Saving Glory (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club Book 4) (9 page)

If anything he was leaner, meaner and more dangerous than ever.

She twisted in his grasp, trying to wrench herself free.

“Stop it, Glory. You’ll make me hurt you.” His hand slid down from her arm to her wrist where he held it in a painful vise grip.

Back when he ran the club in Vegas, Glory had become well-acquainted with the particular kind of pain that Santino Abiatti was capable of delivering. With that in mind, she immediately stopped her struggle. And when she did, to her surprise and immense relief, he let go of her.

“What do you want? How did you find me?” She stammered out and winced as she rubbed the throbbing pain in her wrist.

“Find you? I never lost you, sweetheart.” He smiled at her with a menace he clearly enjoyed. “I have just been waiting for the right time to collect on what you owe me. You and I have got unfinished business.”

“You’re crazy. I don’t owe you anything.” Glory struggled against the dizziness that threatened to overtake her. The last time she had seen Santino Abiatti he had been standing over her in the cramped dressing room that she shared with five other dancers. Santino had watched on with barely controlled violence as Glory had quickly packed up the few things she still owned. Then with a hard shove he had sent her reeling down the stairs to the parking lot where Gino, Santino’s cousin, sat waiting in a shiny new Cadillac to take her away. Glory had jumped into the car blissfully unaware that she had just traded one hell for another.

Now she cast a frantic look past Santino then another look behind her. One part of her was scared to death of what would happen if Jules came through the door and found her with a man as smoothly menacing as Santino, and the other half of her was frightened of what would happen if he did not.

“My debt to your family is paid, Santino. Gino told me that he squared everything up with your father when he took me away from the club.” She made her voice strong even as her knees weakened. She fell against the brick wall that was suddenly behind her.

“You sure about that?” Santino shrugged in his custom made suit, while he smoothed an imaginary crease. Then he pinned her with his gaze.

“I’m dead sure,” she answered him, even as she fought to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“Interesting choice of words.” His tone turned sinister.

“What are you talking about?” she asked in a voice filled with loathing.

“You used the word dead, Glory. I just think that is an interesting choice of words considering—” he paused dramatically.

“You didn’t come across the country to talk to me in riddles. Spit it out!” Glory hissed at him in a show of false bravado. Adrenalin coursed through her body, sending her a signal to run for her life.

Glory’s gut twisted with the knowledge that she could never run fast enough or far enough to escape the long arm of the Abiatti family.

“Gino’s dead, Vincenzo’s dead—” Santino continued.

“Your father’s dead? When? How?” Glory stammered.

“The when is about a year and a half ago—the how? Well, that’s something I need to talk to your brother about.” He regarded her carefully. “My associates and I were delighted to hear that Captain Thomas made it back alive. I know it was touch and go for a while. Too bad about his face. That’s gotta be hard on a handsome guy like Hal. Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees a constant reminder of the men he let down. Of the soldiers that he let die on his watch.”

Glory fought the urge to scratch Santino’s eyes out, but instead forced herself into cool regard.

When he got no reaction from Glory, he continued nastily,” I can help Hal out with that—with his fucked up face. You know—even it out for him.”

“You go anywhere near my brother and he’ll kill you,” Glory whispered, as a cold creeping dread began to grow in the pit of her stomach.

Santino regarded her for a moment before an amused danger lit his eyes. Then he leaned in close to her and said softly into Glory’s ear.

“Not if I kill him first.”

A few minutes later Glory watched as Santino Abiatti left through the back gate of the courtyard. Her hands clenched the business card he had given her with the address written on the back. The cold sweat of her hand had dampened the ink, causing it to run slightly and stain her fingers.

Five minutes alone with him and she was already marked.

Santino Abiatti.

Son of Vincenzo. Cousin of Gino. And all around bastard. He was a ruthless, dangerous man who hid under a veneer of good looks, considerable wealth and his family ties to the Cosa Nostra. For a long time his people had held her future in his hands, had owned her in almost every way a person could be owned.

