Possession(Sons of Odin MC)(24)

He parked at the end of Dog Tag’s driveway and strutted to his front door. He punched the doorbell half a dozen times.

“Hold on,” he heard his Brother call from inside.

As soon as the door opened, Vincent pushed his way inside and looked around. Wearing a pair of black boxers and a shit-eating grin, Dog Tag appeared guilty as fuck.

“What’s up?” Dog Tag tried to fist-bump him.

“How many times do I have to tell you your prick is going to get you in trouble?” Vincent shoved him against the foyer wall. “Where’d you go last night?”

“For a ride.”

“Where?” he demanded.

“Robstown. Stopped in that dive on Lopez Street for a couple beers.”

“Wearing your cut?”

Dog Tag stared at the floor before he answered. “Yeah.” He flashed a dangerous smile. “Picked up a prime piece of ass before I left.”

Vincent couldn’t contain his anger. He punched Dog Tag in the face, his gold signet ring leaving a welt on his cheek. “That’s just the beginning.”

Dog Tag rubbed his face resentfully. “What the fuck?”

“Familiar with the name Crash?”

Dog Tag swallowed. “Yeah—the bastard doesn’t know how to treat a lady.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Saline!” Dog Tag called. “Come downstairs, baby.”

A minute later, a beautiful blonde wrapped in a sheet joined them in the entryway.

“Show Vincent your back,” Dog Tag growled.

“But…” She retreated.

“Please.”

She nodded and turned around, lowering the sheet. What appeared to be cigarette burn scars dotted her tanned skin. “Disciplinary marks compliments of my old man.”

“Ex,” Dog Tag interjected.

“Ex,” she repeated.

Vincent eyed the scars with disgust. Though it didn’t excuse Dog Tag’s reckless behavior, it did give him a legitimate defense. “What are you two trying to say?”

“That she’s staying with me.”

Vincent met Saline’s blue gaze. “Is it true?”

“Yes. Dog Tag asked me to be his old lady last night. I’m finished with the Man-o-Wars.”

Why should he trust the old lady of one of his most hated rivals? She could be a spy. But the marks on her back suggested otherwise. He’d counted a couple dozen scars concentrated mid-spine. It must’ve hurt. “This changes things,” he admitted. “Where’s your patch?” he asked.

“Trash can in the garage.”

“Show me your tat.”

Saline lifted her right foot. “On my ankle.”

Vincent spotted it right away, Property of Crash. “Two things need to happen today. One, give me your patch, and two, Dog Patch, take Saline to Chico and get that tat removed or covered with Sons of Odin ink. Understand?”

Dog Tag stared at her. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to go home.”

“He’ll break my neck,” she said, genuinely afraid. “And after last night…” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him in for a kiss. “I can’t think of a better place to be.”

Twenty minutes later Vincent was on the road again, Saline’s vest tucked in his saddlebag.





Chapter 11


Tina arrived at the café early and chose a booth next to the wall of windows near the entrance. For some reason she couldn’t get enough of the sunshine. As she reached to take a sip of her double-shot mochaccino, her mug started to vibrate on the table. A flash of chrome and black caught her attention. Vincent parked his motorcycle in a nearby spot and climbed off his bike. Half tempted to run outside and jump on the back of his Harley, she sighed as he crouched to tie his shoelace. Everything about him turned her on.

With his back facing her, she caught an eyeful of his luscious ass and powerful legs. And the club patches on his vest. Familiar with the configuration and what the patches represented, she really didn’t know how to feel. Sons of Odin was stitched in black thread on the top rocker. The logo patch in the center proffered Thor’s hammer on a sea of silver. The bottom rocker read Texas Born.

Women loved Texas men, and she adored this one, blessed with sex appeal and old-fashioned manners, more than any other she’d met. She grinned as he turned around and met her gaze. He hesitated for a moment, then raised his hand in greeting. She waved back, feeling a little silly and excited to see him again. If he needed to use her situation with Kline as an excuse to spend time together, so be it; she’d roll with it for now.

He approached the table. “Good afternoon.” Vincent didn’t attempt to mask his admiration of her outfit. “You get prettier every time I see you.”