The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series)

by Siobhan Davis

  “Get lost, Evans. Haven’t you got some buttheads to beat on the field?” I jerk my head to where things are heating up. Finn and Saint are locked in an intense conversation, with their supporters lined up behind them, flexing their arms, rolling their necks, and clenching their hands as they prepare to beat the shit out of one another.

  Something cold slips over my skin, and I jerk my hands back, but I’m too late. Caz has already secured the handcuffs around both my wrists. Grabbing me by the shoulders, he yanks me to my feet. “Don’t get involved,” he warns Sean and Emmett as they stand along with Sariah. “Harlow is Sainthood property. She’s ours to do with as we please.” He steps out of the row, gesturing for me to follow.

  “Eat shit.” I kick the side of his leg with my booted foot. Caught off guard, he stumbles forward, grabbing the guy in front to stop himself from falling.

  His nostrils flare as he straightens up, all humor gone, and he roughly grabs my hair, yanking my head back at an awkward angle. “I’m running out of patience, princess. Stop. Fucking. Fighting.” He leans in to my ear. “Unless you want me to tell your bestie you’re hiding shit from her.”

  He’s bluffing. He doesn’t know what I have and haven’t told my best friend. And he doesn’t know the extent of all I’m hiding. No one does.

  However, the Saints trade in secrets. And they have the resources to dig deep. I can’t take any chances. If Sariah finds out what I’ve done, she’ll never look at me the same way again.

  So, I shut my mouth and let Caz drag me down the steps, in front of the whole student body, thrusting me at some goon when we step foot onto the field. “Keep her there.” He points at the bench by the sidelines. “Sit on her if you have to.”

  “Hey, asshole,” I shout at his retreating back. “Forgetting something?” I raise my cuffed hands.

  He turns around, walking backward as he faces me, showcasing a wide grin. “I happen to like that look on you. Suck it up, princess.”

  I hide my irritation, claiming a seat at the end of the bench, deciding I might as well settle in for the show.

  I keep my eyes peeled, my gaze roaming the two gangs squaring off on the field, committing faces to memory. Both gangs have at least twenty supporters backing them up today, and I know, in the Saints’ case, that’s only the tip of the iceberg. The guys don’t typically handle the grunt work themselves. They have access to a large gang they can call on when needed, and most of those guys stick to the shadows.

  It doesn’t take long for the violence to start, and I’m riveted as I watch the guys annihilate Finn’s pathetic little school gang with minimal effort.

  Saint, Galen, and Caz are lethal. Pounding the enemy into a bloody pulp while barely raising a sweat. Theo is no lightweight either, and what he lacks in body mass and strength he makes up for in pure rage. It’s not difficult to see the broken, lost boy hiding beneath his bad boy façade.

  Parker screams and shouts from the other sideline, but she’s too far away for me to hear what she’s saying. From the way she’s throwing her hands around and stomping her feet, I know she realizes she’s on the losing team. I wonder how long it’ll take her to switch sides and how Saint will react to that.

  It’s all over in less than ten minutes, which has got to be some new kind of record.

  Finn’s crew lies broken and beaten on the field as the Saints stand victorious. They stride toward me, looking like their shit’s the bomb, gloating as if it’s all in a day’s work.

  And I suppose it is for them.

  Saint lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow, exposing the chiseled abs that are a regular feature in my dreams. His jeans hang low on his hips, and the V indents on either side of his body are clearly visible. My tongue longs to trace the curves and to dip lower, to wrap my lips around his cock and suck hard.

  Saint grabs my chin painfully, lifting my head and stretching my neck as far as it will go. He swipes roughly at my mouth. “You had a little drool there.”

  I move to swat his hand away, remembering at the last second that I’m still cuffed, and all I can manage is a feeble sideswipe that barely registers.

  He smirks, whipping his head around to where Caz is propped against the entrance to the bleachers with his feet crossed at the ankles. “Nice touch.”

