Saint (Gates of Heaven Book 1)

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Saint (Gates of Heaven Book 1) Page 7

by M. Tasia


  Saint laughed, as he knew Max had intended him to. “Okay, for a couple hours anyway, you’re my date.”

  “Anytime you want to leave, all you have to do is let me know and we’re out of there.” Max continued to assure him.

  “What about Finn? I couldn’t leave him there.” With each passing day, the kid was becoming more like Saint’s brother than employee.

  “Miguel is completely capable of taking care of Finn. He’s a Marine after all,” Max joked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve seen the way Miguel looks at Finn and there’s no disguising his interest. I don’t think Finn is ready for that type of intensity.” Miguel seemed like a stand-up person, but there was something in his eyes, a haunted look. Saint recognized it every morning staring back at him in the mirror.

  Max did the one thing Saint didn’t see coming. He cupped the side of Saint’s face and said, “Trust me. I would never do anything to disappoint you. Finn is safe with Miguel.”

  Saint tried to back up, but he couldn’t make his body move. The warmth from Max’s hand seemed to pulse throughout Saint’s body, making him acutely aware of the mere inches that separated them. Then to add one more tick to his already out-of-control libido, the handsome bastard had the nerve to lick his lips. Saint was acutely aware of Max’s wet tongue gliding along his lower lip.

  Saint had to clear his throat before he spoke, and still hadn’t managed to move away. “We should go.”

  Max remained firmly planted to the spot. His eyes were impossibly green. “Yep. The guys are waiting.”

  “Yes, we are,” Miguel’s voice boomed into the room, doing exactly what neither of them seemed capable of doing. Making them step apart.

  “Ready?” Max asked, holding out his hand for Saint to take.

  Saint drew in a deep, cleansing breath. “As I’ll ever be.”

  An hour later, Saint found he was actually enjoying himself. The music was pumping, people were dancing, and drinks were flowing, but most of all, the company was outstanding. He hadn’t felt this comfortable out in the open since before he got back to America. Possibly even before that.

  They were lucky enough to get semi-private booth on the upper floor of the club. Well, not luck. Max knew the manager and slipped him a fifty for his trouble. From this position, Saint had an unobstructed view of the club without being in the fray of bodies below.

  Finn was practically bouncing by the time they got their first round of drinks. He took a sip of his and stood, announcing he wanted to dance. Miguel stood, wrapped his arm around Finn’s thin shoulders, and said, “Let me lead the way.”

  They’d been gone most of the night and the few glimpses Saint managed to get confirmed Miguel stayed right by Finn’s side. It was good to see the kid laughing and smiling like a loon. Finn hadn’t had an easy life and he deserved to have as much fun as he wanted.

  Saint and Max had spent the night talking about an array of topics, from their childhoods, to their plans for the building. More and more, it felt as if they were partners in this insane undertaking.

  As they became more comfortable, more personal questions came up. Max asked, “Why a plastic surgeon?”

  Saint figured he could answer this without talking about what had happened in Venezuela. “Trauma victims and the underprivileged. Most people think of plastic surgery as nose jobs and face-lifts, and there are some surgeons that concentrate on those areas. But many of us do reconstructive work. That was always my goal. As I became more skilled, I volunteered to do facial reconstruction in underserved areas.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t going for noble, only useful.”

  Max nodded. “Can’t say I’m surprised. It fits with your character.”

  Saint grinned. “I didn’t yell at my patients.”

  Max barked out a laugh. “I didn’t think you did.”

  “My turn,” Saint said. Max made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Why construction and restoration?”

  “Pretty textbook. No father, and I grew up with a mother and grandmother who did domestic work in other people’s homes. Money was tight, and as I got older, I grew into the man of the house. Over time I became the plumber, carpenter, handyman, and gardener. Getting paid for it seemed the natural progression of things.”

  “Makes sense.” Saint moved his empty bottle aside and leaned forward on his elbows. “How’d you come to have your own business?”

