“Fuck off.” I throw them on the ground, unzip the altered dress, and step into it, holding it up with one hand as I use the wall to steady myself. Then, I slip my feet into the five-inch black and gold stilettos I’d laid out to wear.
Something akin to admiration flits across his face for a fleeting second, and then, the mask comes down again. His eyes trail the length of my body as I shimmy the tight-fitting dress on. Keeping his gaze pinned on me, he walks right up to me, spinning me around and pressing me into the wall. He moves my damp hair to one side, running the tip of his finger down my spine.
I could have him off me in seconds, but I’m interested to see where he’s going with this, and how far he intends to push it, so I don’t struggle or protest, holding my breath as his fingers latch around the zipper and he slowly pulls it up. My skin vibrates in all the places where his fingers touch my exposed flesh, and I bite down hard on my lip to stifle a moan.
He takes his time zipping me up, and it’s a slow form of torture. Between the warm breath on the back of my neck, the touch of his fingers scorching my skin, and the heat rolling off his body as he presses up against me, I’m soaked and already regretting my reckless decision to forgo underwear. This dress is short, and I’ll be lucky if I can sit down without flashing the goods.
As if he’s a mind reader, his hand drops low, his fingers inching up under the hem of my dress.
“Get your hands off me.” It comes out less of a threat as I’d intended.
He chuckles before placing his lips on the back of my neck while his fingers move higher and higher up my thigh. “Try to sound convincing next time,” he rasps as his hand moves to cup my crotch from behind.
This time, I don’t smother my moan in time, and he chuckles again. “We own this,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers up and down over my pussy. “No one touches this cunt but us,” he adds, sliding one long digit inside me. “Understood?”
“I thought you weren’t interested,” I pant.
“We’re not,” he says, adding another finger and pumping them leisurely in and out of me. “But we’re quickly learning what we need to do to keep you in line.”
His words snap me out of the sexual bubble I’m trapped in, and I enjoy his howl of pain as I slam the heel of my shoe into his shin.
“Fuck!” He leans down, rolling up his jeans as he stabs me with a dark glare.
“The sooner you learn you won’t keep me in line, the better this goes for both of us,” I say, looming over him with my hands on my hips.
“That’s not how this works,” he hisses, unfurling to his full height. “The sooner you do what we say, the easier this is on you.”
I snort. “I’ve never taken orders from guys, and I’m not about to start now.”
I flounce out of the closet and over to my dressing table. Saint hobbles out behind me.
Caz chuckles. “I’m beginning to think we need to wear full body armor or our Kevlar vests when we’re around the princess.”
The nickname pisses me the hell off, but I’ll never let them know that.
Ignoring them, I focus on blow-drying my hair, gloating as the noise drowns out their conversation. They refuse to leave, sprawling across my room, watching me studiously, as I style my hair and apply my makeup.
Instead of the signature tees they usually wear to school, they are all wearing fitted shirts with skinny jeans.
Saint’s shirt is rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his muscled arms and the heavy ink on his skin.
Galen has the top few buttons of his shirt open, highlighting the colorful tats creeping up his chest and onto his neck.
Caz’s shirt is stretched so tight across his back and shoulders it looks like it’s two sizes too small.
Theo is wearing a gray shirt that hugs his lean abs, and he’s made an effort with his hair. Instead of the usually messy blond waves, he has it slicked back and tucked behind his ears.
They scrub up well even when they’re only making minimal effort, and I fucking hate how much my libido notices these guys.
I caution my hormones to calm the fuck down as I inspect my reflection in the mirror, deciding to roll with this.
I already look like trailer park trash with my ripped dress exposing the scars on my stomach and upper arms, so I might as well make the most of it.
Instead of the smooth, sleek hairstyle I was originally going for, I use a shit ton of volumizing product on my hair until I resemble something from the eighties with my puffed-out back-combed look. I apply thick eyeliner to my smoky eyes, finishing with a couple layers of heavy mascara. Full red lips complete the look, and I can’t help grinning at my reflection.
