Killer (The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club book 5)

Chapter 26 (Sienna)

“I was hoping to go back to Liston Hills and see dad.” Her face drops and Frost’s face gets a pinched

look.

“We are trying everything to get that shit sorted, but situations like that don’t dissolve overnight,” Frost

tells her.

“You can train with Spade and myself,” Killer suggests, and that somehow makes my entire body burn

with some unknown emotion.

Or better yet, an emotion I know well, but not say. It is crazy how old habits fall into place when the four

of us are all together.

The only difference is now, I’m not the only one with a tainted past, we are all bit banged up on the

inside. And Kevin Stone is no longer the subject of my affections, no he is definitely not that.

Her face lifts, and she smiles, “Sounds good,”

Killer puts the empty bottle down and lifts Kaleb to his chest to break his wind. After is about to tell him

to use the towel but I nudge her and she coughs.

Kaleb breaks wind and spews on Killer’s shirt, wetting his chest with breast milk. He lifts Kaleb up and

puts him on the other side. Natasha gets the towel and pats his chest, but his other hand holds her

wrist from dabbing him.

“Leave it,” His voice is cold and After stiffens next to me.

“Why must you be a dick all the time,” Frost says, as she takes a beer from Bull.

Bull passes me a Fanta and I am not sure why I do it, but I shake the thing and open it, so it sprays

Killer, Natasha, Jade and Bull. Natasha squeals, laughing and Killer shakes his head getting up with

Kaleb who got some cool drink on his legs. Oops.

Killer walks with Kaleb to the river and I get up, listening to After and Frost laugh their asses off.

I take the towel from Natasha and head to the river, following Killer.

“Oh, come on, it was funny, loosen up,” I tell him as I bend down and dip the edge of the towel in water.

He puts Kaleb’s legs in the water and I move closer to him to clean my boy’s face.

“And what about mine?” Killer asks as he takes his glasses off. His eyes are a dream, and his chiseled

face carved from stone. His surname definitely suits him. My mother used to tell, the Stones had stone

hearts, and they were hard right until the center. You couldn’t break them, you had to chisel your way

through and hope they eventually crumbled, or else you were out of luck.

“There you go,” I hand him the towel. He shakes his head.

“I have Kaleb, and you did this, not me,” Killer says. And my nerves go from mildly high to exploding in

an overflowing fountain of nerves.

I lift the towel and wipe the orange liquid off his face. It’s intimate for me, and I look at his neck instead

of his face, hoping everyone isn’t watching us.

“Sienna,” Killer whispers, like a breath, and I glance up at him, my mouth parts, and just for a moment I

convince myself he is just a normal man.

We stare at each other and he never blinks, and the moment is intense that I shove the towel in his

hand and walk away. Because in reality, Kevin Stone is no normal man, he is born to be a killer, a

major part about him I should not forget.

“We leaving in 10, get dressed,” Killer orders me, as I walk to the others.

Frost throws me her keys for her bike and I catch it. Her face looks almost pensive, but she says

nothing.

I take over 10 minutes to add on a jean, pee and get a biker jacket. I grab Frosts helmet from the shelf

on my way out.

My ass sits nicely onto her super bike, waiting for Killer. He shows up seconds later with a new t-shirt

that’s identical to the one he had on. I turn my head so he doesn’t think I’m checking him out.

“You ready to ride Sin?” He hardly calls me Sin, but coming from Killer it means more to me since he

was the reason the nickname stayed.

“When you are.” I slip my helmet on and lift the shield up. I slip the biker gloves on, picking my left foot

up, turn the key and enjoy the blissful feel of the rumble and vibration of the bike as it roars with life.

Killer does the same, and I let him lead as I follow closely behind him. He signals a left turn when we

get to the Clubhouse gates.

I turn with him, and we build our speed on the open road. I go faster, as the familiarity of the bike and

the feel of freedom fills me up.

We ride, and he turns his head to check on me. The faster Killer goes, the faster I follow. The roads are

wide and we push harder.

It has been a while since I felt my smile so wide, as my heart galloped in awe and my body moved with

a machine. We ride for a good hour. Killer signals me to take the next turnoff and I drop my speed,

following him.

We ride along a bumpy road. Trees and greenery blind the dirt road from the main road. Killer slows

down when we get to what looks like an abandoned bus stop and an entrance to the forest. I park next

to him and wait to see if he wants to get off. When he swings his leg over his bike, I take my gloves off

first and then my helmet.

I steady the bike as I swing my leg off.

He stands there and lifts his head up to the sky before he stretches.

I put my helmet on the seat and wait for Killer. The old man comment is on the tip of my tongue, but I

bite the words down. I PROMISED myself to keep snipes in my head.

“Where are we going?” I ask him, choosing not to look too closely at his flesh showing above his pants.

“A swim,” He lifts his satchel and produces a towel and a bottle of frozen water.

“And the bikes?” I question. If Frost’s bike went missing, she’ll have my head on a platter for dinner.

“Bikes are good here. No one comes this side. I’ll show you why, come on.” He slips his glasses on and

goes into the open forest. I follow him and see the long walkway.

“This place used to be a hiking trail back in the day, but years ago a few women got killed here. Look at

the white stones over there,” He points to a small stack of stones, and my heart constricts for those

women.

“So the town marked it as a dead zone. The Club bought this land so it won’t be sanctioned off.”

“Why would they do that? I hope you guys aren’t going to cut these trees down.”

“No, we going to turn it into a small water park and camp for the kids. Come on, you’re dawdling.” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“I’m wearing biker boots and I’m still carrying wait from my pregnancy.”

“Stop whining, you look great.” I wisely say nothing to his comment and pick up my slow pace.

We get to the bottom and I spot the rocks and start of a lake. He holds out his hand and I take it when

we get to a steep drop. I trample on the rocks following him as walks to the other side of the lake’s bed.

There is a good patch of sand and I wipe the sweat off my face as Killer sits down and starts pulling his

boots off.

“Takeout your clothes. Let’s get in,” He looks at my body as he takes his glasses off. I’m nervous as

fuck, because I haven’t seen Killer without a shirt on since he was a 20-year-old.

And he has definitely filled out since then. And I still have a bit of a pouch. My stitches dissolved and

my period stopped, so I didn’t really have an excuse.