Except for one.

Thank God she had never had to service him like some of the dancers had. She had seen the bruises, and the dull looks of pain that the other strippers had after spending time with Santino. But she had been spared that.

She was never sure why, but from the start Santino’s father had taken a proprietary interest in Glory. Vincenzo had protected and shielded her as much as a headlining all-nude dancer could be protected and shielded. But then again she had made him a lot of money
. A lot
of money. Glory shivered in a cold sweat and tears stung her eyes as the memories washed over her. They threatened to pull her under in a wave of despair.

“Hey, babe, I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing out here?” The sudden sound of Jules’s voice startled her and brought Glory crashing back to the now. She jumped and cried out in nervous display.

“Glory?” He moved quickly towards her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m all right.” When she felt his muscled arms wrap around her, she almost fainted with relief.

“I’m okay,” she repeated as she took a deep unsteady breath and attempted a small smile.

Jules kept a tight hold on her. “You’re as white as a ghost. What happened? Why are you out here alone?”

“The crowds, the noise—I guess I’m just not used to it. I just needed to get some air,” Glory replied in a tumble of words. “I’m feeling better now.”

“Really? Cause you look like shit.”

Glory gave in to a slight hysterical laugh.

Jules made a quick sweep of the now empty courtyard. “You wanna sit for a minute?” He began to lead her to the small sitting area.

Glory tugged on his hand. “Actually, do you think we could just leave now?”

“Sure, babe. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Jules grabbed her hand and led her out through the gate that Santino Abiatti had just minutes before exited through.

Once they had cleared the courtyard, Glory did a quick sweep of the area and stiffened slightly when she saw that, even though Santino had left the party, he hadn’t gone far. He was sitting across the street in a black Escalade.  Perhaps the bastard had come to finish what his cousin Gino had started when he had caught Glory in her attempt to escape his brutality. Glory’s vocal cords still had not and never would recover from the screams Gino had gotten such pleasure from beating out of her. And now Gino was long dead but Santino was here to —to do what?

God help her.

I’ll be in touch in the next few days, in the meantime you’re gonna want to keep your mouth shut. And I’ll be watching to see that you do—

The only thing that kept Glory from stumbling in fear was the tight grip that Jules had on her hand. Glory felt a long overdue burst of self-pity as she swallowed hard around the lump in her throat.

When would her life stop being a nightmare that she had to fight to survive?

Maybe she was cursed, maybe she had done something awful, so terrible and unforgivable in a past life that she was doomed to roam this earth fighting battle after battle after battle to atone for it.

That must be it. That had to be it.

She just couldn’t imagine what that thing could have been.

The strong urge to put her hands up and wave a white flag in surrender filled her.

Because seeing
Santino Abiatti
— being threatened and taunted by
Santino Abiatti
— in what was supposed to be her safe-start-over place, was more than she could handle.

The camel’s back was finally and irrevocably broken.

Glory was done.

*****

Jules struggled to keep his focus on the road ahead but his eyes kept darting over to where Glory sat rigid and tense beside him.

"
Just tired” my ass. That was a bullshit excuse if he ever heard one
. Jules thought darkly. This was a woman who had been through trial by fire. She didn’t get that kind of look on her face because she was tired. Or needed some air. 

He cast another furtive glance at Glory sitting next to him in the truck. Her eyes looked too big in her face and she was twisting her hands with such anguished intensity that Jules was afraid she would hurt herself. He didn’t know what had happened to spook her, but he would bet his left nut that it was something pretty damn bad.

Chapter 15

Sick fuck.

Jules narrowed his eyes accusingly at his own reflection in the rear-view mirror. It did not make him proud that despite the fact that Glory was sitting beside him in abject misery, just experiencing the perfumed heat that radiated from her body pumped him into a painful boner.

Thinking to settle this thing between them once and for all, he made a decision.

He turned left when he should have gone right and continued along the long winding road while Glory sat ghostly-quiet beside him.