“What’s that smile for?” Saint asks, not even pretending he hasn’t been watching me intently.
“Mom is going to flip out.” I stand, smoothing a hand down the front of my dress, as I grab my purse.
Galen glowers, and it’s getting old. “Continue scowling like that and it might stick,” I taunt, sauntering toward him. I brush my fingers along his brow, smoothing the lines out, and he slaps my hand away. “It’d be a pity to ruin such a pretty face.” He glowers harder, and I laugh.
Man, it’s way too easy to wind Galen Lennox up.
And, so far, The Sainthood’s intimidation tactics lack substance and sophistication.
I should have known that wouldn’t last too long.
CHAPTER 9
I WANDER AROUND the crowded downstairs of our house, counting down the minutes until I can slip away. Mom’s face was a picture when she saw the state of me. The old me would’ve felt guilty, but I have zero guilt anymore and zero respect for my mom. She raged at Neo for his harsh treatment of me for all of five seconds before she forgave him. And she’s let the assholes move in here and treat the place as if they already own it.
Dad must be turning in his grave.
Although I could kill for a proper drink, I pour myself a large soda, steering clear of the obvious gang members and the four jerks clinging to their coattails. There is no way even a drop of alcohol is passing these lips when there are so many dangerous men in my house. I need to keep my wits about me. While I recognize some of them, there are a lot of faces I haven’t come across before, so I take a few photos on the sly when no one is watching.
Neo introduces me to a few scary-looking dudes, and I don’t like the way their eyes roam my body or the curiosity that alights in their eyes when my identity is confirmed. But dudes are suckers for a pretty face and a show of skin, and I use it to my advantage—flirting and laughing with them, extracting some key details like their names and how long they’ve been members. All intel which I file away to decipher later.
The entire time I’m talking to the outlaw dicks, Saint’s gaze drills holes in my back. I don’t need to turn around to know all four initiates are watching me, but Saint’s intensity is almost physical in the way I feel his eyes scorching a path over my body. I flirt outrageously, knowing it’s most likely pushing Saint’s buttons, and I’m only surprised he doesn’t yank me away.
I’m guessing he’s behaving tonight under Daddy’s watchful eye, because Neo is also watching proceedings carefully, and his eyes work the room like a pro.
I can see where Saint gets it from. That cunning ability to observe all and know all. He’s clearly learned it from Sinner.
Mom mustn’t like the way they’re looking at me either because she finds an excuse to extract me from the conversation, pulling me over to her work colleagues instead.
Mom’s business associates are giving Neo’s crew a wide berth, and the atmosphere is awkward in the extreme, the conversation stilted and tense. From the looks being shared around the room, I know I’m not the only one who thinks Mom’s lost the plot.
It’s like two opposing worlds colliding, and I’ve no idea how Mom plans to make this all work. When news gets out about her new gangland affiliations, I think she’ll lose a lot of clients. Being connected to The Sainthood is bad for business no matter how you look at it.
My cell pings with a text from Sariah, wondering how much longer I’ll be, and it’s a welcome distraction. I tap out a quick reply as I slip out of the living room and walk the empty hallway toward the downstairs bathroom.
Leaving soon.
The cell is suddenly ripped from my hand, and I’m pulled sideways into Dad’s study. Neo shoves me into the chair in front of Dad’s mahogany desk—the one passed down from his father in his will. Watching the asshole lean against the edge of the desk with my phone in his possession has my blood boiling for several reasons.
“Planning on ditching already?” he asks, reading the message from Sariah before scrolling through my phone like he has every right.
“Give that back.” I thrust out my hand, pinning the full weight of my animosity on him.
“Shut up,” he snaps without looking at me. He sifts through my messages, and all the tiny hairs lift on the back of my neck when he opens the photo files, deleting every single picture I took tonight. Lucky I already saved copies to the cloud and wiped the activity from my log. I move to stand, but he pushes me back into the chair, planting one firm hand on my thigh, keeping me in place. He puts my phone down on the desk and leans in close to me.
