The Saint
Kelsey Clayton
Copyright © 2020 by Kelsey Clayton
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing by Kiezha Ferrell at Librum Artis
To all the good girls who just need a little bad boy in their lives.
This ones for you.
Maybe you should set me free.
Maybe I don’t really want you to.
Maybe I just want to be the person
that you just can’t lose.
Camila Cabello
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
The Rebel
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Kelsey Clayton
1
KNOX
It’s a funny thing, how weed, beer, and good company can make all your problems fade away. Zayn and Gage sit beside me, laughing as Stone tries to balance an empty bottle on his head. He’s so high that he doesn’t even realize when it falls onto the floor and shatters, continuing his attempt to remain completely still, his eyes rolling in his head as he tries to look at us.
“You moron. Clean that shit up,” I tell him, and only then does he notice the mess he’s created.
“Oh, shit. When did that happen?”
Zayn chugs the rest of his can of light beer—such a pussy—and throws it at Stone. “Balance that, bitch.”
Like a monkey doing tricks, he glares at him but then picks up the can to do exactly what he was told. I sigh and rub my forehead. I really need new friends.
Rapid pounding on the front door pulls my attention from the circus act in front of me. I groan, standing up and walking toward it. Another set of harsh knocks come just before I get there.
“I’m coming!” I shout. Jesus fucking Christ.
I pull the door open with a scowl on my face, but as soon as I take in the sight in front of me, it’s gone—along with my high. Grayson Hayworth—Pretty Boy, as I like to call him—is standing on my porch. His clothes are stained a deep red, blood covering almost every inch of him. Fury radiates from his body in waves as he grips at his brown hair. He may be a lot of things, but weak is not one of them. Whoever put him in this chaotic mental state should take cover if they’re not already lying in pieces somewhere.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
He shakes his head. “I need your help.”
I jolt awake, panting heavily and drenched in a cold sweat. My eyes search around the dark bedroom as my breathing starts to calm. The lack of light shining through the window tells me it’s still the middle of the night. Of course.
Slipping out of my bed, I make my way into the kitchen, ignoring my mom as I grab a beer from the fridge. Concern is etched across her face, and I can already tell she’s battling between minding her business and asking questions. She goes with the latter.
“Still having nightmares?”
I shrug. “Something like that.”
The fact that it’s so much more than a bad dream isn’t something she needs to know, nor does she need to know what it’s about. Hell, the only damn reason she’s aware something is wrong is because this house is small as shit and sometimes she can hear me yelling in my sleep. Thank fuck she hasn’t been able to figure it out.
Since I was younger, it’s only ever been the two of us. My dad ran out on us when I was two, and, despite the many times she’s tried dating, my mom has always been a single mother. She does her best, I’m sure, but making minimum wage at a diner has never provided us with anything beyond bare essentials. As for our relationship? It’s about as strong as this house—might crumble with a light breeze. I’ll always appreciate everything she’s done for me, but after the fifth time she disappeared with a new boyfriend and left me to fend for myself at the age of eight, I gave up on hoping she would ever become the mother I needed.
I pop the cap off the beer and take a large swig. The ice-cold liquid helps cool my body, allowing me to put that dream, that night, into the back of my mind–where it belongs. I put away two-thirds of the bottle in only a matter of seconds then retreat to my room. I probably won’t be getting any more sleep tonight, but at least behind a closed door I don’t have to deal with my mom’s half-hearted attempts at being parental.
THE SNOW-COVERED GRASS and the frigid January air are a harsh reminder of my least favorite season. I shiver in my black ripped jeans and long-sleeved shirt. A part of me wonders if I should go back inside to get my jacket, but as Stone pulls up, I decide against it. I jump off the porch and walk around to the passenger side.
“Took you long enough, asshole.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fuck off. I’ll make you ride your motorcycle in the damn snow.”
“Nah, you wouldn’t.”
“And why’s that?”
I pull the joint out of my pocket and wiggle it between my fingers. “Because then you wouldn’t get any of this.” The corners of his mouth raise, but as he goes to reach for it, I pull away. “Aye. Eyes on the road.”
The school isn’t far from my house, so it only takes a couple minutes to get there. Just before we pull into the parking lot, I eye all the douchebags in uniforms. Haven Grace Prep is the private school across from mine, though I’ve always said HGP should stand for Hoes, Gays, and Prostitots. It’s full of a bunch of rich snobs in a constant war of my dicks bigger than yours.
“Look, it’s your best friend,” Stone quips, nodding toward one particularly obnoxious shithead.