When he came to a sudden stop at the top of the small hill, Glory suddenly threw herself out of her trance-like state and began to fumble with the door handle. Jules looked on in surprised alarm at this odd and sudden display of frenetic energy. Watching her struggle Jules had the impression that Glory looked like a rabbit caught in a trap, frantic to escape.

Oh, no you don’t. 

Jules used the automatic lock release just on the driver’s side and left Glory in the passenger seat trying to fumble her way out.

He jogged around to the side of the truck and pulled the door open for her. She was so intent on freeing herself that when he pulled the door open Glory leaned out and fell straight into his arms. 

Perfect. 

“If you had waited I would have helped you down.”  Jules’s hands stayed firmly on her waist as he helped her regain her equilibrium

“I’m okay.” Glory struggled to pull herself free but stopped when she realized that the hem of her dress had somehow managed to stay stuck on the door handle.  

“Uh-huh, I can see that.” Jules held her fast against him while he reached past her to tug the garment free. But just before he did, he gave her a bold smile. 

 “Nice panties." Jules cocked his head and looked pointedly at the small patch of silk that covered her gorgeous ass.

Glory blushed as she realized her whole bottom was exposed. 

“Damn it," she cried out as she pushed against him, but her struggle to free herself only resulted in the fabric being twisted and stretched further up her body.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” He smirked. 

“Nothing you’re gonna ever see again.” Glory snatched the hem out of his hand. 

“No? Well, then I better take advantage of the moment.” Jules reached around her to smooth his big palm over her skirt. And with a wicked grin, he gave her ass cheek a long squeeze. 

“Stop that.” Glory slapped his hand away. “We’re at the clubhouse?” She looked around in confusion.

She had been so preoccupied and distressed about the scene in the courtyard that she hadn’t been paying attention.

Lesson learned.

If she were going to deal with whatever that bastard Santino was going to dish out, she better keep her head on straight.  

“What are we doing here?”  

 He folded his big arms across his chest and regarded her silently. 

“I don’t have time for games, Jules.” Glory felt a shiver of apprehension run through her as she fought to keep her voice low and even.

“And I sure as shit ain’t playing one, Glory.” His tone matched hers.

“Then tell me what we’re doing here.” 

“There’s a question I need answered.”  

“And you couldn’t ask me whatever it is on the drive home? Or at the lake house?” She huffed impatiently.

God, please don’t have this be about Santino
she sent up the silent prayer.  She was almost certain no one had seen them together, but she wasn’t sure. She needed time to process—to think. 

Glory felt a sudden tug as her small cold hand was wrapped in Jules’s warm one. Without another word he pulled her quickly across the compound, through the doors of the kitchen house and down the narrow hallway that led to his room. He kept a firm hold on her hand while he reached into the pocket of his pants, took out the keys and unlocked the door.  

Glory barely had time to register what was going on before she found herself standing in his room. 

“Jules! What are you—oh!”  Glory squeaked as she felt herself suddenly surrounded by muscular arms. Before she had a chance to recover from the surprise, his mouth covered hers. The heat that coursed through her was both foreign and achingly familiar. As the pressure of his mouth increased Glory was helpless to do anything but relax in his arms.

God, how she had missed this. 

How she had missed
him
. 

“Jules, that wasn’t a question,” she whispered weakly as his lips left a trail along her collar bone and worked its way down to the globe of her breasts.  

“Sure it was,” he whispered back as he felt her nipples grow taut underneath his gentle touch. When he heard the moan that she couldn’t stop escaping from her lips he said, “And I’m happy as hell to see that the answer is still yes.” 

 Then he kissed her again. Deeply, passionately, possessively.  

And she returned that kiss with all the longing of a woman who had been without a man—who had been without
her
man—for much too long.

She reveled in the warmth of his touch.

In the way he made her feel safe.

Made her feel protected.

Made her feel—loved.

