and beer bottles on his night stand.

And last week, after she had been jarred awake to the sound of something shattering in the middle of the night, she had closed her eyes tight against the sound. When she found the jagged remains of a mirror piled high in the kitchen trash the next morning, she fought back the burst of sobs that threatened to defeat her.

Hal was trying his best to work it all out, but it was no secret to her that he was hanging on by a thread. And Glory was going to do her best to make sure that lifeline held.

Glory grabbed the towel off the softly rocking dock and briskly dried herself off. She reached into the cooler that her brother kept stocked with beer and twisted off the cap. Then she plopped herself down into the deep Adirondack chair and began to hatch a plan of her own.

She would not meet Santino alone. Or unarmed.

She would go to see him at the hotel. She would demand that they have drinks in the restaurant.

Now she just needed a gun.

*****

Glory busied herself with household chores while she kept one eye on the clock waiting for Hal to go out for his daily cross training.

Feeling like a third-rate spy, Glory hid behind the kitchen curtain while she watched Hal lift the aluminum road racer from the side porch and carry it to the driveway. Glory sent up a silent prayer of thanks that, in his circuit training schedule, today was his biking day. Hal would be gone for at least a couple of hours. She ran to both doors and quickly twisted the locks in place. Then she finished washing the kitchen floor and plopped the mop in the bucket. No time to waste in emptying the wash water. She could do that later.

She had thought it would be easy. She knew that he must have put that bag somewhere in the cabin. Before they left Maryland Hal had insisted that they made a quick stop at a rundown apartment house at the edge of town. He had made her wait in the car about twenty minutes before he came out with a small duffle bag. Wordlessly, he had thrown it in the trunk. But not just in the trunk, he had made the effort to hide the small bag under the spare tire hub. Her attempts to ask him what was in it were met with stony silence. Glory’s hope in searching for the duffle now was that there would be something useful in it. Something that she could use for protection when she went to meet Santino.

She just had to find it. Today.

It had been two days since Glory heard from him and she couldn’t imagine that Santino would keep her waiting much longer.

With a rapidly beating heart, Glory decided to search Hal’s room.

But where to start?

Most obvious first, she supposed. She turned to the dresser sitting against the wall and began her search. Gingerly, Glory sifted through what looked like some sort of clever T-shirt filing system.

Blacks on the left. Whites on the right. Greys in the middle.

And they were all folded with the precision of a Downton Abbey valet.

Although she really couldn’t bring herself to give her brother’s underwear drawer more than a cursory glance, she scrutinized the other drawers thoroughly. She searched his pants pockets for maybe a key or any slip of paper that would give a clue as to where he had stored that damn duffle. She even went so far as to pull out the drawers one at a time and run her fingers along the edges of the dresser's wooden frame.

Glory rummaged in the closet and under the bed. Recalling every mystery book she had ever read, she lifted the mattress and looked under it too. Finally, fifty minutes into the search she had to admit defeat. With a heavy sigh, she plopped down on her brother’s bed and felt the tears begin to run down the sides of her face.

The stress was beginning to get to her.

She wasn’t sleeping well and she had a constant headache. The ball of nerves in her stomach made eating impossible. She just wished the Santino would call so she could deal with whatever menace he was here to deliver.

Glory lay on Hal’s bed staring at the ceiling. The memories that she had fought to keep at bay all these years kept coming back to her in flashes—
the two cups of coffee and handful of Xenedrines she would need to get through her shifts.

Her body naked, shaved and oiled in its spray-tanned skin.

The mouth that she reddened, moistened and plumped in order to display the requisite coy smile—lips parted, eyes hooded.

A drink or two to loosen up.

Change of costume—feathers, sequins, spandex.

Turn, bend over, shake your ass, shimmy your tits, toss your hair.

Smile like you mean it, laugh like it’s funny.

Rinse. Repeat.

With a heavy sigh. Glory pushed away the dark memories, angling her head to wipe away her tears. When she did, her eye caught what looked like fingerprints on one of the ceiling tiles. She squinted and shook her head slightly but the image did not fade. Not only were the fingerprints definitely there, but as she continued to stare at the smudged discoloration, it appeared that one corner of the tile was slightly askew.

As if someone had pushed it up and it had not quite settled back in place.

