Page 18 of Twister’s Salvation (Saint’s Outlaws MC: Madison, WI #1)

Tempi

I should’ve been tired.

After everything that went down last night, my body should’ve felt like it’d been through the wringer. But instead? I felt… light. The kind of light that came from doing something wild and not regretting a single second of it.

Twister had been a distraction. A big one. One with strong hands and a mouth that made me forget my own name.

But he was also exactly what I needed.

I padded through the bar in my slippers, with the morning light slanting through the front windows and catching the dust motes in the air. Halestorm was blaring from the jukebox, with the volume turned up just loud enough to make it feel like the world couldn’t touch me in here. Not today.

I danced behind the bar, rag in hand, wiped down the counters, and hummed along to I Miss the Misery. My hips swayed with the music, and I didn't care if anyone walked in and saw me. This was my space. My bar. My rules.

And right now, my rule was to dance like no one’s watching and revel in knowing I had the hottest night of my life less than six hours ago.

I spun in place, tossed a towel onto my shoulder, and grabbed a stack of clean glasses. I lined them up with more precision than necessary, but my brain was buzzing too much to care. I couldn’t stop replaying everything. His hands. His mouth. The way he’d said my name like it was something precious.

A creak echoed from the stairs.

I froze mid-dance move, and my eyes darted to the doorway leading to the apartment upstairs.

Heavy footsteps.

A second later, Twister appeared, dressed and shrugging into his cut like some kind of outlaw god just descending into my little world.

My heart stuttered.

He looked like sin and salvation all at once.

“Woke up alone,”

he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

I turned back to the bar with a smirk as I wiped the counter.

“I would’ve been able to lay in bed with you if someone would’ve cleaned up the bar last night.”

He chuckled, and it rumbled low in his chest. The sound slid over my skin like a warm palm.

“You saying I was a distraction, doll?”

“Massive one,” I teased.

He rounded the bar and didn’t stop until he was right in front of me. His arms looped around my waist, and he pulled me close.

“I regret nothing,”

he whispered.

And then his mouth was on mine.

God, he kissed like he meant it. Like he didn’t care if the sun rose or the world ended, as long as I kept kissing him back.

I did.

My arms slid around his neck, and his hands gripped my hips. We pressed against each other. Our tongues tangled, and our hearts raced. My back hit the bar, and he leaned into me, his mouth devouring mine until I had no thoughts left. Just heat.

We pulled back, breathless.

“Now that,”

he murmured as he brushed his nose against mine, “is the kind of good morning I was looking for.”

I laughed, and my breath was shaky.

“I still need to finish cleaning up.”

He pressed one last kiss to my lips.

“Then I’ll leave you to it, doll. I need to get back to the clubhouse and figure some things out.”

I sobered.

“Like the brick flying through your window?”

His jaw tightened. “Yeah,”

he said.

“I’m sure it’s Nick and Frank being assholes. We’re gonna pay them a visit.”

I frowned.

“I just don’t see them doing that. It feels… off.”

He studied me.

“You really think you know those two tools?”

I shrugged.

“I mean, no, we’re not doing shots and spilling secrets, but I wouldn’t peg them for throwing bricks through windows either.”

He scoffed.

“I hope for your sake we find out Nick and Frank aren’t behind it.”

I reached up and cupped his cheek. I pressed a kiss to his lips. “Me too.”

I knew that Twister would figure out whoever was behind it and take care of it.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped at the screen.

“Give me your number, doll. I’ll call you later.”

I rattled it off, and he punched it in.

“Later, doll.”

Then he walked toward the front door but stopped when something on the ground caught his eye. He bent down and picked it up.

“You dropped this?”

I wiped my hands on the towel and tilted my head.

“Um, no. I would’ve seen it when I swept earlier.”

He turned it over in his hands.

“Then what the hell is this?”

My stomach flipped. I walked around the bar and joined him at the door. “Open it.”

It wasn’t anything that was mine.

He didn’t hesitate; he tore the envelope open and pulled out a ripped piece of paper.

His jaw clenched as he read aloud.

“You made your choice. Ready for the consequences?”

My blood went cold.

“Oh my god,”

I whispered.

I snatched the note from him and read it again.

“What choice did I make?”

I breathed, as my fingers trembled slightly.

His voice was rough.

“Me, doll.”

He took the paper from my hand and shoved it into his cut’s inner pocket. Then he was dialing again. He stepped toward the windows, his back rigid.

“Send two guys to the Den. Now.”

He ended the call without another word.

“What was that about?” I asked.

Twister turned to me and pulled me into his arms. I let him. I was confused and scared, and being with Twister was the only thing that made sense.

His arms wrapped around me tight, like he was trying to shield me from the world.

“Until we figure out what this note means, doll, you’re not going to be alone. If I can’t be with you, one of my guys will.”

I rolled my eyes, though my chest felt heavy.

“I think you’re overreacting a little. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

He looked down at me, serious as hell.

“Yeah? I thought the same thing before our window got smashed.”

I bit my lip.

He had a point. And while my gut said this was just someone being a jackass, I couldn’t shake the ice that had crept into my veins when I read that note.

“Where are you going if two of your guys are headed down here?”

He kissed me softly.

“To find out who sent the damn thing.”

A knock rattled the door.

Twister turned and pulled it open. Swift and Gramps were standing there, both of them scowling.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Swift asked as they stepped inside.

Twister nodded for them to follow him toward the bar. He filled them in, fast and clipped, about the note and what it said.

Gramps’ face darkened. Swift’s jaw worked like he was grinding his molars to dust.

“I’m taking Wheels, Hodge, and Podge with me,”

Twister said.

“We’re gonna go have a nice little chat with Nick and Frank.”

