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

by Siobhan Davis

  The guys point their guns at the man holding me hostage while Howie keeps the gun pressed to my temple. “Put your weapons down, or I’ll put a bullet through her skull,” Howie says.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Bry roars, throwing his hands in the air. Theo closes the door while Galen and Caz rake their eyes over me from head to toe, checking to ensure I’m not harmed.

  “Something you were too weak to do,” Howie snarls. “Taking back control.”

  “Are you okay?” Saint asks, restraining his bristling anger.

  “I’m fine.” I’m not admitting I’m a little groggy or that I’ve got a monster headache, thanks to whatever he injected me with, because it’ll only turn into a bloodbath, and I want fucking answers.

  “I haven’t hurt her,” Howie says. “And I don’t want to. I want to talk. See if what my brother says is true.”

  “Which is?” Saint asks, still keeping his gun trained on Howie.

  “That we’re on the same side. We both want to see Sinner pay.”

  Saint and Galen trade guarded expressions, and I know what it means. They’re wondering if he can be trusted, and it’s a big ask given the current hostage situation.

  “Why don’t we all put the weapons down,” Theo says. “You untie our wife, and we discuss this calmly like adults.”

  Howie snorts. “What kind of fool do you take me for? Why do you think I did this? I don’t trust any of you punks not to shoot me the instant my guard is lowered. Or to record me and trap me into some admission. I know the way that bastard Sinner works, and he’s trained you all.”

  “Howie, you’re making a big mistake,” Bry says, attempting to negotiate with his brother. “I know them, and I vouch for them. Put the fucking gun down and let Lo go. Please. Jess would not want this.”

  “You didn’t fucking know her!” Howie screams, waving the gun around. “Because that bastard stole your sister’s life before you were even born.”

  “I know enough about Jess from what you’ve told me, and she wouldn’t want to see any woman hurt because of her.”

  “I haven’t hurt Harlow. I’ve taken care of her.”

  He’s got a warped sense of how to treat a woman.

  I’m betting he’s still single.

  Bry steps forward. “Give me the gun, Howie.”

  “You don’t tell me what to do, little brother.”

  Bry exhales heavily. “I’m telling you that if you don’t give me the gun, and let Lo go, you won’t live to see the next hour, because there’s a pissed-off VERO assassin on his way here and he will shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That guy who’s been after you about the recording. That’s who.”

  Howie tsks. “He’s not with VERO. He’s ex-FBI. A PI hired by The Sainthood to get that tape back.”

  So that’s why he’s holding onto that footage. He thinks it’s of some worth to Sinner. I know Diesel was trying to help, and that he can’t blow his cover, but he’s unwittingly sent out a completely different message.

  “That’s a front,” Theo says. “But he is who Bryant says he is and every bit as dangerous.”

  “And he’s not the only one,” Saint adds. “Because the longer you keep my wife hostage, the less I care about what you have to say and the more I dream about riddling your body with bullets.”

  “Shut up, Saintly,” I hiss, because he’s going to get us all killed. “We want to hear what Howie has to say, because he hates Sinner as much as we do. This is stupid, and we’re wasting valuable time. We are not enemies, and I’m not hurt.” I arch my neck, looking back at Howie. “I promise no harm will come to you if you untie me and put your gun down. Look into my eyes, and see the truth there.”

  I’m not expecting it to work, so I’m as shocked as the others when he removes the gun, tucking it into the back waistband of his jeans. “Your turn,” Howie says, eyeballing my guys.

  I stare them down until they’ve lowered their weapons and the threat in the air has dissipated. Howie crouches behind me, pulling out my knife, using it to cut the tape around my wrists.

  My legs are wobbly as I push myself to standing, and Saint darts forward, scooping me into his arms while growling at Howie.

  Flipping my palm up, I bore a hole in Howie’s skull until he sheaths my knife and hands it back to me. I grip it in one hand as I cling to Saint, wrapping my arms and legs around him, because I don’t trust him not to lose the plot and start World War Three in this motel room. Saint sits down on the bed, and I reposition myself so my legs are dangling across his, in a more acceptable manner. I place my knife on the bed beside us.

