She knows all this, and she won’t want to do anything to draw attention to herself, so she stays quiet, and I get to torment her in peace.
It’s juvenile and petty, and completely beneath me, but I’ll take the enjoyment where I can.
By the way she hightails it out of class, I know she’s pissing her pants, and I fully intend to torture her any chance I get over the next couple weeks. By then, we should have a plan to ruin her.
“You enjoyed that,” Caz says, coming up to my desk as I stash my books.
“Not as much as I’d enjoy breaking her nose and shoving her teeth down her throat,” I honestly reply.
He slings his arm around my waist, steering me out of the room. “I’m starting to forget what it was like before you barged your way into our lives.”
“Dull and boring as fuck,” I quip, leaning my head on his shoulder in a rare show of vulnerability.
“Hey.” He stops in the middle of the hallway, tipping my chin up. “She’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that, Caz.” I shake my head, worrying my lip between my teeth. “What if she’s not? She’s my best friend. The only person I truly know to have my back no matter what.”
He brushes hair off my face. “We’ve got your back, princess.” He rubs his thumb along my cheek, peering deep into my eyes. “The question is, do you have ours?”
_______________
Thursday is one strange as fuck day. I wake up to Mom perched on the edge of my bed with her finger pressed to her lips. “There’s no cameras in here, right?” she whispers, anxiously looking around.
I rub sleep from my eyes as I straighten up in the bed. “No,” I confirm over a yawn. “I removed them. Why?”
She glances at the fading hickeys on my neck, frowning. “I need to ask you something.” She moves her gaze to my face, straightening up. “Did you take anything from the study after Dad died?”
If Mom’s asking questions, I guess something must’ve gone down or Sinner is resorting to her doing his dirty work.
Sneaky prick.
And he obviously thinks I’m a complete idiot.
“No, of course not,” I say, deliberately appearing confused. “What would I have taken? I did find Saint and the guys in there recently going through Dad’s stuff, so maybe, you should ask them.”
“I will,” she says, but she can’t look me in the eye, so I know she’s lying.
“What’s going on, Mom?” I’m not expecting her to tell me, but there’s still some teeny, tiny part of me that’s hopeful.
She stares at me for ages without speaking, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. It’s the first time we’ve been this close for weeks, and I’m only now noticing the purple shadows under her eyes and the newly formed worry lines at the corners of her mouth. Her voice cracks a little when she eventually speaks. “I know our relationship is a little tenuous right now, but I need to ask you for something.”
Is this woman for real? A little tenuous? Try it’s fractured and splintered with little chance of salvation. And she’s the nerve to ask something of me? Not fucking likely. Still, curious minds want to know. “What is it?”
“Stay out of the house as much as you can over the next few days.”
“Why?”
She knots her hands in her lap. “Just stay out of Neo’s way, sweetheart.”
He definitely suspects something.
“Why?” I repeat even though I know she won’t tell me anything.
“Just do it, honey. Please. Do it for Daddy.”
And that was totally the wrong thing to say. My jaw hardens, and I glare at her. “If that’s everything, you can leave.”
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and she runs her hands through her unbrushed hair. Tears well in her eyes, but I’m immune.
She’s reached a new low now.
Putting that bastard’s needs before mine.
Coming here to try to extract information from me to pass on to him.
I am so done with her.
She swipes at the moisture spilling down her cheeks, standing and walking toward the door. She falters, turning to face me one final time. “And you should stay the hell away from those boys too,” she adds, as if she cares. “I don’t want to see you throwing your life away.”
So, my day is off to a great start with that awesome conversation, and it only goes downhill from there.
At school, I come close to stabbing Beth purely because I need to vent my rage in someone’s direction and she’s the most likely victim. I sit with the guys in the cafeteria at lunch, toying with the knife in my hand as I glare at her across the tables.