I blinked. Podge? Hodge?

I filed the names away for later. They sounded like cartoon characters, not bikers.

“Gramps is staying,”

Twister added.

“Swift, you too.”

Gramps nodded and slid onto a barstool like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“I don’t want her alone, not for a second,”

Twister said.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My head was swimming. This was all too much, too fast.

Twister turned back to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me close.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can be, doll. Swift and Gramps will make sure nothing happens to you.”

I nodded slowly.

“Um… okay. But who’s going to make sure you’re okay?”

That earned me a chuckle from both Swift and Gramps.

“That’s why he’s taking Hodge and Podge with him, sweetheart,”

Swift said.

“Nothing can get past those two hardasses.”

“They’ve got that twin telepathy shit,”

Gramps added.

My eyes widened.

“They’re brothers?”

Twister nodded.

“Yeah. Swift and Gramps can give you the rundown on everyone while I’m gone. That’ll be your entertainment.”

I wasn’t sure I could handle entertainment right now. My brain felt like it had been dropped in a blender.

I looked up at Twister.

This man I hadn’t known that long, and yet…

“Promise you’ll be careful?”

I asked softly.

He nodded, pressed one last kiss to my lips, then whispered, “I’ll come back to you.”

Then he was gone; the door clicked shut behind him.

The silence that followed felt deafening.

Gramps slid onto a barstool and leaned on the bar.

“What do you need to know, sweetheart?”

I blinked.

Guess it was time to hear some stories.

My eyes drifted to the front door.

And the empty space Twister had just left behind.

“We might as well start with you,”

I said, leaning on the bar with a smirk.

“Why do they call you Gramps?”

Gramps tilted his head with an amused glint in his eye, sharpening.

“You good if I grab a drink?”

Swift cut in as he stepped behind the bar like he’d done it a hundred times before.

I waved him off casually.

“Help yourself.”

It was weird sitting on this side of the bar with someone else behind it. I was used to running the show, not lounging like a customer. Swift moved with ease, like he’d done this before. He scanned the fridge behind the bar.

“Snacks?”

he asked and grinned like a kid who knew he was pushing his luck.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out.

“There should be some cheese curds and beef sticks in there. Help yourself.”

He yanked the fridge open, rummaged through cans and condiment tubs before pulling out two packages and holding them up like treasure.

Gramps chuckled beside me.

“I’m old, sweetheart. Gramps is pretty self-explanatory, isn’t it?”

I gave him a once-over and raised an eyebrow.

“You can’t be more than fifty.”

Gramps barked out a laugh, low and rough like gravel.

“I’ll let you keep thinking that.”

Swift dropped the beef sticks and cheese curds onto the bar with a thud and ripped open the packaging. I reached in and grabbed a cheese curd and tossed it in my mouth. Salt and a hit of nostalgia filled my senses.

“What about you?”

I asked and pointed at Swift with a beef stick.

He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

“I’m just fucking fast, Tempi. Whether it’s on my bike, in a car, or even on fucking foot.”

“Well, that makes sense.”

I snorted.

“These two names I can wrap my head around,”

I muttered.

“What are some of the other guys’?”

Swift leaned an elbow on the bar, chewing thoughtfully.

“Rev is the chaplain. Was a reverend before he took up the club.”

My jaw actually dropped a little. “Really?”

Gramps let out another chuckle.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Though that’s about all any of us know.”

A reverend turned outlaw biker? That was a story I didn’t expect. My brain immediately started pulling possible reasons: scandal, loss of faith, maybe revenge. Something dark had to be buried in there.

Swift grinned at my expression.

“I can see you trying to figure him out, Tempi, and I doubt you’ll ever get the answer. We’ve been trying a while.”

I shook my head slowly, still chewing, still thinking.

“That’s wild.”

Gramps grabbed a beef stick and leaned back on the stool like we were just shooting the shit on a lazy afternoon.

“The club’s full of stories like that.”

It hit me then just how much I didn’t know about these guys. They moved like a unit, tight and quiet, but there were layers under all that leather and ink. And I was only starting to scratch the surface.

“How did you guys all get to be… here?”

I asked, motioning around the bar, the city, everything.

Gramps traded a glance with Swift, then shrugged.

“We were all nomads for the Saint’s Outlaws,”

Swift said, and leaned his hip against the bar.

“Didn’t have a home charter, but we were patched in. Rode where the club needed us. Twister and I’ve known each other since we were kids and always stuck together. I knew he wanted to start his own chapter someday. Shit lined up right, and Madison was it.”

I leaned in, hanging on the pieces of their story he handed me.

“The rest of the guys? We knew ‘em from the road. Years of riding, running jobs, helping out other chapters. Word got out that Twister was settling down, planting roots, and one by one, they called in and asked where to show up.”

Gramps smiled faintly.

“We figured out the ranks, recruited a couple of prospects, and hauled our asses here once the ink dried on the building papers.”

I blinked.

“Wait, you guys bought the Sam James building?”

“That we did,”

Gramps said, his tone light, but there was pride there.

“Twister did, to be exact.”

I blinked again. Twice. “Wow.”

That place had been sitting empty for years, but the bones were solid, and downtown real estate wasn’t exactly on clearance.

Gramps caught the look on my face and laughed.

“You gotta get a better poker face, sweetheart. You’re gonna have to talk to Twister about how he managed that one.”

I smirked.

“Am I also going to have to ask him how he got his name?”

Swift didn’t miss a beat. “Yup.”

I popped another cheese curd into my mouth and chewed slowly as I side-eyed the both of them. The list of things I didn’t know about Twister was growing by the second. And so far? Every answer only made me want more.

Maybe I didn’t know him at all yet.

But I was starting to really want to.