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

Chapter 38 (Sienna)

He shocks me when he sits behind me, legs open, wedging me between them. I bend my own legs,

and cross them, readying myself to get up. And I manage it until his one leg swipes under my feet, so

swift and smooth, that I fall and he catches me with his arm around my waist, cradling me in his lap.

His eyes are fucking beautiful, he has that Orniel blue eyes. It looks like an electric blue.

“Finish throw your tantrum?” He asks.

“I’m sorry.” It takes a lot for me to say that, but not a lot for him to accept it, when his lips twitch.

“I don’t mind it when we’re alone. It makes you wild and shameless, and that is the Sienna I know.”

I nod my head in understanding, “I shouldn’t have said it in front of the guys and women.”

He gives me a contemplative look be his one finger touches lightly on my nose, “Yes, which is why I

have to punish you. I can’t be showing you preferential treatment over everyone else. My baby mama

or not.”

I quirk at the baby mama comment, until I digest the other part, “Wait what?”

His face shows an amused look, “You heard me.”

“Maybe I am deaf, because what I think I heard and what you think I heard must be different.”

He now full on smiles, “What I think you heard and what you think you heard is what you heard,

darling.”

I try to sit up, but mister has other plans when he puts his hand on my stomach.

“I like you like this. Soon you’d be pregnant with my spawn, I won’t have this for a while.”

I laugh.

“I am fucking glad I married you, Sienna.”

“I am too Kevin.”

Deno’s warning sizzles in my head, frying away the healthy thoughts and leaving all the grime behind.

He left me a wedding message this morning.

If you don’t leave soon, you’d put the entire club at risk, and Kaleb in danger. Killer will never forgive

you if he found out what you did. Leave Sienna, we’ll protect you and Killer will keep the rest safe while

we finish this.

I brush the thought aside as Killer sits on the floor rummaging through the toys. Shaking my head, I

head outside to pick up the blanket we put on the porch. Knight is standing by the main gate with Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Mercy. Mercy waves showing me thumbs up, and Knight pushes her chest in a playful manner. Mercy

calls me closer, and I run toward the gate.

I topple over my feet, as the first hit goes straight to my stomach. My arm is knocked back by the

second hit, my leg goes down with the third.

I have pictured my death in every scenario.

Falling off a cliff been the unlikeliest way I would die. I was so scared of heights there was not one thing

about it I would consider funny. Growing up, my Uncle knew taking me on a plane anywhere would not

happen without some serious Sienna tantrum. So he braced himself for days in advance before we left.

And then, too, I ended up either on a boat, in a car, or staying behind. So dying by falling off a cliff,

building or anything with height was not happening. And I loved myself way too much to even consider

changing that.

Getting eaten by a shark was an impossibility since I didn’t skirt the ocean’s waters regularly on any

basis. I kept to the safe parts of the beach and mostly just let the water wash over me from the safe

side of the shore.

A car knocking me whilst I ran across the road was the silliest way I could die, and also not a possibility

I would have considered. Seen as I lived in an enormous house most of my life in a small stuck up town

called Liston Hills designed solely for the wealthiest people and their rich stuck up kids. They never

saw me walking on the road, besides the distance it took me to get to my motorbike, or car.

Choking on chocolate cake? Yes, I could die like that, I devoured a lot of cake and my ass showed just

how much of it I ate. Running until my limbs fell apart? It was a possibility. I ran a lot, that however did

not show anywhere on my body. Maybe getting killed was the best option. That happened a lot to me,

considering I was never the one they wanted. And last, falling off my motorbike would not happen in the

near future since my bike now sat at my uncle’s penthouse in Washington.

Over the last 28 years of my existence, I have imagined every likely way I could die. Old age, not one

of them because I knew death wanted me sooner. I was too wild not to accept an invitation.

And an invitation I accepted the day I chose to choose Harlin’s life over mine. I can’t say I regret it,

because blood wasn’t what made us sisters. It was the love in my heart. These passing months were

my small bit of borrowed time. God’s gift to an orphaned child. It was more than I had hoped for and

although I didn’t see this day, I knew it would come.

The blood drips out of my mouth, and the Sun shines so fucking bright it brings tears in my eyes. His

face, his arm under me, I can feel him all around me looking at me.

“Don’t leave me darlin’ please no. Sienna,”

“I bet momma sees me now doesn’t she,” I cough out the liquid.

“She’s ain’t liking what she’s seeing sweetheart. Please, hang in there.”

“Under the bed,” I say to him as I try to lift my hand just one last time. I knew before I died I would have

to give him closure. I hope he gets it and moves on.

I never knew how my end would come, but a sinner dying in the arms of a soldier was a good way to

go.

NB. Thank you so much for reading Killer's story. Part 2 will be coming early June, so watch this

spot.