“Put that away,” Saint says, staring straight ahead as if he’s not speaking to me. Things are even weirder than normal between us. He’s building walls around himself, and with every passing day he appears to grow more and more frustrated with me.
Is it because he resents what’s happening between us too or there’s more to it?
“Eat shit and die,” I retort, stabbing my knife into my apple and slicing it into wedges.
Galen slouches in his chair, folding his arms and crossing his ankles as he shoots Saint a knowing look. Saint ignores him, and Theo watches the interactions with the cunningness of an expert spy. Caz looks troubled, shoveling pasta into his mouth, looking like he’s not even enjoying it.
“Hey, you want to get out of here?” Emmett asks, no doubt feeling the horrid tension too, and I’m grabbing my bag before he’s even finished asking the question.
“We’re ditching to hang out at the hospital,” Sean adds, crumpling his uneaten sandwich up as he stands.
“I’m there.” I clean my knife on the back of a paper towel and sheath it. “Let’s go,” I say, walking away from the table without looking back.
_______________
Grandma Lorna envelops me in a giant hug the minute I step foot in Sariah’s hospital room. Sean immediately goes to Sariah’s bedside, taking her hand, while Emmett walks to the window, looking out over the bleak landscape outside. “You look like someone who needs a hug,” she says, squeezing me tight.
She’s not wrong. It’s been a shitty week and a particularly shitty day. But compared to my bestie, things are all rainbows and unicorns for me, so I tell myself to snap out of it and quit feeling sorry for myself. “Is there any change? Has the doctor been around to see her yet today?”
“No change,” she replies, letting me go. “And he was here an hour ago. Her vitals are the same.” She slumps down in the chair, looking sad and tired. Lorna is Sariah’s mom’s mom. She had kids early, as did her daughter, so she’s young for a grandma and still in her fifties. Yet looking at her now, she looks like she’s aged twenty years overnight.
I sit down beside her, patting her hand. “Why don’t you take a break? Get something to eat in the cafeteria and maybe take a walk. I’ll stay with her.”
Sean takes a long hard look at Sariah’s only remaining family and obviously agrees. “That’s a great idea. I haven’t eaten either. I’ll come with you.”
Sean takes Lorna’s arm and escorts her out of the room.
“This must be so hard for her,” Emmett says.
“I know. It must’ve almost killed her losing her daughter, her son-in-law, and her other grandkids in such a gruesome way. Seeing Sariah like this must be breaking her heart.”
“How are you holding up?” he asks, moving to sit beside me.
“I’m fine. Worried, obviously, but I’ve had lots of practice at blocking shit out. I’m not thinking about the what-ifs. I’m just focusing on being here.” I lean forward and take Sariah’s hand, comforted at the warmth radiating from her skin. “Time to wake up, babe. I know you’re going to because you didn’t survive all those years ago to give up now.” I kiss her brow. “C’mon, Sar. Wake up.”
I need you. You’re the only one who can help me sort through this mess.
I send those thoughts out to the universe, hoping someo
ne up there hears me and takes pity.
_______________
I ignore Mom’s warning, returning to the house shortly after nine p.m. The downstairs is empty, so Mom and Neo must be out again. The sound of the TV wafts from the basement, and I’m guessing the guys are in their den, as usual. I’ve no desire to see any of them, so I trudge up the stairs to my room. Raised voices in the upstairs hallway root my feet at the top of the stairs, and I press my body into the small alcove, peering around the curve of the wall.
Sinner is jabbing his finger in Saint’s chest, his mouth twisted into a cold sneer, as he threatens him.
“I told you I have it covered,” Saint says, standing his ground and refusing to be intimidated. It helps that he’s a couple inches taller than his dad. “You are freaking out over nothing.”
Sinner stares at his son as he scrubs a hand over his jaw. “I hope you’re right. For all your sakes.”
“I’ve got this, Dad.”
Neo’s sinister smile slips off his face, and he nods. “You have the instincts of a natural born leader.” He slaps his son on the back. “That’s why I don’t want you to get distracted by pussy even if she is one hot piece of ass.”