  “I thought so,” he agrees, lighting up a cigarette. A smear of blood is spread across his brow, and the side of his shirt is ripped.

  “Although I’d prefer if she was naked and cuffed to my bed,” Saint adds.

  “I thought you don’t go back for seconds,” I coolly reply.

  “We don’t,” Galen retorts. “And who said anything about sex?”

  “We could add a few more scars to your body,” Saint suggests with a dark glint in his eye. A few guys chuckle as they walk by, heading up the steps.

  “We’re known for our creative torture techniques,” Galen adds. “And I’ve already got a few new ideas in mind for you.”

  I shrug. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’ll have to try a lot harder than that.” I stand, thrusting my shoulders out and refusing to be intimidated.

  Most girls would probably be ashamed if they bore the scars I bear, but I’m not like most girls.

  I wear my scars proudly.

  It’s why I’ve never shied away from wearing belly tops or sleeveless shirts or bikinis, and the shocked stares I picked up during swim class never fazed me, because these scars prove I’m a survivor, so why the fuck would I hide them?

  “We’ll see.” Galen folds his arms, pinning me with the usual venom, and I decide to test the waters.

  “You can’t still be sore about what went down when we were kids? Or you always take rejection so personally?”

  He shoves me back onto the bench, caging me in with his arms, pressing his body down on top of mine. One hand wraps around my throat, and he squeezes. I hold his gaze without flinching. “I will fucking end you, Westbrook. You can sit there acting all smug and innocent, but we know the truth.” He squeezes my throat harder, and he’s glaring at me with so much hatred in his eyes I wouldn’t put it past him to strangle me in front of an audience.

  Saint pulls him back. “Not here.”

  My breath oozes out in grateful relief, but I make no other sound, refusing to show emotion.

  Saint glances up at the crowd who is loitering, watching us with bated breath. Over Galen’s shoulder, I spot Parker watching the altercation with beady eyes, taking it all in and mentally parking it for dissection later, no doubt.

  “Get the fuck home,” Saint yells, his voice carrying across the bleachers. Kids instantly scramble until all that’s left are the injured bodies on the field and a few stupidly brave stragglers.

  The sky darkens, casting a gloomy blanket over the ground below as rain threatens.

  Saint grabs my hands, releasing one of my wrists from the cuffs, and, for a second, I think he’s going to let me go, but he locks the handcuff around the bench I’m sitting on, leaving me trapped.

  “How original,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes.

  This time, it’s Saint who invades my private space, leaning into my face. “We haven’t even started.” His eyes momentarily lower to my lips, and I smirk. A muscle pops in his jaw as he rips his face away from mine, casting a derogatory glance over my body. He straightens up, planting a shit-eating grin on his face. “You think you’re invincible. We’re about to show you you’re not.”

  They walk off, and I sit there watching Parker scream in Finn’s face as he struggles to climb to his feet. The guys on the field are limping away, using the entrance on the far side to flee the scene of their demise with their bloody heads hanging low in shame. Parker glances at me and grins at my predicament as she reluctantly helps her boyfriend hobble away.

  I whistle under my breath, glancing up at the ever-darkening sky, wondering if it will actually rain.

  Footsteps approach, and I don’t need to look over my shoulder to confirm it’s Sariah. I roll my jeans leg up and remove
my blade with my free hand as my bestie, Sean, and Emmett appear in front of me.

  “Fucking asshats,” Sariah seethes, taking my blade and unfolding it for me.

  “I can handle the Saints,” I say, taking it from her and twiddling with the lock on the cuffs.

  “Why are they interested in you?” Sean asks, and Emmett splutters, looking incredulous.

  “Have you not seen the tape?” he asks, and I stop what I’m doing to lift a brow.

  He has the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry.” He shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I watched it before I knew you were coming to Lowell High and before I knew you were friends with Sean and Sariah.”

  “Which is why I haven’t watched it,” Sean confirms.

  “I watched it,” Sariah says, and I grin. We watched some of it together when it was first leaked because I wanted to know exactly what was out in the public domain.

