Saints of the Syndicate by Natalie Nicole

Chapter 15

Declan

 

Jesus Christ.

My dick wants to spring to life with this strong willed woman in my arms. How in the ever-loving hell has she went through all this shit, including things we haven’t heard yet, but will once we gain her trust, and still fucking standing proud like its just another day of the week? It’s such a major fucking turn on that my dick continues to throb, so I have to nonchalantly adjust her in my arms so she doesn’t notice. I want, no, desire to sink my dick so deep in her that all her bad memories float away and all she can remember is good shit.

Her intoxicating personality and feisty attitude is quickly becoming a vice I don’t ever want to be rid of. Her will and grit to thrive, regardless of her environment, is a testament to what most could only pray for. She just naturally has that tenacity that turns me on like no other and makes me envious.

My thoughts get derailed when Gio hand signals ‘1-0-0’. Ah, so he is already in contact with someone about the prick that threatened her last year. Perfect. I nod in agreement, and glance over at Sinclair. His features are schooled, but his right hand is white knuckled in an attempt to control his demon. Just last night he killed someone over a similar, albeit more horrific situation. But that’s one situation that can easily tip the scales against his controlled way of living. Abuse of a woman is his absolute one rule, and he will have zero remorse over teaching someone a lesson about it, or flat out ending their life.

We have all become intensely and insanely infatuated with Bethani so quickly, and any threat against her, past or present, will be eradicated by us.

Finally, Sinclair motions ‘1-5-0’ quickly, upping the price to ensure the problem is solved. Gio just glances back to his phone to confirm the details and use our offshore and iron-clad secret account for payment. One giant perk of being in our positions is more money than we know what to do with. We also have many ways to ensure our situations get handled when we cannot do it ourselves.

“I’m surprised you guys haven’t bombarded me with a bunch of questions.”

“Plenty of questions, kitten. Figuring out which ones to ask is the real dilemma,” Sin states.

“You can ask any question you want, Sinclair, it's irrelevant. Whether I decide to answer or not is the actual dilemma,” she fires back. I can’t help but chuckle. Watching her verbally spar with Sin is pure entertainment, because he does not tolerate shit from anyone, save for G and myself. Even that’s debatable at best most days.

His arms cross over his chest, and he’s glaring at her with an intensity that I know is both rage at her continuous defiance and lust for the exact same reason. Giovanni and myself just sit back to enjoy the show unfolding in front of us, wondering who will win.

Sinclair adjusts, resting his arms on his thighs and steepling his hands together under his chin. His calm demeanor is a dead giveaway that he has a plan to best her. I’m curious to how it’s going to go, when he finally decides to speak.

“Why LA?” he asks.

Huh? Not what I would have asked. Where is he going with this?

Bethani shrugs in my arms. “Easy. Seattle is rainy. I wanted constant sunshine, and the ample opportunities there seemed like a good choice. Plus, I ran out of funds for the bus, and I wasn’t cutting into my food money to go farther.”

Sunshine, if I have my way that will never be an issue again.

“And the city was good to you?”

“I guess.”

“Elaborate, kitten,” he commands, and she huffs at it.

“Manners, Sinclair?”

He just rolls his eyes, but uncharacteristically complies. “Please elaborate, kitten. Better?”

B ignores his antagonizing. “Like I said, I lived at the homeless shelter the whole time, but made a few friends. I fell in love with the culture of the Latin district nearby, which is why I love Spanish food now. Had a part time job, so I didn’t have to rely on the shelter for everything. But it’s expensive there, so I wasn’t able to change my living situation. But it could have been worse. I also volunteered at the shelter as my payment for being there.”

Yet again, I’m blown away with her response. Also extremely humbled by it. While we have never wanted for anything in the aspect of frivolous things, she has had to suffer and fight for everything that was essential to living. We asked, we received. No questions asked. She probably had to beg and scrounge just for bites of food. But she does seem to share the similar broken home lifestyle we do. Shit for dick parents that are pretty much useless and unloving as fuck. Which has me wondering.

“You went hungry a lot didn’t you?” I ask.

I feel her tense a bit at my question. That’s all the answer I need, but she still replies.

“Yeah. I did. More than I feel comfortable letting any of you know. But that changed in LA.”

Giovanni still hasn’t said much since we sat down, but I can see by the concentration on his face that he is close to saying something. He is most likely holding back, because he is hacking whatever database he needs for information.

“While I would love to keep answering these questions, guys, I really need to start working on some class work. I've got an essay due Tuesday, and I need to hit the library. Plus, I still have to find all my stuff, since I have no idea where you put anything in the boxes.”