“I’m playing Harlow perfectly.” Saint’s smug grin rubs me the wrong way, and pain rips across my chest.
Sinner squeezes Saint’s shoulder, digging his fingers into his flesh in a way I know hurts. “I wonder if the daughter is as good a fuck as the mom.” A sly sneer spreads over his mouth. “I might have to test that theory.” He waggles his brows, and I puke a little in my mouth.
“Maybe, we can swap some time,” Saint suggests with an equally matching sneer. “And compare notes after.”
Neo roars out laughing, grabbing his son into a headlock. “That’s my boy!” He lets him go before thumping him in the arm. “Come with me.” He lifts one shoulder. “I’ve something in my room I want to give you.”
I watch them walk off as the tornado brews to epic proportions inside me. I slip into my room, lock the door, and dump my backpack on the bed, kicking off my boots and throwing my jacket on the floor.
I don’t hesitate. I don’t stop to second-guess myself or give it any more thought.
Fuck this shit. And fuck that asshole. Fuck all the Saints.
I take out my burner cell and send Darrow the message I should have sent him last Sunday.
“Take that for perfect play, asshole,” I say out loud, grinning as I lock my bedroom window and head for the shower.
CHAPTER 31
I SPEND A sleepless night, tossing and turning in bed, after the initial euphoria faded, wondering if I’ve made a colossal mistake. But it’s too late to take it back now.
After I’m showered and dressed, I throw the burner cell on the ground and smash it to smithereens with the heel of my boot. It’s like kryptonite now, and I need to dispose of it. I have a stash of burner cells, thanks to Diesel, so I can afford to toss this one. Wrapping the broken pieces in an old cloth, I place it in my bag. I’ll get rid of it later, dumping it someplace it can’t be traced back to me.
The guys are a no-show in the kitchen, and they don’t turn up at school either, which does little to calm my nerves. I’m on edge all day, snapping and barking at people left and right. An ominous sense of dread builds momentum inside me, and I just know things are going to go belly up.
I stop by the hospital, but I don’t stay long, because I want to get home and talk to Saint. I might be making an even bigger mistake, but I think I need to tell him what I’ve done. The more I reflect on the conversation I overheard last night, the more I believe he was lying to his dad.
It’s what I’ve been doing to my mom.
And I know I’m not the only one who feels the connection between us. I know he has feelings for me despite what he told Sinner.
Caz’s question has been niggling at me all week too. He asked if I had their backs, and it sounded like a test.
I think my initial gut instinct was correct.
I think the guys purposely had that conversation in Galen’s bedroom to trap me.
I could be wrong. Maybe I’m grasping at straws because I want to know they care, but, even if I am, this is still the best course of action. The best way of conducting damage control.
The house is in darkness when I return, and all the guys’ cellphones are switched off. I wear a line in my bedroom floor as I wait for them to come back.
It’s after two a.m. when I eventually hear cars driving up the driveway. They are quiet as they trek up the stairs, disappearing into their bedrooms without talking.
I wait a couple minutes, fighting a sudden bout of nerves before I kick them aside.
I’m a goddamn queen, and if I fucked up, I will own that shit.
Pulling a light sweater on over my tank top and sleep shorts, I open and close the door softly, locking it behind me. I walk to Saint’s door, pick the lock, and enter his bedroom without invitation. This conversation needs to happen one on one, and I don’t want the others interfering so I can’t risk knocking and them hearing. Galen will lose his shit if he finds out what I’ve done, Theo will be disappointed, but I think Caz will be pleased I’m fessing up.
As for Saint, I’m not entirely sure how he’s going to react.
I close the door, scanning the empty room. The bathroom door is ajar, steam wafting out, the noise of water hitting off the tiles confirming he’s in the shower. For a brief second, I consider joining him. Sex might butter him up. But I dismiss it almost as quickly. I’m not going to manipulate his reaction. I will handle whatever crap he throws at me with my head held high.