  Dad always said knowledge is power, and I agree.

  “Picked up a few new moves,” she adds, winking at her boyfriend, and he throws his head back laughing.

  “It was fucking hot,” Emmett says, waggling his brows.

  “Is that your way of saying you want to fuck me?” I inquire, as the lock pings open and I free myself.

  “Every guy at this school wants to fuck you after that tape,” he replies, while I rub my sore wrist.

  “Or at least they did,” Sean adds, as Sariah hands my backpack to me. “Until the assholes laid claim to you.”

  I throw the handcuffs inside, zip it up, and stand. “Well, at least, they’ve done me one favor,” I quip.

  “I’ve been checking up on them,” Emmett says, as we climb the steps together, and my admiration elevates a few levels.

  I knew he was smart.

  When people threaten my family, I dig into their pasts to uncover every seedy little secret in the hope I can find something to use as leverage. Emmett clearly didn’t take kindly to Theo threatening his sister, and I don’t blame him.

  Anyone who ignores a threat from The Sainthood is an idiot.

  Those guys don’t make idle threats.

  “And they’ve never claimed any girl before,” Emmett continues. “Hell, from what I’ve discovered, they basically shun girls after they’ve fucked them. So why have they claimed you?”

  I have my suspicions, but it’s nothing I can share. “I guess I’m just that good of a lay,” I joke, grinning as I loop my arm through his and we hurry out of the stadium.

  _______________

  The rest of the week is an exercise in slow, silent torture as I wait for the shit show to unfold. Patience isn’t my strong suit, and the hours tick by like minutes.

  The Saints insist on sitting at my table at lunch, and if any of them are in my classes, they force kids aside so they can take the seat behind me, each one of them enjoying breathing down my neck in an attempt to make me uncomfortable.

  They largely ignore me, with the exception of a few carefully chosen insults and threats, but I know we’re all biding our time, and I just want all the cards laid out on the table.

  Friday rolls around, and when I arrive home from school and see the red truck parked outside the front of the house, I know D-day has arrived.

  I drive past Neo’s truck, ignoring the asshole as he comes out of the house to unload more boxes, parking in the garage beside Mom’s car. I climb out of my SUV and lock it with the key fob, pausing a moment to stare at Dad’s collection of sports cars.

  Besides Mom and me, they were his pride and joy, and I always feel a pain in my chest whenever I look at them. A hideous thought infiltrates my mind, and I rush toward the lockbox mounted on the wall at the rear of the garage, removing the keys to all of Dad’s cars and slipping them in my bag.

  I’m damned if Neo is driving any of them, and I vow to find some safe place to move them to. The cabin is the ideal solution, and I make a mental note to ask Diesel if he can help me to transport them without anyone knowing.

  If Neo gets his hands on any of these cars, I will pepper his body with so many bullets he won’t resemble anything even remotely human when I’m done.

  All week I’ve been dreading this moment until I concluded this is actually a good thing.

  Keeping your enemies close is a well-known adage that most people dismiss without any thought.

  But there is wisdom in the age-old saying.

  Having Neo here means I can keep an eye on him in a way that won’t raise suspicion. He might believe he has the upper hand, but I know more than he realizes, and if he knew what I knew, he might not be so confident about moving in here.

  At the very least, if he’s under my roof, I have access to kill him.

  I don’t want to go to jail for that bastard, but I will if there’s no other option.

  I might have to sleep with one eye on my door from now on, but so does he.

  I try to keep that thought at the forefront of my mind when the doorbell chimes a couple hours later. I skip down the stairs, getting to the door before Mom or Neo, because I want to have some fun with this.

  I open the door, shove my middle finger up at Saint and the guys, and slam the door in their faces before they can barge their way in.

  One of them—my money’s on Galen because he’s the most hotheaded—presses his finger to the bell and doesn’t let up. The shrill ringing is like music to my ears as I step away from the door, resting my back against the wall, grinning like a goober while I wait.