Glory scampered off the bed and dragged a chair to that corner of the room. Standing on tippy toes she thanked her morning yoga routine as she stretched to jolt the tile out of place. When her searching hand hit rough canvas, she almost wept in relief.

With sweating hands she hefted the bag over to the bed and unfastened the snap that held the straps together. When a sudden strong breeze forced itself through the open window as if in warning, it sent a trail of goose bumps up and down her neck.

Glory steadied her hand and began to slowly open the duffle bag. There, sitting inside the small bag, sat a pistol, some sort of long metal attachment, a serrated buck knife, a throwaway cell with a power pack, and a small roll of cash.

Glory hefted the smooth steel of the gun in her palms. She turned the gun over and over. To her consternation, she realized that this was an automatic weapon.

A revolver she could have handled.

A basic—load the gun, spin the barrel—type of thing. She had seen it on TV a million times.

But this gun looked like one continuous piece of metal. She had no idea if it were loaded or not. Or how to unlatch the safety—if that thing on there even was the safety….

With a mournful sigh Glory threw herself back on the bed, face down and let out a long scream of frustration into the mattress.

Ten minutes later and well into a full out pity party, Glory almost fell off the bed as the house shook with the explosive sound of someone pounding at the door.

Shit.

Now what?

Her nerves were already strung to the point of breaking. The last thing Glory needed was an unexpected damn visitor. Maybe if she just ignored them they would go away. She had barely time to finish the thought before the loud pounding resumed.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

When an unintelligible shout accompanied yet another round of heavy-fisted knocking, Glory shot off the bed. With shaking hands, she quickly and carefully placed the gun in the bag. Then she hurried to return the duffle to its hiding place.

After wiping her sweaty palms on her shirt, she gave Hal’s room another quick scan to make sure everything was back in place. Then she hurried to the kitchen before whoever was banging put an impatient fist through the glass. Glory rounded the corner and approached the door with a mixture of fear and trepidation. Considering the events of the past days—she figured she could probably expect the worst to be waiting for her on the threshold. She pulled back the curtain and peered through the opaque window glass.

While the outline of his wide shoulders was barely visible, she would know that large hulking form anywhere.

Jules. Thank God.

Glory knew that seeing him standing in her doorway shouldn’t fill her with relief. She knew she shouldn’t want him to ride in like some medieval knight on a white horse and free her from all the secrets and pain of her past.

But she did want all those things.

She really,
really
did.

*****

“Everything all right?” Jules looked at her with concerned exasperation. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I was doing laundry and I didn’t hear you,” she lied.

Jules nodded with a frown as his eyes took a quick sweep around the room. “So why’d you lock the door?”

She made her eyes wide in feigned confusion. “The door was locked? You sure?”

“Yeah, Glory, been banging for five minutes. I’m fucking sure.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

Glory looked around the room frantic for inspiration, when her eyes settled on the still full wash bucket she sighed with relief. “Oh, yeah. I was washing the floor earlier and I didn’t want Hal to come in and slip on the wet tiles.” Eager to change the subject, she added, “He’s gone for a ride, I didn’t think you guys were working out today.”

“We’re not,” Jules surprised her by saying. Then he easily lifted the water bucket from the floor and emptied the contents into the sink for her.

“Since when did you start washing floors?” he teased her.

“I happen to be very good at cleaning.” Glory put her hands on her hip and lifted her nose at him.

“That’s good to know, baby. Because later on, you might wanna take a swipe at this counter.” Jules’s big hands spanned her trim waist to lift her up on the granite, then he wedged himself between her thighs. Before she could protest, he gave her a long, possessive kiss. She caught her breath and stopped him before he could begin another. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?”

He grinned at her and began to unbutton her shirt. “I’m saying goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” She felt a surge of unwelcome panic fill her. “What do you mean by
goodbye
?”

When Jules ignored the question and continued to undress her, Glory slapped his hand away.

“Stop that and tell me what’s going on.” She began to button up her shirt with tense fingers. The last thing she needed was Jules playing with her emotions right now.

For every button she buttoned, he unbuttoned one.

“This isn’t funny,” she said, suddenly on the verge of tears.

Goodbye.

At the tone of her voice and the look on her face, Jules lost his playful smile.

“Just a road trip, honey.” Jules’s tone was tender.

“Where?” Glory winced as even she heard the insecurity ring out from her voice.

He arched an eyebrow at her. “What’s going on, Glory?”

