Zero and Beauty's Breath (A Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club Series Book 3 - 4)

Chapter 11 (Beggar)

There is no escaping it.

The Satan Snipers turned on me, they were unfamiliar friends and I didn't know what they would do.

I haven't survived this long taking easy roads.

Sometimes logic isn't easy, it mostly isn't the safe option, but in my case, it keeps you the fuck alive.

Surviving isn't just for me it is for her too, my little girl who never stood a chance.

So I turned to a familiar foe. A demon that I knew would hurt me, but not kill me just yet.

The window of the bedroom makes a creaking sound. My mind blanks as my senses heighten.

Lucca already found me. I should pray now, but I ain't never put my life in gods hands before.

I jerk upright and push Kylie off the bed. She unceremoniously falls with a big sound.

“Beggar, what the fuck sugar.”

“Quiet, somebody is by the window.”

I get up, rush toward the window as it opens and a black leather-ed covered leg comes in. Recognizing

the stranger, a familiar one, my mind, and shoulders both relax.

I know this devil that sneaks in the window.

He is an evil I trust. Someone who once laid next to me.

A man I didn't intend to see any time soon.

Killer stands there, in the dark. I should say he is right where he needs to be, hidden.

He once told me that his best place is in the darkest of corners. Kylie walks past me and switches on

the main light.

She is talking but her words are muted as the light comes on and all my focus is on Killer.

I imagined different scenarios of meeting Zero again. Seeing his face and hearing his voice, it always

ended with me killing him or he killing me.

Killer, I never imagined seeing him. Guess my mind knew it could be two ways, he'd either let me live

and protect me or he'd kill me.

Now he just stands there, his blank, dead eyes more pleasant than that of an unfamiliar smiling face.

I am not dead and he is why I am here, so I guess he will let me live. No gray lines, to him it is either

black or white.

It has been a while since I have seen any of the Satan Snipers.

Knowing Killer, if he wanted me dead I would have been a long time ago, after all he knew what I was

going to do before I even did. It is why I'm here, in Kylie Bray's house, safe for now.

I walk a few steps closer to Killer.

I don't know what to say to him, Kylie doesn't have the same problem,

"I knew you gonna come, why didn't you just take the front door, you could've saved me a butt injury."

She says this as she rubs her butt.

The shorts she is wearing doesn't do much to cover it.

“Where's Vincent?” Killer asks her.

“He left this afternoon, I don't see him coming back today, why didn't you just take the door.”

Killer walks past me and hugs Kylie. He looks good , guess he always had.

His blue eyes stare at me with so much words unsaid and I am certain mine say the same.

"I told you I was coming, I prefer the window, doors are too human,” he says to Kylie and still his eyes

are stuck on me. Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Why is he looking at me like that? The last time Killer looked at me with such intensity was the first day

I arrived at the Satan Sniper's Clubhouse.

I was much more caged then. I was living and breathing my nightmare of Lucca and his men.

For some reason, since I got here and healed, my nightmares aren't just stemmed from Lucca, but

from Zero.

I should say something about now, but the words just don't want to come. He is really here.

“I didn't know you were coming,” My scratchy voice still gets me, even as my words finally decide to

start working.

He doesn't smile, there isn't anything worth smiling for.

He has always given me his true self. He is one of the very few people I consider a friend.

Not sure what I am to him, it's a fucked up friendship.

I can't really say I know Killer, I've only met him four months ago.

What I do know is that Killer doesn't show emotion. I thought I saw deep glimpses of it when his

brother's son, Aron was around and the few nights he slept in my bed.

I was wrong, a few days after that I saw him on the side of the Clubhouse with one of the bikers, he

smiled at the guy but I knew it was false, fake. One meant to lure a woman into a false sense of poetic

fiction and a man to his ultimate death.

“If you knew I was coming I wouldn't be standing in front of you right now.”

His brutally honest answer is also the honest truth, I would've been gone.

Facing Killer is facing up to what I did all those months ago. It is facing the club which means Zero too.

I am not sure if I am ready for that. I can admit that I am a coward. Confrontations aren't my thing. My

whole life I have lived on the streets. Talking wasn't necessary besides asking for food or a buck.

“You in front of Kylie, I am standing behind Kylie.” I tell him as my head tilts to the side.

“Well, looks like she has a point,” Kylie says as she takes a step to the right to turn and face us both.

He pulls off his black gloves, and ruffles his blonde hair,

“I heard you got beaten up, then took off. Hope you used a few of my moves and took a lot of those

fuckers down.”

I did, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I go back to my side of the bed.

The white headboard with pearls embedded in a heart shape catches my eyes for the millionth time.

Kylie said this room was Diamonds.

“How was the ride, Michael was bitching up a storm about his darn jet. I was hoping he would just shut

up,”

Kylie questions killer as she joins me on the bed, sitting on the edge parallel from me as Killer walks

across the room in long strides.

His leather-ed covered body, with his cut, and striking blue eyes sticks out, leaving this weird sensation

in my body.

This, now, it is like almost surreal.

He pulls the white and blue chair that resembles one of those royalty chairs I saw once outside a

furniture shop not too far from here. He brings the chair and puts it between Kylie and I.

“So what's with all the pearl hearts and shit in this room, I thought you hate pearls,” he questions Kylie.

I watch her brown gaze track the headboard and the pearly night-lamp next to where I sit with my back

hunched and feet on the gray carpeted floor.

There is so much more to Kylie, where Killer is emotionless, Kylie is so full of it that it overflows. Yet,

she only lets it out when she knows no one is around to see it, I have caught it a few times.

I am not surprised when she starts pulling her hair tie out of her hair and reties it.

She does that at times, a tell. And I am not surprised when she gets up and smiles at Killer with the

same false smile he gives to people.

“It came with the bed, made sense. I need to get some assignments done.”

We all lie, but it's the reason we do it which counts.

Killer and I both watch Kylie leave. She has become something to me, akin to a sister. She is the

longest person I have lived with since my mother and while I am many things, since I have arrived

here, Kylie has shown me that I am also human.

Money, or no money, it doesn't make you bleed any more or less.

The door closes and my eyes leave the white door, focusing on the one other person in this room. Killer

pulls a small white envelope from the inside of his cut

“I've already read it,” he says handing me the envelope.

I don't need to ask him any questions, truth is I don't want to.

I don't need to find out the answers to those unasked questions as I already know who it's from.

We both know what this letter is going to say. I don't need the letter to say a word. The day I left the

Clubhouse, Zero's eyes said it all.

“We got a new President.”

“Did Rounder die?” Rounder was the president I knew. A sick man, dying of cancer.

He accepted me into their motorcycle club and insisted everybody treated me as an equal.

His intentions were good but I found myself liking the ones who didn't fake it .The people in the club

who liked me, and the ones who didn't and made it known.

Falseness was never something I trusted. Still don't.

“No, the men finally got their balls back and voted him out. River a member from National took his

place. The club is doing better.”

“You mean nobody is falling on your fist.”

“There's always people falling on my fist, today some fucker is getting a break, tomorrow they would be

falling again.”

I bite the bottom of my lip to hold the laugh I really want to have now.

I put the letter in my hand onto the nightstand next to the bed. My eyes don't look at it. Instead I find

some of that happiness with Killer here, the glee people seem to have at times.

And it is like those days spent with Killer in his room, that we talk about nothing, yet everything at the

same time.

Only know I am not just Beggar, but a little human too.