Jules broke off the kiss just long enough to stretch Glory out on his bed. Then with slow deliberation he began to unbutton her sundress. As he released each small fastener, his eyes held hers until the last button was undone. Then with a low growl, his mouth began a slow thorough feast of her willing body. His hand moved up her smooth legs in long light caresses until his rough palms began to tease the edge of her panties. When she felt his strong fingers slip under the fabric, her thighs parted their welcome.

“Ahh—silk—how I have missed you.” He grinned against her ear.

The small nervous laughter that rose in her throat quickly turned to a deep satisfied sigh as he quickly rid her of the panties. Jules pulled away from her and in a quick flash he stood, pulled his T-shirt over his head and slid his pants down his thighs. Before Glory finished her next breath, he was on her. Glory’s soft small hands smoothed over his hard, muscled body as if in reverent memory. Her fingers grazed over every inch of Jules’s massive chest. They drew over the intricately inked mark of the Saints—a broken winged angel that spanned the width of his rib cage. Lightly she skimmed over the hard ridges of his muscles and traced the raised tissue of his scars. Her mouth followed the path of her fingers all the while placing light feathery kisses on his hard belly.

And below.

When she reached the hard, pulsing, rigid flesh, she fed on the length of him.

“Baby, stop,” Jules rasped out. When Glory felt his hand fist in her hair, she looked up at him questioning. With easy strength he pulled her up and tucked her to his side. It took less than two beats of her heart for him to slip on the condom.

Through the haze of heat and wet and raw lusting need, Glory whispered the sweet surrender and complete control to him that she knew he craved.

Jules growled low as he parted her thighs with a knowing hand. Her head fell back against his shoulder and she sighed against him while his fingers dipped deep inside her. Bending his head to catch her nipple, Jules sucked and nipped at the swollen tip in rhythm with the slow steady thrusts of his hand. The exquisite pleasure began to build inside of Glory until it washed over her in the tight rush of the swirling, blinding pleasure of climax. Jules held her close, murmuring softly to her as the throbbing in her body eased. She felt a renewed surge of pleasure when he pressed his erection against her again. With infinite care and gentleness he pushed deeper and deeper inside her with a pulsing rhythm. Glory’s long legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him in tighter. She let out a long moan of pleasure as she felt him build then fill her with long pulsing throbs of ecstasy.

Glory loved the low throaty sounds Jules made at the last. The ragged uneven cadence of his breathing, the sound of her name whispered between the long slow kisses that she could never get enough of.

She luxuriated in the power of Jules’s full weight before he rolled off her. Glory lay limp and exhausted in his arms while warm currents of pleasure seeped through her body. For the moment it was impossible to worry about anything or anyone. Nothing existed but the here and the now.

Jules lifted a lock of her silky white blond hair and let it run it through his fingers.

“Like being inside of a damn angel,” Jules whispered against her hair.

“Not quite,” Glory whispered back in languid protest.

“Don’t move,” Jules said to her as he swung his arm out from under her head. She smiled when his trip to the bathroom gave her a great view of his well-shaped ass. A few seconds later, she was tucked back at his side.

“Jules—” She sighed with regret and a wish that good things could last forever.

“Stay here tonight.” Jules surprised her. His long strong fingers made lazy circles against the soft skin of her stomach while he cradled her head in his arm. Glory curled up against him and sighed.

“Stay here with me, baby,” he whispered again against her hair, tempting her.

It was so warm lying next to him. So safe. So secure.

And she was so very
very
tired. The stress of the day, the weeks, the months, and the years seemed to crash down on Glory all at once. The worries of a lifetime threatened to drag her under into a deep swirling tidal wave of exhaustion. Glory wanted nothing more than to stay nestled against the warmth of Jules’s powerful chest and to fall asleep with his strong arms around her.

She wanted to give in to one last night of blissful surrender before the uncertainties of the present and terror of the future came crashing down around her. She wanted to give herself the gift of one uncomplicated night where she was just a woman basking in the heated afterglow of making love to a man.

She wanted to stay.

More than anything she wanted to stay.

And so she did.