Bile swims up my throat at the malice burning in his eyes.
“I’ve been watching you for some time, Harlow.” His words send shards of fear slicing through me. “And I’ve got to admit, I’m impressed.”
I bottle my fear, schooling a neutral expression on my face. “Am I supposed to be grateful?”
He tightens his grip on my thigh, and his eyes drop to my bare skin for a brief moment.
A new layer of panic simmers underneath the surface.
“I’m not easily impressed, and it doesn’t often hold, so you have a choice here.” He leans down closer, putting his face all up in mine, and even though my natural instinct is to spit in his face, knee him in the balls, and get the fuck out of Dodge, I hold myself still, keeping a lid on my mounting fear. “Cooperate and live your best life,” he says as he moves his hand up under the hem of my dress.
I grab hold of his wrist, stalling his upward trajectory, because that shit is not happening. “And if I don’t?”
“Then mommy dearest pays the price.”
My stomach plummets. I might be pissed at Mom now, but I don’t want him hurting her because of me. I dig my nails into the underside of his wrist as he attempts to move his hand up to my bare pussy. I’ve never regretted my stupid decision to go sans underwear more than I do right now. “I knew this was bullshit. That you don’t love her.”
“Oh, but I do,” he says, his jaw taut with tension as our hands battle for supremacy underneath my dress. “Your mother’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. But she betrayed me, and she needs to be punished for that. The severity depends on you.”
“Why?”
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Lo. We both know why.” He pulls back, removing his hand, and I fight hard to disguise my abject relief. “The mourning period is over. This is a new dawn. You will do what I say or you and the lovely Giana will suffer the consequences.”
I don’t hold back, leveling him with every ounce of hatred I feel in my heart. I don’t know how, but someday, that man is going to die, and I’m going to be the one with my finger on the trigger.
He drops my cell in my lap before walking off, pausing at the door. He turns to watch me. “Your destiny was set in motion the second Giana left me for him. I don’t give a fuck about fairness or what’s right and what’s wrong. If you want someone to hate, hate your parents, because it’s always been their fault.” His mouth pulls into a cocky grin, and he blows me a kiss before exiting the room, leaving me frozen in place.
All the panic I’ve kept at bay surges forward, and my pulse throbs wildly in my neck as potent fear sluices through my veins.
I haven’t been fooling him at all! That he’s been watching me is no surprise, but the fact he knows I know is. “Fuck it!” I throw my cell at the wall, watching it shatter, as my stomach twists and turns.
I need to implement my plan, and fast.
Movement out of the corner of my eye captures my attention, and I whip my head up. My eyes latch on familiar blue eyes as Saint steps out from behind the shelving unit. Anger rolls off him in waves as he strides toward me slowly.
I climb to my feet, quickly recovering my composure. “Does Sinner know you’re spying on him?” Did Sinner sanction it, or Saint has doubts about his father, especially around me?
“What did he mean?” he growls, gripping my forearm and tugging me into him.
That same charge is in the air, and I sway in his arms as he lowers his fierce gaze to my lips. His erection prods against my stomach, and sheer liquid lust competes with raw rage on his face. He looks torn between wanting to strangle me and wanting to kiss me, and I can relate, because he invokes the same reactions in me. He reeks of unrestrained anger and danger, and I’m fucked in the head because I press in closer to him, turned on instead of being disgusted. His eyes darken, holding me a prisoner in place, and I couldn’t move right now even if I wanted to. Which I don’t, because my hormones have clearly eviscerated all sense of self-protection and logic.
“I asked you a question.”
His words warn me not to fuck with him, and his eyes burn through me, searching, probing, and attempting to strip me bare, to see everything I can’t let him see. But I’m powerless to break eye contact, drowning in those dangerous blue depths until I can’t feel where he ends and I begin.