“Hold on,” Giovanni says, then he stands up and heads to his room quickly. He returns with a Mac box and iPhone box. “For you, sweetheart.” He sets them on her lap before setting back down.

B just looks down at the boxes in her lap momentarily before finally looking up. “Uhh…What are these for? I have a laptop and a phone already.”

Sinclair just snorts and mumbles, “Yeah, junk ones.” Which quickly pisses off Bethani.

“Well excuse me, cocksucker. I’m sorry my pedigree and bank account aren’t impressive enough for you. But I’m not fucking sorry that I can actually appreciate everything I have, unlike you, you arrogant spoiled bastard. Fuck this.”

She quickly stands up, dropping the boxes on the couch to leave, but Sinclair is quicker. He snatches her up and throws her over his shoulder.

“I never once condemned your situation, kitten. I’m just saying your shit it outdated as fuck, and you are lucky it still works. So knock off the bitch attitude.” Then smacks her ass, hard.

“Motherfucker! That hurt! Put me down!” she screams.

“You done being a bitch?”

“You done being a bossy asshole?” she mocks.

He smacks her ass again, but before he can react, Bethani grabs a hold of the waistband of his boxer briefs and yanks as hard, fast, and high as she can, giving him an atomic wedgie. Sinclair roars and drops to his knees, most likely from the pressure against his dick and balls, but also the chaffing Bethani has accomplished between his ass cheeks. She turns into a terrorist as soon as her feet hit the ground, and she pulls even harder, forcing Sinclair to his hands and knees completely. He’s cursing up a storm at the pain, before she releases the torn underwear. Then she shoves him on his side while he is retching from pain and trying not to puke.

“I will not put up with your shit, Sinclair. I’ve dealt with enough already, so knock it off, or the next time I’ll pull so hard your piercing tears out.”

That has G and myself groaning and cupping our dicks in defense, bringing her attention back to us.

“No shit from us, sunshine, promise. Just leave our piercings alone. Please,” I beg.

She blushes deep as shit when she remembers we all have our dicks pierced.

“Oh yeah…I forgot about that.” she mumbles, furthering her blush.

It’s cute as hell, but I’m staying leery of the tiny, curvy terror that is in front of us currently.

“Yeah, Tesoro. We all have our dicks pierced. But unlike Sin, we value our male anatomy. So why don’t you go get ready, and Declan and myself will escort you to the library. We have papers coming up too and need to study. Asshole there can lick his wounded pride in private.”

“Wait…we do?” I ask quizzically. Fuck me. What did I forget now?

G just stares at me for a second before looking towards the ceiling. “Gesù Cristo. Yes, Declan. We both have a paper due in Business Ethics 403. This right here is why we have the exact same schedule. Giuroche vivo con un bambinogigante.” Then runs his hand through his hair in frustration.

“A. English asshole. B. When is it due again?”

“Ten pages. Tuesday, dumbass.”

Whoops…yeah, forgot about that one. Standing up, I step over Sinclair, who is still on the ground. “Come on, sunshine. Guess it’s time to be studious or some boring shit like that.”

That has her giggling and itsthe sound music to my freaking ears. Then I run over to the freezer and grab a bag of peas before I return to Sin and drop them in front of him.

“Here ya go, fuck face. Figured your dick needs these more than G’s carba-whatever shit that tastes good as fuck. So you better replace them. It’s your week for groceries.”

“Fuck you, asshole. She broke my dick.”

“Cristo...it’scarbonara. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“And I’ll do it again asshole!” Bethani yells from the hallway, which makes Sin groan in pain.

I just walk away towards my room laughing at his pain, then shrug my shoulders at G. “Whatever it's called, I want that for dinner.”

“Uhh...just go grab your shit, and if you can actually accomplish something at the library, then maybe I’ll make it.”

I contemplate for a second then agree. “Fine. But when I prove your ass wrong and accomplish more than the bare minimum you have in mind, I’ll have more requests.”

“Deal.”

And that’s exactly what I do. After spending fifteen minutes in my room finding my shit, Gio, Bethani, and myself spend four mind fucking numbing hours in the god forsaken library working on our shit. But I both prove G wrong, and have a fan-fucking-tastic time flirting with Bethani like a god damn teenager with his first crush.

And when we get back, G makes a bomb ass chicken and bacon carbonara, homemade breadsticks, and somehow tiramisu. I eat like a fucking king alongside my crew and B, all while we berate a pissed off Sinclair.

For the first night in, well I have zero fucks clue as to how many, I go to sleep with a smile on my face and not an itch to numb myself with alcohol,  pills, or even weed.

I think I found my new favorite vice.