“It’s just that Hal really depends on you being here to spot him.” She tried and failed to keep the misery out of her voice.

Goodbye.

“So you think Hal might miss having me around?” Jules said with a gentle smile. “You think maybe you might miss me a little bit too?”

Glory could only nod.

Jules pulled her close and kissed the top of her forehead.

“I’ll be back before you know it. And your brother’s doing great, this worrying shit—you gotta ease up, honey.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re right,” Glory agreed, wishing she could ease up on the worrying shit.

“And besides, he’s coming with,” Jules told her.

“Who’s coming with?” Glory’s eyes narrowed slightly because Jules couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he meant.

“Hal is, babe.” Jules caressed the sensitive spot on her neck with the back of his hand. “He’s gonna be driving the van down for the club later on this afternoon. With a long run like this we usually take the van with us just in case of break downs and shit. Weather’s been so nice after all that fucking wind and rain last week, brothers are all looking forward to taking their bikes down to Fallsview. Hal volunteered to drive the service van down. We don’t usually let a non-member do that, but Prosper okayed it and everyone is just grateful they don’t have to drive the cage,” Jules told her.

While a myriad of concerns ran through Glory’s mind of what Hal getting closer to the club could mean, today she had bigger fish to fry. She turned her attention back to what Jules was telling her.

“Why are you going so far away? And when will you be back?” Glory asked.

“We’re only gonna be gone a few days and it’s not that far. Crow’s made the decision to officially patch over to the Fallsview chapter. It’s really just a bullshit reason for a party, seeing as he has been with that crew for a while now. Reno, Gunner, Riker and a couple of other guys are heading up too,” Jules told her.

Glory nodded thinking this was both the best and worst time for Jules to be gone. It would make it easier for her not to worry about him finding out about her meeting with Santino, but the thought of him being a couple of states away if she needed him….

“It’s important to Crow, honey,” Jules explained as if in apology.

“Raine told me he had a wife and a couple of boys now right?” Glory forced herself to focus.

“Yeah.” Jules grinned and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Melissa is his wife’s name. You’d like her. Pretty, smart, good sense of humor. Doesn’t let Crow get away with shit. And he’s got two boys. Jett is his stepson, and the baby’s name is Raven. Looks like a mini Crow. Has all this dark hair and shit. Same green eyes as his daddy. Jury heads up the Fallsview chapter. In my opinion, he’s a crazy fuck, but he runs a tight club. It’s only about 60 miles or so from where Crow lives, so it makes sense he’d make it his home chapter, but I gotta tell you, I miss the brother.” Jules let a lock of Glory’s hair run through his fingers as he spoke to her.

“I always liked Crow. It’s good to know he’s happy and settled. Tell him I said hello.” Glory thought to herself that Melissa must be something, because she had thought that he would never get over Raine. Nice to know he had.

She just wished Fallsview wasn’t so far away and that Jules wasn’t leaving her. Because the truth was, no matter how badass and capable she had proven herself to be over the years, Glory was getting really tired of the “danger around every corner" bullshit. She seriously questioned whether or not she had the strength to survive another round of it. Feeling that, she fought back the tears and the almost irresistible urge to jump on Jules, wrap her arms and legs around him and beg him to stay.

“So you’ll be gone—” Glory swallowed around the lump in her throat. “What? A couple of days?”

“More like a few days.” Jules eyed her speculatively and asked again. “What’s going on, Glory?”

“I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.”

Oh yeah, and by the way, I am in seriously deep shit with a sadistic monster from the West Coast mob.

Then yet another worry took hold and a flash of pain throbbed in her temple as she thought of Hal going with.

I just hope that Hal is up to this.” She shook her head slightly.

“Plenty of booze and pussy—Hal’s gonna have a fucking blast.” Jules grinned at her.

“That’s not funny. He doesn’t do well in crowds, Jules,” Glory pressed.
Why the not add the fear of a PTSD episode to the mix of her concerns.

“Band of brothers and shit. I think he’s missed that. It’ll be good for him. Plus, Crow’s place is close by. Things get too much, he can always crash there. It’s all good,” Jules reassured her. Then he added for extra measure, “I’ll keep my eye on him, babe. Really it’ll be good for him.”

Glory let out a long sigh and repeated, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you, too.” Jules drew her close to him.

Then he took Glory by the hand and led her to the bedroom to show her just how much.