I sit on the edge of his bed, stretching my bare legs out in front of me, while I wait for him to emerge.
He walks out of the bathroom five minutes later, materializing in a cloud of steam, water dripping down his chiseled abs, disappearing into the towel slung low around his hips. He sees me and stops, staring at me in that alluring way of his, as if he’s staring straight through to my soul. It takes huge amounts of willpower to avoid drooling over his gorgeous body, especially when he’s only wearing a teeny towel. I find myself jealous of the beads of water clinging to his tan skin, and that’s just pathetic.
I clear my throat and shake the haze from my brain, lifting my eyes to his stunning face. His jaw is clamped tight, a muscle flexing as tension swirls around us. “We need to talk,” I say, standing.
He walks right up to me, leaving only a miniscule gap between our bodies. “Yeah. We do.”
“I fucked up,” I blurt. “But I want to make it right.”
He walks to his dresser, with his back to me, and drops the towel. “I’m listening.” His voice is gruff, his naked ass delectable, and I’m having a hard time concentrating.
Get a fucking grip, Harlow! You’re acting like some hormone-crazed teenager. Note to snarky voice in my head—I am a hormone-crazed teenager.
Saint stares at me over his shoulder, his lips pulling into a knowing smirk. Asshole knows what he does to me. But at least, he’s not wound up too tight. Maybe this might be all right.
“Put some damn pants on and stop distracting me,” I hiss, finally dragging my eyes from his ass. I drop back down on the edge of the bed, focusing on the floor.
“Start talking, princess.” His tone brooks no argument.
So, I do, telling him everything about my deal with Darrow, how I planted the cameras in their rooms, and sent Dar a message with the coordinates of The Sainthood’s warehouse.
The mattress dips as he sits down beside me. Thankfully, he has sweats on, but those lick-worthy abs are all up in my face, newly testing my self-control. “Why are you telling me this?” he asks.
This is the real hard part. I look him straight in the eye. “Because it didn’t feel right to betray you.” I pause for a beat. “I don’t want to betray any of you.”
It’s the truth, but how do I separate them out from the larger organization who still must answer for their crimes?
And how m
uch have the guys been privy to?
How involved are they?
These were some of the questions keeping me awake last night.
“So why did you?”
“I overheard you and Sinner talking last night.” This is embarrassing to admit, but I can’t hold back. “I was enraged when I heard you both joking about swapping me and my mom. I flipped and let my emotions get to me. Instead of stopping to cool down, I just went into my bedroom and messaged Dar. I’ve spent all day regretting it.”
He smooths a hand over the top of his head, dragging his fingers across the shorn blond locks, frowning. “Are you saying you only told Darrow last night? Not on Sunday when you heard our conversation?”
“Yeah, it was last night. Why?”
He pinches his lips, looking deep in thought, and I wait him out. “Because The Arrows started making plans on Monday. We caught a couple of their guys scoping out the location in the dead of night.”
“They already knew?” My brow creases. “How?”
He stands and paces. “I don’t know. We thought you’d told him. That you’d fallen for our trap.”
I rise. “So, you were trying to trick me? You’ve known about the cameras all along?”
Saint rolls his eyes. “C’mon, Lo. You’re way smarter than this.”
“You’ve been deliberately messing with my head.”
He walks right up to me, grabbing the back of my neck. “At the start, yes. But not recently. We’ve begun to realize you’re not our enemy. We set this as a test, to see if we could trust you.”
“I guess I failed, huh?”
“You’ve just proven yourself now.”
I focus on the other part of his statement. “Why did you think I’m your enemy? And why didn’t you just come out and ask me about it?”
“Why didn’t you?” he asks in a softer tone.
I sigh, wondering how best to answer that. We both know this is more than just their trap. “Because I wasn’t going to do it.”
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