Saint: A Dark Romance (Saint and Sinners Book 1)

by Ruby Vincent

  My silent fighter came to me.

  I was weak from Sinjin’s relentless pumping. I had to climb up his legs and unzip him. Brutal knelt to give me better access.

  Taking him in my hand, I swallowed him whole.

  My head bobbed up and down. Faster and faster. Cheeks caving in to suck those intoxicating grunts and groans as an extra treat.

  I loved that I could make him utter those noises. I loved that he spoke more words to me in the last month than he did to others he’d known for years. I loved his fingers tangled in my hair, and Sinjin at my back.

  I sensed him getting close. Picking up the pace, I relaxed my throat and accepted everything he had to give me.

  A sharp hiss sounded over him.

  “Damn,” said Mercer. “This is not how I saw my night going.”

  I pulled up with a “pop.”

  “What? Is this more a Tuesday night deal for you?” I teased.

  “Yes,” he said, grinning. “But on Tuesday night, I’m not standing on the sidelines.”

  “No one said you had to.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” He pulled up his pants—the remains of his temptation on the floor. “Corbin here just gave me homework and it won’t get done if I spend another second feasting on you.”

  I opened my mouth to reply. Brutal fisted my hair and guided his cock inside. The man didn’t need to speak to make his wants known.

  Mercer left us to it.

  I WOKE EARLY THE NEXT morning. Alone in Sinjin’s bed. Ten points for guessing where he was.

  Downstairs having a conversation with Corbin.

  Naked, I picked his shirt off the floor, shrugged it on, and padded out of the room.

  I gave Sinjin the green light to put me on my knees in front of the guys, and spent half the night getting thoroughly fucked in both holes. At this point, I could dispense with the modesty.

  Cash parked at our new dining table with his laptop and binder.

  “Morning.”

  He grunted in my direction.

  “I feel like cooking something different today,” I mused. “What do you think of chocolate crepes with maple ricotta and mixed berries?”

  “Steak, eggs, and toast for me.”

  “You have that almost every day. At least try my crepes. I swear you won’t want anything else after.”

  I got another grunt in response.

  I sidled up to him, peering over his shoulder. “What are you doing anyway?”

  “What are you doing? Put some fucking clothes on.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You may have Sinjin, Brutal, and even Mercer eating out of your palm, but you’re not playing your dangle game with me.”

  “How can you say that after—?”

  “After what?” He shifted from the laptop, giving me a look that blew through the stern and sank my happy ship. “Nothing’s changed between me and you. Clothes, steak, eggs, toast. Now.”

  “Asshole.” I stomped upstairs and dressed. “I’m not making two breakfasts,” I snapped on my return. “You can eat my damn crepes and like it.”

  “Stop shouting and listen,” Cash said. “The sisters who got away, Ilona and Jazmin Kepes, they’re fine. They made it to the Hungarian embassy.”

  “They did?” My irritation was forgotten. “How do you know?”

  “I put Diego on finding them. Checking shelters, hospitals, and clinics. He found a shelter on Lumen Street that took in two girls that night. Thirteen and eight years old. They were taken to the embassy today.”

  I released a breath I’d been holding for a week. “I’m so glad they’re okay. I couldn’t sleep thinking of them out there on the streets.”

  “Now for the Castian Hotel,” he said. “I checked out the website.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “He wasn’t lying about one thing at least. You can’t make a booking. I tried three times with three random dates and got ‘fully booked’ each time. On the fourth try, the system said there was an error and to try again another time. Any legitimate customer would’ve given up and booked with another hotel. It’s effective for keeping people away.”

  I tossed my head, eyes rolling skyward. “So there really is a hotel in the middle of our city where Corbin runs his sex-trafficking nightmare under everyone’s nose.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “What do we do now? Those ‘website’ customers don’t have to wait for an auction to get to those kids. We have to get them out as soon as possible.”