  “I’d lived at home and worked my ass off. Lots of overtime, so I had money saved. The guy I’d worked for wanted to retire and I had enough to put down for a buy-in. I grew the company and paid him off in less than five years. Now I have three locations and nearly a hundred people working for me.” Max had a right to look proud. “The restoration piece was my idea, my passion, and it’s where we made our mark. We have a few top-notch craftsmen who have solid reputations. It helps get us the big jobs.”

  Saint wanted to tell Max how sexy he looked when he talked about his work. Hell, how sexy he looked on the construction site. Shit. The man was sex walking.

  “You’re smiling. That must mean I’m doing something right.” Max smiled before taking a drink from his beer.

  Saint felt his throat go dry as he watched Max swallow, making his Adam’s apple bob. A single drop of sweat chose that moment to slide down his muscled chest and disappear under the collar of his shirt. Saint felt himself getting hard and hoped like hell Max wouldn’t notice.

  No such luck. “If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be responsible for what I do,” Max warned as he placed the glass on the table and shifted closer to Saint.

  “Being responsible never seemed to get me anywhere,” Saint replied. “I think it’s past time to be irresponsible for once.” He’d always done his duty, kept his oath to his mother, but now Saint wanted something for himself, someone of his own, if only for the night.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” Max asked.

  “Definitely.” Saint didn’t even stop to think about it. He wanted Max.

  Max pulled out his cell phone, sent a text to Miguel most likely, then stood, holding out his hand. Saint had never been free to openly show affection for any man before now and he was going to hold on to his feelings as tightly as he could.

  Max’s grip was firm but gentle, always aware of Saint’s injuries. They walked down the stairs and into the melee of bodies on their way to the front door of the club. One moment Max was right in front of him, the next he was swallowed up by the crowd, leaving Saint standing alone in a sea of nameless faces. The pounding music and the chaos of undulating bodies caught him off guard. When he’d been holding Max’s hand, none of it had touched him. Now it crashed into Saint and triggered memories. People running, the fear, the screams, and the blood as bullets rained down on his team.

  It wasn’t long before the first guy sidled up to Saint’s back and began rubbing his jean-covered crotch suggestively against Saint’s ass, bringing him back to the dance floor. When he turned to tell the idiot to back off, Saint found that the stranger was no longer interested in him and was trying to fend off an angry-looking Max.

  “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to never touch someone without their permission?” Max’s voice was calm but his tone was deadly. Saint wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever seen those green eyes shine like that before. It could have been caused by the flashing lights, but Saint wasn’t certain that was the case.

  “I didn’t know he was yours,” the handsy man attempted to explain.

  Saint wasn’t sure how he felt about being considered Max’s property, but he could roll with it.

  “Take your dick far away from us before I remove it from your body.” Then Max released the man so he could disappear back into the wave of bodies.

  Max wrapped his arm protectively around Saint and for the first time in his life, Saint allowed someone else to be the strong one, to lead, to handle what the world threw at him. His entire existence had been spent being on alert for dangers and threats to the people he loved. Protecting others no m
atter the cost. His hand brushed over the bandages covering the gunshot wounds to his stomach as a reminder of exactly that.

  “Are you okay?” Max asked as he pulled Saint closer. “I know you didn’t want anything like that happening tonight. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Saint could feel those two wrinkles between his eyes scrunch together as he concentrated on Max. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “I promised to stay by your side and the first time I screw up, some guy is trying to hump you on the dance floor. You were already unsure of coming out, and it killed me to see that lost look on your face as I was trying to get back to you,” Max explained as he led Saint toward the entrance, never once taking his arm from around Saint’s waist. He’d had no idea what look he wore when his brain zoned out, but “lost” was new and frightening.