  “Call your VERO agent off,” Howie says. “I didn’t agree to any meeting with him.”

  “Already done.” Theo confirms what I already know, because there’s no way Diesel has made it back from Europe yet. Plus, the guys would only call on him if they needed backup, which they don’t.

  Bry was calling his brother’s bluff, and it paid off. I nod in Bry’s direction, conveying my thanks.

  “You should know,” I say, eyeing Howie from my seat on Saint’s lap. “That Sinner doesn’t care about that recording. We are the ones who want it back. If you hand it to the authorities, he’d probably pat you on the back and thank you for getting rid of a problem for him.”

  Bry folds his arms across his body, leaning back against the wall, fixing his brother with an “I told you so” look.

  Howie shakes his head. “Sinner would do anything to protect his flesh and blood. It’s why…” He stops himself midsentence, leaning forward on the back of the chair, stabbing Saint with a curious look.

  “Why what?” Saint grits out.

  “Why wouldn’t he do everything to protect his only son?” Howie asks instead of answering Saint’s question.

  “He’s never cared about me,” Saint admits, his voice devoid of emotion. “Even now, he only tolerates me because he’s arrogant enough to want someone carrying his name to continue a tradition of leadership within The Sainthood.”

  “I’ve heard stories. I know what you guys do.”

  “We do what we have to, to survive,” Galen snaps. “That doesn’t mean any of us like it or choose it.”

  CHAPTER 34

  “DON’T YOU GET it?” Caz says. “We were born into this world. All of us, but Theo. Even then, he had little choice when his parents disowned him. Sinner preys on those who are vulnerable, and he manipulates people into carrying out his will.”

  “He’s very good at it,” I add. “And he traps people into corners so there is no way out. That’s why he’s able to get the wider membership to agree to test-drive sex trafficking as a new business model.” My tone drips with disgust, and the air is heavy with tension.

  Howie’s jaw flexes as he stares at Saint in a way that’s starting to make me uncomfortable. If he makes one move against my man, I will flatten his ass to the floor and slice his skin to shreds before he’s even blinked.

  “My brother has told me you’re a prick. How are you any different from your father?”

  Saint turns his head to Bry, arching a brow, seemingly nonplussed about the comparison, but we all know the rage bubbling under the surface, because there is nothing Saint hates more than being compared to that sick psycho bastard.

  Bry levels Saint with an earnest look, not shying away from the truth. “You know you’re a prick. I didn’t tell any lies, but my brother seems to have misinterpreted it.” Bry walks over to Howie, standing in front of him. “Yes, Saint’s a prick. So is Galen. So am I. Lo is a complete bitch at times.”

  I grin, because I take that as a compliment.

  “But I never said Saint was like Sinner, because that’s not true,” he continues. “Saint isn’t like his dad. He isn’t a cold-blooded murdering bastard of women and torturer of children.” He looks over at us, waggling his brows. “He loves Lo, and he’d take a bullet for his cousin and his friends. His loyalty may be hard-earned, but it�
�s steadfast. Sinner doesn’t know the meaning of that word, and he’s incapable of anything even close to love.”

  “Is it true?” Howie asks, clutching the back of the chair.

  There’s a pregnant pause as we all wait to see how Saint responds. I’m wondering why we’re so focused on him and where this is leading, but I’m trying to summon patience. Saint slowly nods. “I hate him. He’s a bully and a psychopath, and I want to put him in jail where he can’t hurt me or anyone I love. He needs to be removed as Sainthood president before his poison infects every part of the organization.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and I know this is tough for him. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s being so open, but there’s a weird vibe in the air, something I can’t put my finger on.

  “When I was little, I was his punching bag,” Saint adds. “Now that I’m older, I’m a minion he pushes around to do his bidding. I’ve always been a means to an end for him. That’s all. I’ve never meant anything else.”