Carter Trayland. He’s had it out for me for years, since I made starting quarterback of the North Haven football team as a sophomore. Our team has wrecked his every single year. He was sure with their new quarterback, they would redeem themselves this year. Unfortunately for him, the game was rained out and never rescheduled. It didn’t make a difference to me either way, but he was royally pissed.
I watch as the blond douchebag acts the way his entitled ass always has—like no one in the world can touch him. Although, I guess no one can, being as his dad is the district attorney. He’s tried fighting me a few times, but there’s no doubt in my mind he’d have the book thrown at me if he actually got a mark on his pretty face. While my criminal record isn’t exactly squeaky clean, it doesn’t have any felony charges on it, and I’ve done things I’m not proud of to keep it that way.
Carter’s eyes meet mine and narrow instantly. I chuckle, flipping him off before looking away. I may be his number one most hated person, but he’s always the last thing on my mind.
“You know, one da
y you’re going to have to kick his ass, just to put him in his place,” Stone points out.
I hum, acknowledging he’s probably right but being completely aware it’s a bad fucking idea.
As soon as he parks, the two of us get out of the car and go to join the rest of my idiotic friends behind the school. Zayn, the closest thing I’ve had to a brother since kindergarten, leans against the wall. His black hair is spiked, and he’s puffing on a cigarette. Gage and Easton are next to them. Their identical black leather jackets are always good for a joke at their expense. What kind of guys go shopping together for matching clothes? I mean, other than the mega-cunts across the street.
“What’s up, fuckers?” I greet them, plucking the cigarette from Zayn’s fingers and bringing it to my lips.
Gage smiles deviously and hands me a phone. “E was just showing us pictures his girlfriend sent him. She’s a hot piece of ass.”
I take the device into my hands and thumb through the images. For the past few months, Easton has been dating Tessa Callahan—one of the trust-fund brats from across the street. At first, I was completely against it. After he practically forced her on all of us, however, I’ve grudgingly come to tolerate her. I still think it’ll never work out between them, but they insist they’re only having fun. And Gage is right—she’s pretty hot. Psychotic as fuck, but hot none the less.
“Nice tits.” I hand Easton his phone back. “You’re going to let me hit that, right?”
He laughs. “Once I’m done with her, you can do whatever you damn well please.”
Stone slips his hand into my pocket and pulls out the joint I brought for us to share. It’s not all the time that we get high before going to class, but when we do, it makes the day more interesting. Just as he lights it, my phone vibrates inside my pocket. I pull it out and my stomach drops at what I see.
Unknown: Boss wants to see you. Friday night behind Taylor’s Pub. Bring your friend.
“You all right, man?” Zayn questions while passing me the doobie. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
I take a deep inhale and shake it off. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
But that’s a lie. After reading that message, I’m anything but fine, and there’s everything to worry about. Boss is a very powerful and very dangerous man—a man I happen to owe a huge favor. He’s not the kind of person you want to be indebted to. I’ve spent years avoiding being in this position, but thanks to circumstances, here I am.
No matter how much I smoke, or how high I get, I can’t shake the feeling of dread. Perhaps it’s the paranoia that comes with smoking pot, but I keep looking over my shoulder, convinced someone is watching me. I wouldn’t put it past him. Having been through more shit than the average eighteen-year-old, there aren’t many things in this world that scare me. However, the power this guy possesses definitely does.
We head inside to get our books. However, just as we’re about to leave the lockers, I turn to Stone. “Give me your keys. I’m skipping.”
His brows raise. “Dude, you’re high as hell. I’m not letting you drive my car like that.”
“I’m not looking to drive it.” I roll my eyes. “Just give me your fucking keys.”
Pulling them from his pocket, he deposits the keys into my hand. Then, my eyes search the hallway for what lucky girl I’m going to be taking with me. Being the king of this place, it’s no surprise that I can have whoever I want. If I’m honest, it gets a little old, but for times like this, where I need to focus on something else and clear my head, it’s useful.
My gaze lands on a girl with blonde hair, and I know she’ll be an easy score. For one, she’s wearing a skirt in January. And two, it’s rolled up so high she’s practically begging for it already. I check her out from head to toe before heading in her direction.
“See you later, shitheads,” I say to my friends.
Gage is the only one to protest. “You’re seriously not coming to first? It’s Miss Patten today, and she’s a fucking knockout.”
I glance back at them and smirk. “Been there. Done that.”