  Once they walked out into the fresh air and yellow glow of the streetlights, Saint did the one thing he’d been desperate to do since meeting the man outside his building. He pushed Max against the side of the nearest stone archway and took his lips in a deep kiss. Max responded immediately, opening his mouth to let Saint in to explore.

  Their tongues dueled as Max’s hands cupped Saint’s ass, pulling their hard cocks together. This time the rubbing heightened Saint’s need as he moaned long and low.

  “Hey, Max. Take your boyfriend home before you two get arrested.” A laughing voice broke into the haze surrounding them. Saint had been moments away from reaching into Max’s waistband and taking hold of the hard cock he’d felt grinding against his. He didn’t know who’d yelled at them, but he wanted to kill him.

  They broke apart, and the sight before Saint did nothing to cool his rampaging thoughts. Max’s irises were blown wide open and only a sliver of green remained. His lips were red and slightly swollen, but the smile of absolute joy on his face was breathtaking.

  “Let’s get back to the building,” Max said as he adjusted himself and led Saint back out onto the street. “I have so many things I want to do with you.”

  Saint followed and was a bit stunned that he was actually feeling a happy anticipation for the first time in what felt like forever. The building was only a few blocks over, and along the way the two stopped to kiss and touch as often as possible. Finally, he allowed himself to be in the moment—no worries, no pain, only the two of them.

  They rounded the corner to his building. Excitement rushed through his veins as his heart raced and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. His life was turning around, starting anew, and he couldn’t wait to take it by both hands.

  As suddenly as it arrived, all traces of joy vanished as Saint was struck motionless at the sight before him. Anger and terror took over his body when he saw the black town car parked in front of his building. The clawing hands of dread strangled all vestiges of happiness out of him as one of the back doors opened and the man who had single-handedly destroyed his life stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  His father. Dr. Thomas Jeffrey.

  Chapter Nine

  Max could feel Saint deflating beside him as his body tensed and he drew into himself. At least he hadn’t tried to pull his hand away. Max took that as a positive sign. However, all previous excitement and playfulness was gone. The rate and intensity Saint was throwing up those thick walls to protect himself left Max with a solid idea of the tall, gray-haired man’s identity.

  “Your father,” Max stated without asking. “I’m right beside you all the way, Saint. I won’t leave you.”

  Saint’s only response was squeezing his hand a little tighter, but he never took his eyes off the scowling man. They began walking forward again, but at a considerably slower pace than before when they were rushing to fall into bed together. Max had never felt desperate to touch someone in his life. Each kiss and caress only drove home the fact that Saint was his, even if the man didn’t know it yet.

  After what Saint had told him about his life under the elder Jeffrey’s rule, Max didn’t trust the bastard. By the stress radiating from the man Max had come to care about, he was worried as well. What could he want now? Hasn’t he already taken enough from Saint?

  Instead of stopping in front of the now red-faced older man, they carried on to the front gate of the building. Saint pulled out his keys, undid the lock, and walked through the vestibule to the double hung solid wood doors. Max stayed at Saint’s back in case the asshole tried anything.

  As soon as the door was pushed open, Dr. Jeffrey shoved his way past Max and Saint and stormed into the lobby. Saint sent Max an apologetic look before following his father inside. As soon as this piece of shit left, Max would do everything in his power to let Saint know he had nothing to apologize for.

  The younger and elder Jeffrey squared off a few feet away from one another in the middle of the construction zone. Max remained one step to the side of Saint, but even being that close hadn’t prepared him for the brutal backhand Saint’s father delivered to his son. Max immediately pushed between the two to ensure the bastard didn’t get a second chance.

  Saint straightened and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth before saying, “At least you waited until we were inside the building before you took your shot. Wouldn’t want to be seen knocking your son around, now would we?” Max felt one of Saint’s bandaged hands on his shoulder saying more with that one touch than any words could invoke. Saint wasn’t hiding who he was anymore.

  “Send your fuck buddy home, we have a lot to discuss,” the older man ordered as he rubbed his knuckles on the hand he’d used to strike Saint.