  “I agree,” he said. “Waiting’s a bad idea for many reasons. This hotel is four floors and in the heart of Harlow. There’s a crew in there keeping up appearances. If one of them swings by the club, finds a room full of bodies, and can’t reach the boss, they might panic. Assume Angelo discovered they were cheating him out of thousands and doled out punishment. We can’t risk them packing up shop.”

  “If they move the kids, we may never find them.”

  “No, Redgrave.” It was unsettling the times his eyes held no emotion. It was worse when they did. “They won’t run off with thirty life sentences in the back seat. If they’re burned, they will kill those kids and run.”

  His words were a punch in the gut, forcing the air from my lungs. “Cash, we can’t wait any longer.”

  “I know. Tonight. We take down the Castian Hotel.”

  I TOLD THE GUYS I WANTED in on what they do. Made promises to Sinjin that pleased him to no end.

  But the truth is, I had no clue what my part in this was.

  Cash’s announcement that we must strike wasn’t a call to action for me. I stood in my kitchen making crepes and all around staying out of the way as the boys streamed in and out.

  Cash barked orders into his phone all morning, relaying to his men who would be going in with us, the weapons to bring, a warning it was a hotel full of children, and why those children were there.

  Mercer’s homework wasn’t clear to me. It seemed his only job was to pace along the upstairs banister and chat with various people while wearing that devil-may-care grin. As for Brutal, he had no orders to give, though I heard him in his bedroom pummeling his freestanding punching bag.

  Then there was Sinjin. My Saint. Coming in and out of the basement wearing blood like face paint.

  “Cameras on every entrance. A bellhop that stops you at the door and double checks identity,” he said on his last stop. “Four bellhops actually. Loitering under the awning looking natural. All packing.”

  “In the back?” Cash asked.

  “In the back. On the sides. On the roof. On every floor,” he said. “Corbin’s got them posted on each entrance twenty-four hours a day. No chance of going in quiet.”

  “We expected that.” Cash showed him his laptop. “I’ve got an aerial view of the hotel. There’s cover in this alley. We can get the kids out through there where the vans are waiting on this side street. But we’d need a clear path through the kitchen.”

  “We’d have to pull them out of this area.” He pointed. “Pin them down here. I said we can’t go in quiet, but we’ll do it anyway. They won’t see us coming.”

  I listened close as I made the filling. “What do I do?”

  Cash frowned at me like he forgot I was there. “Do? You’re not doing anything.”

  “I’m coming, Cash. I said I was in and I meant it. I won’t sit at home playing with my whisk while you rescue those kids without me.”

  “You’re a liability,” he said, blunt as a truck. “You can’t shoot. You can’t fight. You won’t stab. Someone would have to go in watching your ass instead of their own. You’re not coming.”

  “I can fight,” I corrected. “Just because I haven’t given you the beating you’re begging for doesn’t mean I don’t know how. My dad taught me to shoot, and refusing to torture a guy with a knife is different from using one to defend myself or kids that need me. I don’t need my ass watched. I need you to tell me where I’m going to be and what to do.”

  “You’ll
be right the fuck here chilling the case of beer, or three, I’ll drink when I get home.”

  “Saint, tell him—”

  “There it is,” Cash said. “Dangle’s putting that pussy’s power to getting what she wants.”

  I dropped my bowl. “This whisk is going to be dangling out of your—”

  “Settle down,” Sinjin said. “Both of you. Bunny is coming.”

  “To get herself killed?” Cash snapped.

  “She has to come.” Sinjin leveled an unnaturally serious look on me. “What was that you told Corbin about the man your mother handed you over to?”

  I dropped my gaze, lips pressed together tight.

  “This is her fight, Cash,” he said. “Besides, I’ll be the one watching her ass. No one’s touching her.”

  “I don’t need my ass watched,” I repeated, but I was just glad he said yes. “Where do I need to be?”

  “Behind Sinjin.” Cash picked up his phone again, dismissing me.

  I looked to Sinjin and got a grin in reply. “Behind me is right.” He dropped a kiss on my knuckles. “If you’ll excuse me, Corbin and I were in the middle of our conversation about Angelo.