  A crack appears in my heart, and I bleed for my broken man. Inside, I curse Sinner for the damage he’s caused, and I curse his mother for running off and leaving him with a monster.

  A strangled sound rips through the air, and I eye Howie curiously when he drops to his knees on the floor in front of us. Bry stiffens, his brow puckering. Saint goes rigidly still underneath me.

  “I had no idea it was like that for you growing up. I should’ve stayed here. I should’ve taken care of you and Bryant,” Howie says.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Bryant snaps, rubbing his temples.

  Howie gulps, looking up at his brother. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

  Tension is so thick you could slice it with a knife. I cling harder to Saint, because I sense a whirlwind is coming.

  “What are you saying?” Bryant asks, his gaze dancing between his brother and Saint.

  “Sinner didn’t murder your sister because she knew too much,” Howie admits.

  My eyes lift to Galen’s, and I see the moment it registers with him too.

  Holy fuck.

  Howie turns to Saint. “Sinner knocked my sister up when she was just nineteen. She was so sweet, so pure, until she met that bastard,” he hisses.

  My heart is lodged in my throat as I look at Saint’s shell-shocked expression. I can tell he’s connected the dots too. “He ruined her. Abused her. Beat her. Forced her to take drugs even when she was pregnant. Now that I know about his history with Giana, it makes sense. He knocked Jess up on purpose after he found out Giana was expecting Harlow. It was some sick retaliation. I knew Sinner was dangerous the first time I met him, and after I checked him out, I was even more worried. I begged Jess to leave him, but she refused. She loved him up until the end, when he told her point-blank he never loved her, that Giana was the only woman he would ever love.”

  I hold Saint tight, and his body trembles as anger rolls off him in waves. Tears prick my eyes, and I want Howie to be wrong about this, but my gut says he’s telling us the truth.

  “What happened?” Theo asks. “What did Sinner do?”

  Howie eyeballs Saint. “Jess realized what a monster he was, and she planned to run away with her baby. I helped her to get a new ID, and she fled to Texas a couple of weeks before she was due to give birth. I helped her get settled in the little two-bedroom house she found, but I had enlisted by then, and I was gone a few days later.” He swipes at the tears pooling in his eyes. “I should never have left her alone. She wouldn’t let me call our mom because Mom was still grieving our dad plus she was pregnant with Bryant.”

  Bry is as white as a ghost, and it’s obvious this is the first time he’s hearing this.

  Howie maintains focus on Saint. “Sinner found her, and he refused to let her leave until she’d had the baby. Jess gave birth to you in that house, and he took you from her the second you were born.” Tears stream down his face, and I’m fighting to keep my emotions in check. “She never even got to hold you. That bastard listened to her scream and cry and plead for you.” Murderous rage washes over his features. “He killed her right there and then,” he sobs. “Burned her body, and buried what was left of her in the backyard.”

  Saint’s left eye ticks repeatedly, and I rub my hands all over him, trying to get warmth into his cold bones.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this?” Bry demands with his chest heaving.

  “Because I thought it was too late to save Saint, and I knew if you realized who he was that you’d try. I assumed Saint was his father’s son. The stories I’d heard about him seemed to confirm it. I believed that the part of him that shared DNA with us was too deeply buried.” Howie wipes his tears away, standing.

  “How could you leave him with Sinner knowing that?” I cry out.

  “I couldn’t do anything for him from overseas, and my mother was too fragile. Then she killed herself. She was heartbroken when Jess died. I couldn’t tell her she’d been murdered, and she never knew she had a grandson, because I lied. I told her Jess and the baby died in a car accident. I also knew if Sinner murdered my sister because she tried to take his son away from him that there was nothing I could do to rescue him.”

  He hangs his head, and I want to pummel his cowardly body until he’s not breathing.

  I cup Saint’s face, forcing his eyes to mine, but he stares vacantly at me, shielding his emotions, because it’s his usual go-to coping mechanism. My eyes seek Galen’s, and he wears the same concerned mask as me. This might tip Saint over the edge, and I don’t know if any of us can stop him from wreaking havoc.