His penetrating stare takes me back to the moment we bonded, and I don’t believe he’s forgotten.
I know I’m imprinted on his soul the same way he is on mine.
“You already know the answer,” I whisper.
“What the actual fuck?”
Galen’s snippy tone breaks us apart, and I turn my head to the door where the other three guys are watching us with matching suspicious gazes.
I’ve dropped my barriers, and I’m feeling too much right now. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability, and I’m wide-open in a room full of sharks.
I need to get out of here before I reveal something important.
I dash to the door, pushing my way through the testosterone barrier and fleeing to the safety of my bedroom.
No one stops me, but I know I’m on borrowed time.
CHAPTER 10
“HERE,” EMMETT SAYS, handing me a beer the instant I plop my butt down on the threadbare couch in Sariah’s living room. Her grandma is at bingo tonight, so we have the place to ourselves. “You look like you need it.”
“Man, do I ever.” I drain half the bottle in one go, sinking back into the couch as I finally relax. My muscles were wound tighter than Bradley Cooper on Oscar night.
“That bad, huh?” Sariah says coming into the room carrying a massive bowl of chips. Sean is behind her carrying a couple of dips.
“It was like outlaw central. Mom’s definitely lost a few friends tonight.”
Thank God, I eventually managed to convince my bestie to sit this one out. She wanted to come to support me. The three of them did. But I put my foot down. Bringing them tonight would have put them directly in The Sainthood’s path, and I’m already risking their lives as it is. I won’t deliberately put them at risk, which is why I’ve already told all of them they are banned from my house whenever Neo is there.
I know firsthand how gangs work. They target friends and family and use them to force cooperation. Over my dead fucking body will Neo use Sariah, Sean, or Emmett to make me toe the line. And that’s the main reason why I’m here tonight. They need to know what’s at stake, and it can’t wait for our diner date. They need to hear this now.
I take another sip of my beer as I consider how best to start this conversation. But, honestly, there’s no good or easy way to say this, so I just rip the Band-Aid off.
“I need to explain some stuff, because things are seriously fucked up. Anyone connected with me is in danger.”
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br /> Emmett sits up straighter, angling his body so he’s looking me more directly in the face. “What kind of danger?”
“The life-ending kind of danger.”
His chest heaves, and he gulps. “What’s going on?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” My eyes move around the room. “I won’t fault anyone for walking away before it gets too deep.”
“I’m all in.” Sariah doesn’t hesitate.
“Sure?”
“Hundo P. I’ve got your back. Always.”
A layer of stress flitters away, and my heart swells at her instant loyalty.
I fucking love this girl so hard. “Right back at ya. I’m always here for you.”
“I’m in too,” Sean says. “You’re as much my friend as Sariah’s, and we don’t abandon friends in times of need.”
I nod, smiling despite the tension swirling in the air. “Truth, and I’d do the same for you.”
I refocus on Emmett, and I won’t hold it against him if he wants no part of this. He’s not as invested as Sariah and Sean, and our friendship is still new. “You need to protect your sister. I totally get that. While I will do everything in my power to keep all of you out of the firing line, if you’re privy to this, I can’t promise they won’t come after you.”
He runs a hand through his messy hair, and strands of dark brown hair tumble over his forehead. “I’m already involved. I’m already on their radar. And no one dictates who I can and can’t hang out with. Provided we’re smart, we can keep my sister out of this.”
“I won’t fault you for walking away, Emmett. You’re the least invested here.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m in. Hit me with it.”
Air whooshes out of my mouth in grateful relief, and I don’t have the words to express how incredible it feels to not be alone. “I love you guys,” I choke out in a momentary burst of emotion.
“We love you too, Harlow,” Sean says. “And whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I know they won’t spill because it’s been years since I’ve cried. I pull myself together, remembering the seriousness of the situation, locking all my emotions up tight again.
The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series) Page 10