  “Call me when we’re ready to move out,” he said to Cash. With that, he swept out.

  I hovered near Cash. Giving up on my crepes, I whipped up a simple meal while impatiently waiting for him to hang up the phone.

  “—exact timing. Diego’s on this. So is Duke and Remington. They’ll have a money stash on the premises in case they have to tear out of there quick. You guys find it, it’s yours. That’s your pay. Good.”

  He hung up and I was on him. “Cash, seriously, I want to know the plan. You ordered those guys to bring in a lot of firepower. The place is full of kids. How are you making sure they don’t get hurt?”

  “Corbin said himself the kids are locked in the rooms all day and night. They won’t get caught in the crossfire.”

  I squinted at his laptop. “I get that they have websites, guards, and guns to keep the nosy out, but too much of that and someone will get suspicious. There are health inspectors, safety checks, and city workers. What do they do when Mr. Blart shows up to check out the kitchen? Tell him fuck off enough times that they report him? Kill him and risk a murder investigation blowing up their operation? They’ve got to let him in. The kids are locked in the rooms upstairs, so they can be downstairs putting on the show.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “My point is that’s how we go in quiet. A couple of guys show up as inspectors and they won’t need to worry about Billy Bellhop and his gun. They’ll walk them right through the front door.”

  “That’s... not a bad idea,” he said slowly. “Once they get in the back, they can clear the loading dock. Cut us that clear path through the kitchen.”

  “And it’s way too dangerous to have bullets flying around kids even if they are in the rooms. We don’t know who’s in there with them. One of the guests could panic if they hear gunshots.”

  Cash released a harsh breath, his fists balling. “You’re right. But there’s no way around it. They have men on every floor. We can’t evacuate without getting noticed. Bullets will fly, Redgrave.”

  “Then, we have to give those men a reason to leave their posts. You said if it starts going wrong, those monsters will cut their losses and save themselves?”

  “Yeah,” he drew out.

  “Then this is what we do...”

  WANT TO KNOW WHAT GOES through your head on the ride to certain death?

  It’s not as sweaty, panicky, and frantic as you might think. No, I felt none of those things.

  What you get is an auto-pilot calm similar to the peace you experience while vacuuming, filing, or taking inventory.

  That’s what I was doing—taking inventory.

  Sorting and weighing the measure of your life does not come easy. Have I done good? Have I committed wrongs? Have I chosen the former enough times to outdo the bad? If this is my last day, have I taken advantage of the thousands of days before?

  Eight thousand and four hundred days. That’s what I’ve been given. So very many of those were horrible. There were hundreds of those days that I prayed it’d be the last.

  That’s why today is good, said that calm, still voice. To die the day I end that nightmare for other little girls, makes sense in a way nothing else ever did.

  This is why I’ve suffered. So one day when the time came, I would make it right.

  Sinjin cut into my musings. “Remember what to do?”

  “I should hope so,” I said. “It is my plan.”

  It took a day to work out the details and who would do what. Then another to get everything in place. That night, we were destined for the Castian.

  “It’s a good plan,” Sinjin said. “You’ve got a knack for this.”

  I cut eyes to him, and he was looking back at me—despite the fact he was driving. Gently I faced him at the road.

  “That pleases you, doesn’t it? That there’s a side to me that indulges vengeance. I’m ruling well as your queen.”

  “Vengeance or justice?”

  The quiet question dimmed my smile.

  “Is that what you carry out?” I whispered. “Justice?” My hand lingered, stroking his cheek. “What wrongs are you righting, St. John?”

  “Too many to name,” he said. “Get ready. The hotel’s up ahead.”

  “Why do you do that? Avoid talking to me about anything real. I thought we were past this.”

  “How’s this for real? Put your mask on now.”

  I bit my tongue, holding back the frustration. Even if this wasn’t bad timing, fussing with him would get me nowhere. Sinjin held back infinitely more than he shared. Some days I felt connected to him. Most I wondered if I’d ever truly know him at all.