  Mom and Neo appear a few minutes later. Mom frowns when she spots me, and Neo grins.

  “Harlow. What is going on?” Mom asks as Neo flings the door open with more force than necessary.

  “Man, am I glad to see you guys. Come in.” Neo ushers the four guys into our hallway. He slaps Saint on the back, dragging him into a one-armed hug. “Welcome to your new home, son.”

  CHAPTER 7

  I CAN TELL from the shock splashed across Mom’s face she had no idea they were moving in, and that goes some way toward reassuring me. “Neo?” Her face registers confusion as she faces her asshole fiancé.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t mention they were moving in with me, darling,” Neo says, reeling Mom into his arms.

  I dig my nails into the backs of my thighs and work hard not to project my disgust.

  “I wasn’t sure they were going to come with, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing.”

  I smother my snort of hilarity. And they say women are drama queens? The bastard clearly planned it like this so he could intimidate me a little more. I’m glad he thinks I’m an imbecile, because that means he underestimates me, and I can use that to my advantage.

  Truth is, the second I saw Neo Lennox sprawled all over my mother, I knew this was coming.

  A light bulb goes off in Mom’s eyes as she glances at the guys. “Oh my gosh. Saint.” She reaches out, touching his arm. “You’re so grown up.” Her face softens when she notices his cousin. “You too, Galen.” She palms his face, and he smiles at her like he adores the ground she walks on. “You’re both so handsome.” The smile fades when she notices Theo, and she runs her fingers through her hair in a nervous tell. “Theo. It’s nice of you to help the boys move in,” she says after a few beats.

  Neo clears his throat, shooting me a smug look over his shoulder. I like that he’s not even pretending this isn’t all about me. “Theo and Caz are moving in here too. The guys are undergoing initiation, and they need to stick together. I probably should’ve asked you, but it’s not like you don’t have the room. This place is massive.”

  Mom doesn’t look surprised at the mention of initiation, but why would she? She grew up in Prestwick. Galen’s mom, Alisha, was her best friend, and she was going out with Neo’s brother, who was also a member of The Sainthood. Mom was Neo’s childhood sweetheart, and she would have been with him when he was undergoing initiation from junior to senior level.

  The truth is, Mom knows everything there is to know about The Sainthood.
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  Including the fact Neo is now the leader of the Prestwick branch and president of the entire national organization.

  And she thinks it’s a good idea to move him in here and make him my stepfather.

  Way to pick ’em, Mom.

  Neo smooths a hand up and down her spine, and I shiver at the thought of his touch. I don’t know how Mom can bear him to touch her. I can’t even look at him without wanting to flay my skin from my bones.

  If his touch is like his son’s, then you totally get it, my gnarly inner demon whispers in my ear, and I scowl.

  Saint notices, misconstruing it as a smug grin crosses his mouth.

  I flip him the bird, and his grin expands.

  I’m going to enjoy wiping it off his face.

  “I thought they’d be good company for Harlow.” Neo continues lying. “She must get lonely in this big old house by herself when you’re away or working late.”

  Mom turns to face me. “Honey, are you okay with this?” Her nerves betray her, and I know it’s not just for me. This has her on edge too. I want to tell her I’m fine with this, because I’d rather they were here, letting this play out right under my nose, than sneaking around behind my back planning shit I can’t predict or control.

  But I can’t admit any of that, so I stick to the role I’ve created for myself. “No, Mom. I’m not okay with this.” I glare at the guys before forcing my lower lip to wobble. “I didn’t know who they were,” I lie, pushing off the wall and moving toward her with fake upset on my face.

  Her brow creases as she eases out of Neo’s embrace. “I don’t understand. What—”

  “They’re the guys from the tape,” I blurt, cutting her off. “I fucked all of them. Except Theo although he watched, and he did jerk off on my tits.”

  Saint trades looks with his father as Mom’s face pales.

  Inwardly, I’m clapping my hands with glee and wondering why I never tried out for drama class because I’m definitely getting a kick out of this.