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

Chapter 30 (Beggar)

To say I settled in would be an understatement. A month to date since Zero left me in that barn without

even an ounce of regret.

Our lines were marked that day, he proved to me that all I was to him was a step-in.

He showed me that what we had between us was nothing compared to what he shared with Quinn and

I admitted to myself that day as I waited for him to return that I was not okay with that.

I told Killer what happened, and I also told him how I felt and he understood.

Killer held me that night and I made a promise to him and myself to not allow anybody to treat me like I

was less.

Killer knew me, even with the scars I hid from most of them in plain sight.

My training started shortly after, only I worked harder, pushed myself further.

Training under the watch full craziness of Spade and the eager eyes of Mercy, I have almost completed

my training as a Satan Sniper.

One step closer to actually earning some real money. A step closer to finally finishing what I started

years ago.

Mercy has been teaching me how to hunt, she says I am a natural hunter. I am good with tracking and

looking for clues which she calls marks.

Last week I was given my first task, which required me to learn the joy of google and fast internet

service which is called Fibre.

I had no idea people could be found so easily. The job was to collect anything on a Lance Grant. Since

then I have become a bit of an internet addict.

“So you think they'd let us go?” Den has been keeping me company since I started cleaning the

laundry room.

He is currently sitting on the washer while I fold the last bit of laundry. The room is big and has a

dishwasher, two driers, and three washers.

Two of them have packed up. The one he is sitting on across from the door is one of them.

I look up at the prospect who is around the same age as me. His eyes are currently the color of a

leopard's coat is stuck on my new phone I got yesterday.

Killer said it took the best pictures and Den told me that these ones with an apple on them are

expensive. River didn't comment when I mentioned what Den said over breakfast this morning.

I got snappy and banged the phone in front of him as he was the one who got it for me. Which is how I

ended up with extra chores for a week and an irritant Den who is getting ants in his pants from staying

under 'lock-down.

“Don't know, Hannah ain't allowed, so if the Prez says yes then Hannah is going to get pissed.”

I shrug when he lifts his head to face me in his 'what the fuck' look.

His spiked hair is sticking up in all directions like he just woke up, but I saw Chadley styling it for him

this morning when I was getting myself a cup of coffee.

I still need to get used to the blue hair he has going on. I can deal with the eyes.

The guy is smart, yet still green when it comes to life. He is the only one in the clubhouse who doesn't

wear their past like a second skin. Still, he talks a hell of a lot of languages, which is good for the club

but disastrous for me.

More so when Quinn starts talking and I tell her to shut up in Italian. Or the moments I curse Spade

when he makes me spar with After.

The woman never holds back. Mercy at least takes it easy on me. Jade, Whisp, Venus and Chadley

are no match for me, I could take them down in under six minutes.

So now I am stuck with After kicking my butt.

That reminds me that I have training in two hours, so I need to eat.

My fingers lock around the handles of the blue plastic basket filled with all the socks and underwear. I

balance it on my hips.

My plaited hair is over my shoulder and rests on top of the pile as I stand there and wait for Den who

jumps off the washer and hands me my phone.

I slip the device easily in my new jean pocket with my free hand as he opens the door, holding it open

for me to pass him.

It is thirty minutes later when I am finally done with my punishment. I go straight to the dining area

knowing Chadley made sweet buns and Custard slices today.

My steps falter when I see Killer, Knight, After and Venus all sitting around the left side of the big black

wooden stained table, with pictures scattered all over their side of it.

I spot the custard slices and rolls on the right and head straight to it.

Grabbing two custard slices I walk closer to them as I take a big bite of one of the slices. I bend over

Venus and look down to see the pictures which consist of a bunch of dead bodies.

“What happened?” I ask them before I slip the rest of the first slice in my mouth.

“This is the pictures from the sheriff's office, the work of a serial killer,” Killer answers, his attention still

stuck on the mass of photos, “we first thought it was Lucca, but just got new evidence we could be Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

looking at a trained killer gone rogue, grab a chair, I want you in on this.”

I don't question Killer's order.

The rules with me and the club haven't been put down in black and white. An unspoken one lingers- I

am with them for life. It was a deal Marco Catelli- the true head of The Famiglia, my cousin made with

the club's National President Ribs.

It was also the last order he gave to me when I lived with Kylie.