  The end of Lincoln Street loomed ahead. Castian Hotel claimed the corner pocket between a Peruvian restaurant and a bar. You couldn’t call this part of the city quiet. People flitted in and out of bars, restaurants, stores, and hotels. A Tuesday night did not compare to a Saturday night in Cinco, but this place was a high-speed video of city night. Life was always on the move.

  But no one laughing in these outdoor cafes or strolling with their friends to the bar noticed what was going on right next door.

  There was a boldness in Corbin’s set-up that boiled my blood. He really thought himself a king. Ruling over Harlow, setting the rules, and breaking them as he saw fit. A confidence he held due to forty years of the Kings proving just that. They were above the law.

  Until now.

  With Sinjin I was united. There would be a new rule in his city.

  “Hello.”

  Sinjin’s voice pulled me to reality once again. He pulled to the curb and parked in front of the Peruvian restaurant. He set the phone on the dash as he put on the mask.

  “Hello?” A rough, gravelly greeting left the speakers. “Who is this?”

  “This is Sinjin, leader of the Merchants. How ya doing, Angelo?”

  My eyes bugged. Diving forward, I grabbed for the phone but Sinjin was too quick.

  Silence compounded on the other end, risking my death as I stopped breathing—waiting for him to speak.

  “How did you get this number?” was the calm reply.

  “A new friend gave it to me. I’m calling to let you know I’m about to take care of a problem for you. A few of your associates have gone rogue. They went behind your back and betrayed your authority. We both know something like that cannot stand.”

  I gestured wildly at Sinjin, mouthing, “What the hell are you doing?!”

  “Absolutely,” Angelo said. “If what you’re saying is true, it cannot stand. But please, don’t trouble yourself. I’m quite capable of handling these matters internally.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.” I didn’t have to see Sinjin’s grin to know it was blinding. “Just think of it as you owing me a favor.”

  Angelo’s laugh was as hard and unpleasant as I pictured him to b
e. “I should think it’s you who owes me the favor, Sinjin, leader of the Merchants. I lost a lot of money when you knocked over Jimmy’s shop.”

  “Whoever those handsome devils were, running around in your shop, I assure you it wasn’t any of my guys. You don’t have to take my word for it. Tonight, you’ll see the Merchants in action. Compare that shoddy, half-assed job run by idiots who couldn’t take out a single camera, with the mess I make of your strongest and best-defended men. Afterward, ask yourself if you want another demonstration, or to skip to giving me that favor.”

  Sinjin ended the call.

  “Alright, Bunny. Let’s do this.”

  “What the hell was that?” I cried. “Are you insane?”

  “That was the beginnings of negotiations. The fight doesn’t end tonight.” Sinjin settled the mask over my nose and mouth. “Corbin is just one head to chop off the twelve-headed beast. You heard him say Angelo would’ve looked the other way if he kept it quiet and cut him in. This is the endgame.”

  Sinjin twisted and grabbed the tool bag. He got out knowing I’d follow. I did at a slower pace.

  Gathering my things, I mentally ran through the plan. My stretch of calm was over. This would not be my last night. For me or any of the guys. Ninety-nine point nine percent probability be damned.

  Sinjin’s knit cap was a beacon bobbing among the carefree pedestrians. I trailed it onto the hotel’s drive.

  Castian Hotel differed little from the photos I poured over for the last forty-eight hours. Four floors of black-iron balconies, white window awnings, and portico-covered drive devoid of lights.

  Two men in black hotel uniforms came to life at our approach. Their name tags read Terrance and Cory. Just on the other side of the door, two more men watched us.

  “Can I help you, sir? Ma’am?”

  “We’re city inspectors,” I said. “Building code regulations have changed for this area. We’re checking older buildings to ensure they’re in compliance.”

  City inspectors.

  Sinjin and Cash got their hands on two uniforms easier than I could believe. I told myself they got it from a top-quality costume store, instead of off someone’s back. Ditto for the tool bag.