  “Fuck buddy? Who the hell—” Max growled, but was cut off before he could give the bigot a proper dressing-down.

  “Whatever he paid you, I’ll double. Now leave.” The asshole even had the nerve to reach for his wallet. Saint gently squeezed his shoulder and all of Max’s anger fled. If this piece of shit thought he was going to get Saint alone by driving Max away, he had another thing coming.

  “I’m not going anywhere, asshole. And if you touch him again, I’ll be more than happy to knock you on your ass.” Playtime was over.

  The older man looked at Max as if he were a bug under a microscope. Disgust and superiority emanated from every pore.

  “What do you want?” Saint asked. “The lawyers handled the dissolution of my part in the practice. There is nothing left tying me to you. So if you don’t mind, we had plans and you’re interrupting them.” Saint’s voice was strong even if his hand shook slightly on Max’s shoulder.

  The bastard delivered a look to Saint that Max was sure had driven home his threat of violence since Saint was a child. Not going to happen anymore if Max had anything to say about it.

  “I see you’ve sunk into this depravity fully now. That will stop immediately. I won’t have you dragging my name through the cesspool you call your life now.” The pompous ass brushed at an imaginary speck of dust on his pristine, perfectly tailored suit.

  Saint did the one thing Max hadn’t expected. He barked out a laugh that whipped through the silence like a knife. “You honestly think you can come here and tell me what to do? What reality are you living in?” Saint asked as he walked around Max and stood toe to toe with his father. “You have no power over me anymore, so run along.”

  The dismissive tone in Saint’s voice must have struck a nerve in the asshole. His face turned red and a vein pulsed in the center of his forehead. Max figured Saint had never spoken to his father without fear of reprisals. That was no longer a concern.

  “You signed a contract,” Thomas blustered.

  “Yeah, let’s see that hold up in court.” Saint’s voice dripped with disgust. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  “What about Johnny? You don’t care about his well-being?” the bastard asked, shocking Max by his blatant threat against his own child.

  “Old man, if you go anywhere near my brother, not only will I do everything in my power to destroy you, the town of Brighton will as well. His husband will mop the floor with you,” Saint said in a tone that
left no doubt it was the absolute truth. “Or maybe you already know that, and that’s why you’re here. You have no power over us now and you know it.”

  The shithead’s eyes turned cold and hard, and Max could see his jaw clenching as he ground his teeth together. “You think you’re safe. Have you learned nothing over the last thirty-odd years, son?”

  The venom used when he spit out the word “son” sent a sliver of fear down Max’s spine. What could he do to Saint? Max wasn’t sure what the crazy man had in mind, but the calculating look on his face made Max wonder.

  “Dr. Thomas Jeffrey, you are no longer welcome on my property. Rest assured I will be filing the proper paperwork to have you barred from here permanently.” Saint’s voice was cold and Max twined his fingers through Saint’s, lending his strength to the brave man. Facing one’s demons, or in this case demon, was never easy. “You have ten seconds to leave before I call the police.”

  The bastard took one step forward and Max cut him off with his body, making the older man stumble back. “You won’t always have your ‘friend’ around to protect you.”

  “Protect Saint?” Max laughed. “You’ve got it all wrong, asshole. I’m protecting you. After what you’ve done, if Saint hits you, I’m afraid he won’t be able to stop until you’re lying bloodied on the floor. So you better take the chance to leave right now before your ten seconds are up.”

  “Five seconds,” Saint growled, causing Max’s body to react in inappropriate ways for such a tense situation. But hell, the man had been turning Max on for weeks.

  Dr. Thomas Jeffrey looked at both of them as if they’d lost their minds. “This isn’t over.”

  “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that in the past week,” Saint said, apparently remembering Max’s ex’s threat at the shelter. “I wasn’t worried then, and I’m certainly not worried now. Leave.”

 

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