by
- Burning Luck
- Claiming Cody
- Saint's Sinner
- Baiting Kong
- Courting Danger
They took what meant the most to him, but they underestimated what he and his club would go through to retrieve the man he loved.
Going legit didn’t mean going soft. Unfortunately, no one informed the rest of the world of that. Factions within their MC had been pushing buttons for months, wanting to pull the club back into ventures they were better off staying out of. Betrayals had been brought to light and swiftly dealt with. Treaties had been forged that were proving to be particularly lucrative. Business was good. They were even learning the ins and outs of diversifying. It wasn’t as profitable as their previously less than legal pursuits, but it kept the cops off their backs, for the most part, and bodies in the clubhouse rather than behind bars.
So then why was Sinn not at his side where the man belonged?
Well, that’s exactly what they were burning up the road trying to discover.
Along the way, loyalties might be tested, lines would certainly be drawn, and blood was sure to be shed, once they discovered who was behind the mysterious disappearance of the man he’d unwaveringly been drawn to.
And if a certain prospect should happen to prove unbelievably desirable in ways that had nothing to do with the road, well than that was just a bonus to Saint’s way of thinking. He was a man who thrived on pleasure and debauchery. What better place to find both than in the arms of men named Night and Sinn?
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Genres:
Pairings: M-M-M
Heat Level: 3
Romantic Content: 4
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: 36-45
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 3 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Age Difference, Found Family, Menage, Rescue
Word Count: 65,000
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Same Universe / Various Characters
“Relax.”
If there was ever a word spoken in the human language that had the ability to cause the opposite effect it was intended to, relax was that word. In fact, Saint couldn’t think of a single instance in the history of the word relax where someone had responded to it by calming the fuck down. His brother should know that, but judging from the way Mark was kicked back in his chair nursing his beer, he’d clearly forgotten what it was like to have it uttered at him when he was stressed.
“Brutha,” Saint cautioned, slamming his empty bottle on the desk and taking satisfaction in seeing it shatter, “if you tell me to relax one more time, I’m gonna forget we’re blood and kick your ass to the beach and back.”
Mark didn’t even have the decency to look at him as he swallowed the last of the liquid in his bottle. “Save your energy for when we find Sinn.”
READ MORE“You mean if we find Sinn!”
“We’ll find him.”
“You can’t promise that!” Saint raged, “You can’t promise he’ll be okay either!”
“No, but what I can promise is that whoever has done this will be made to pay.”
Snarling, Saint slammed his hand down and wound up with a piece of glass embedded in it. “And that’s supposed to be comforting?”
“Did I say…”
Saint cut Mark off by whipping a heavy glass ashtray at his head. Fucker didn’t even have the good graces to try and get out of the way. It would have been nice if he’d pretended it had come close to hitting him, but Saint’s aim had always been shit when it came to throwing. Mark probably figured moving would be what got him hit. That, or he just didn’t give a shit. He didn’t flinch when glass and plaster exploded outward from the dent the ashtray put in the wall, nor did he twitch when shards slit his cheek and sent blood spilling down it much like the flow trickling from Saint’s wounded palm.
“If this was Teddy, Kat, or, god forbid, one of my nephews, you’d have destroyed half the town by now!” Saint roared.
“And you’d have been right there with me.”
“Then why the fuck aren’t we out there doing it now?”
COLLAPSE