  “How do you know about the birth?” Bry asks. “What else aren’t you saying?”

  Howie worries his lower lip between his teeth. “I didn’t know exactly what had happened for a long time. It was only after I’d retired from the military and came back to the area that I sought vengeance. I used my contacts and the tools at my disposal as a DEA agent to dig into Sinner’s background. That’s how I found Alisha Lennox.”

  Oh hell to the no.

  Galen freezes, and Saint digs his fingers into my hips, but it’s the only outward sign of emotion.

  “Alisha was there?” Caz asks what we’re afraid to.

  Howie nods. “She told me Sinner forced her to be there. She was pregnant, and he threatened her baby if she didn’t help with the delivery. He blackmailed her into keeping silent about it after, but it tore at her conscience. She wouldn’t talk to me at first, because she was scared, but I followed her one night to a party, and I got her to admit it when she was high.”

  Galen buries his face in his hands, and my heart is rupturing behind my rib cage. My guys are in a world of pain, and we need to get out of here. We need to be alone to process all this. How many times will the sins of our parents continue to hurt us?

  “This is a lot to take in,” I say. “And I know we have other stuff to discuss,” I tell Howie, “but it has to wait. We need to go.” It’s an effort to keep my tone civil when I want to rip that sniveling bastard limb from limb, but I do it for Saint and for Galen, because they need me to be strong right now.

  I climb off Saint, taking his hand and pulling him upright. He hasn’t said one word. Hasn’t made eye contact with anyone, and I’m scared for him. I get that he never knew his mother and he came to terms with her loss long ago, but this has still got to hurt. Sinner lied to him, and now he’s discovered his father is the reason he grew up without his mom. Without love in his life. Saint already despises Sinner, and this will only compound it. He’s a boiling pot of rage waiting to explode, and I’m fearful for what he might do.

  “I’m sorry,” Howie says, but it’s a little too late for apologies. “By the time I found Bryant and I got my act together, I had heard enough about you to know it was too late. I thought you were just like him. I was wrong. I should’ve reached out, tried—”

  “Shut your fucking face,” Saint spits, whipping his hand from mine. He prods Howie in the chest, pushing him back. “I don’t want your apologies or
your pity or your help.” His furious eyes swing in Bry’s direction. “That goes for you too. Stay away from me. Both of you!”

  I’m not surprised he’s lashing out or that his natural reaction is to push them away. Bry isn’t at fault. He was in the dark too. But Howie left Saint with a monster. He didn’t fight for his nephew, choosing to believe the worst of him instead of giving him the benefit of the doubt. And Saint has survived without them this long, I’m guessing he figures he doesn’t need them in his life.

  If I was Saint, I’d be furious, hurt, and disappointed too.

  Saint pushes past me, heading for the door.

  “Cousin.” Galen reaches for Saint, but he slaps his hand away.

  “Don’t!” Saint hisses. “I want to be alone.” He yanks the door open and storms outside.

  I race after him. “Saint, wait!”

  “Leave him, Lo.” Galen pulls me back as Saint climbs behind the wheel of his Land Rover. “He needs to process this his way.”

  Pain stabs me in the chest. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

  “He isn’t.” Galen bundles me into his arms. “He has us. He knows that, and he knows we’ll be waiting for him when he’s ready to talk.”

  CHAPTER 35

  “LO. STOP PACING and come sit down,” Galen says, patting the empty space on the couch beside him.

  “He should be home by now.” I ignore Galen, continuing to wear a line in the floor. “It’s almost eleven. I don’t like him being there by himself.”

  “We know where he is, and he’ll come back when he’s ready.” Theo attempts to reassure me, and the more they attempt to calm me down, the more irritable I become.

  “You’re sure he’s still at the bar?” I inquire, walking to the table where Theo is seated.

  “Yes. Look.” He points at the little red dot on the screen. “That’s where his cell phone has been for the past few hours. He hasn’t moved from Molly’s Bar.”