Saving Glory (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club Book 4) by Paula Marinaro Page A

You’re perfect, just great, better all the time .” Hal’s tone mocked her.
    Glory raised an insulted eyebrow.
    “I pay attention, little sister. Those words have been coming outta your mouth for a long time now. Too long. And after the hell you’ve been through, we both know that just ain’t true. I’m working on finding my way back, and you’ve got to do the same.” He looked at her long and hard.
    “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.” Glory shook her head. And when her brother crossed his arms and waited, she felt her heart sink in dismay and her face redden in embarrassment. She thought that she had done a great job of hiding her feelings. Feelings that she wasn’t ready to face herself, let alone discuss them. But now her brother seemed hell bent on calling her out.
    “Really?” Hal clearly knew that look. “You gonna make me say it?”
    Glory fought the sudden urge to cover his mouth in duct tape.
    He snorted out and threw up his hands. “Maybe I got a fucked up eye, but I can still see, and my hearing is as sharp as shit. So I’m not missing that every time a bike roars past here, you hold your breath until it’s gone by. Or the fact that in the few damn times we’ve gone out, you drive five miles out of your way to avoid the entrance to the Saints compound. You don’t cook anymore, even though you’ve got a state of the art kitchen right here in front of you. You sleep less than I do. I know what’s haunting me. But what I want to know, little sister, is what the fuck is haunting you?”
    When Glory placed a small hand on her hip, lifted her chin and stayed resolutely silent, Hal muttered angrily underneath his breath, walked across the kitchen and slammed the door behind him.
    *****
    Well, that’s gratitude for you , was Glory’s first thought was she heard the engine of the old car sputter then roar to life.
    A flash of pain drummed into Glory’s temples and her hand shook slightly as she reached for the pot and poured herself another cup of the hot, strong coffee. Then she pulled open the cabinet below the sink and poured a healthy shot of whiskey into the mug.
    Hovering . He made her sound like one of those damn helicopter moms. And that was totally unfair.
    She did not hover .
    She—uh—well, she wasn’t sure what she did, but it was not hovering, or spying.
    It was more along the lines of—a jumble of verbs ran through her head before she settled on hiding. Glory grimaced as she conceded the painful truth to herself. She would be damned if she would admit it to Hal, but she knew the truth when it bit her on the nose, she had been hiding.
    From Jules.
    The fact of it was that her brother’s isolation had really not been self-imposed at all. She had been keeping Hal hostage at the lake house with her because she couldn’t face a chance run in with him . The confused emotions that rose up whenever she thought of Jules were making her a prisoner of their own design and she honestly had no idea how to set herself free.
    There was absolutely nothing she wanted more than to see Jules Bonny.
    And there was absolutely nothing she wanted less.
    Glory knew that it was only a matter of time before she ran into him, but she was absolutely doing her best to make sure that it didn’t happen until she was ready. The way she looked at it, that first meeting with him would set the tone for the rest.
    She just had not figured out when the right moment would be.
    So she was going to bide her time at home until she felt ready to face the emotions that seeing him again would unveil.
    Unless he had changed dramatically, Jules was and probably always would be a creature of habit. Glory had learned early on that Jules could be intractable to a fault and that included his weekly routine.
    He was a wash your clothes on Monday, pay your bills on Tuesday, buy your groceries on Wednesday kind of guy. He stopped at the same coffee shop every Friday morning for his weekly quarter pound of dark