Three of my friends’ jaws drop while Zayn just laughs and shakes his head. Since he’s like my brother, he’s already been filled in on the time she asked me to stay for detention, only for it to end with me fucking her on her desk. I’ll probably never do it again, but I don’t regret a single second of it. It’s one of those things I did just to cross it off my bucket list.
“Hey,” I say, getting the girl’s attention. “Jenna, is it?”
She twirls a piece of hair around her finger. “Jessie.”
“Right.”
Crashing my lips against hers, she immediately starts to kiss me back. I grip at her waist and pull her into me. Within seconds, I’m already hard inside these tight-ass jeans. I break the kiss and rest my forehead against hers.
“How attached are you to first period?” I ask.
“That depends. What are you proposing I do instead?”
I chuckle and pull away to wrap my arm around her. As the two of us make our way to the door, my friends hoot and holler like the obnoxious twats they are.
“Knox Vaughn, you bad boy,” Stone jokes.
Raising my middle finger to flip them off, I leave the school with my new distraction for the next hour.
BY THE TIME THAT school lets out, I’m no less on edge than I was this morning. Jessie was a decent fuck and didn’t expect anything afterward, but she wasn’t very memorable. The guys and I used to be really screwed up and rate each girl in three different categories. Looks. Skill. Level of Crazy. That stopped when Tessa found out Easton rated her a 9-7-9. That’s what happens when your dumb ass doesn’t check to see if you hung up the fucking phone.
“Wait for me here one minute. There’s someone I need to talk to,” I tell Zayn, and he nods.
Reluctantly, I walk across the street, hoping to hell Carter isn’t around to start shit. It only takes a second before I find who I’m looking for. Grayson Hayworth, Haven Grace’s newest quarterback and a pain in my ass. He’s standing with his girlfriend, Savannah, and a chick I’ve never met, but wouldn’t mind spending a few hours alone with. Unfortunately, private school pussy isn’t something I allow on my menu.
“Pretty boy,” I call with a nod his way. “I need to talk to you a minute.”
Savannah and her friend eye me curiously as Grayson and I step out of earshot.
“What’s up?”
I swipe open my phone and hand it to him. “Don’t make plans for Friday night.”
The color on his face drains the same way mine did when he reads the message.
“Is this…” I nod. “Shit. I thought they forgot about us. It’s been weeks since that night.”
“They never forget anything. Especially not something they’re owed.”
He runs his fingers through his hair and exhales. “What if we just don’t answer them? What are they really going to do?”
My eyebrows furrow. “Have you lost your mind? That would get us fucking killed. These guys don’t mess around, Hayworth. You’re not in the place to act like a badass anymore.” If I stay here any longer, I’ll end up taking my shit out on the wrong person. So, I take a step back. “I’ll text you where to meet on Friday. We’ll go together so I can be sure your pansy ass shows.”
Getting into Zayn’s car, I’m still seething. The only reason I’m in this fucking mess is because of his overprotective ass. He just had to go all knight in shining armor for his girlfriend and take it way too damn far. Now, he’s risking my life by having shitty ideas like “let’s ignore them.” He has no idea the kind of game he’s involved in now. This isn’t petty high school bullshit. We’re playing with the big boys now.
“Everything all right?” Zayn asks, sensing my anger.
“Peachy,” I murmur. “Just fucking drive.”
He gives me a knowing look and nods once. “I’ll call Garret and have you put in the lineup for tonight.”
And that’s why he’s my bes
t friend. He can always sense exactly what I need and knows how to get it for me.
THE UNDERGROUND WAREHOUSE IS packed, with the noise of the crowd only hyping me up. Two brawlers in the ring throw punch after punch. Their blood is all over the place, making it look more like a murder scene than anything. However, despite how brutal it is, neither of them rest for even a second until that final bell dings and the winner is announced.
My favorite thing about these fights is that everyone who steps into the ring is here for a purpose. Frustration they need to take out. Money they need to win. A reputation they need to uphold. It’s always something that brings them here, and no one says a damn word.
“You ready?” Zayn hands me my water bottle as I swing under the rope and inside the ring.
I smirk. “Aren’t I always?”
2
DELANEY
All’s fair in love and war, or at least that’s what they say anyway. Personally, I wouldn’t know anything about that. I’m probably the only seventeen-year-old left in this town who hasn’t had a boyfriend, let alone lost their virginity. It’s not that I’m trying to avoid boys, or unsure of my sexuality, for that matter. I’ve just never found someone who makes it hard for me to focus on anything else. Because that’s how it should be, isn’t it?
The Saint: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Haven Grace Prep Book 2) Page 1