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

Home > Other > The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series) > Page 87
The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series) Page 87

by Siobhan Davis


  And just like that, our leader has spoken, ending the conversation, much to Theo’s obvious relief.

  _______________

  We leave school early on Wednesday to attend the meeting Diesel has set up with the various interested parties. Not gonna lie, I’m on edge for a whole heap of reasons, but if we can do this—if we can work together—it means Sinner’s end is close, and that’s all that matters.

  Galen blares the music as Saint drives my Lexus to the secret meeting. Following the coordinates Diesel sent us, Saint drives into an industrial park on the outskirts of the bustling town of Grenlow, coming to a halt in front of a small hardware store.

  Saint’s lips pull into a snarl as he parks beside Diesel’s Land Rover, and I smother a smile. The back door opens abruptly, and Diesel leans inside, arms stretched overhead as he holds onto the door frame. “A few things before we go inside,” he says without bothering with formalities. His eyes drop to the necklace on my chest. “You’re wearing it, good. Only activate it once we are in the room. They have mad security here, and I don’t want it to trigger any system.”

  “You don’t trust these guys,” Saint says, spinning around in the driver’s seat.

  “I trust few people and definitely not a group of this size. Many of these men are unknowns, so tread carefully.” His somber gaze roams between us.

  “What else do we need to know?” I ask.

  “Don’t mention the recording we have of Sinner and the board instructing you to kill the commissioner.”

  “Because you don’t trust everyone or it’s something else?” Theo asks, leaning forward on his elbows.

  “We need to be cautious, and until this goes down, I don’t know if we can trust anyone with that intel.”

  “We keep it to ourselves. Got it,” Galen says.

  “What about the FBI agent? He’ll be here, right?” Diesel nods. “Did you meet him the other night?” I inquire.

  “Yes. He’s a good guy, and I believe him when he says he’s on our side. He was only assigned to this case eight months ago, which is a little unusual for a man who’s been an agent for less than four years. But I did some digging, and he graduated top of his class from Quantico, and he continues to impress his bosses, so they gave him a high-profile case in the hopes he would crack it.”

  “Why didn’t he tell you Giana was recruited as an FBI informant?” Galen asks.

  “There was a good reason for that, but I’m not at liberty to disclose it.”

  I exchange suspicious looks with my husbands before clearing my throat and focusing on Diesel. “I thought we agreed to share everything? That we’re a team?”

  “We are a team.” He lets his gaze fall on each one of us. “And I’ve told you things that could get me fired. This is political, and it doesn’t impact what we’re doing. If I felt you needed to know, I would tell you.”

  I peer into his earnest eyes, and I believe him. The guys are all staring at me, letting me decide. “Okay. If you say we don’t need to know, we don’t need to know.”

  His shoulders relax in obvious relief. “Thank you.”

  “Anything else?” Saint glances at the time on his cell.

  “Let me do most of the talking, and only speak if you’re asked a direct question.”

  “Then why the fuck are we here?” Caz asks, checking his weapon.

  “You’re here because I insisted you play a part, but that doesn’t mean any of these people trust you or respect you.”

  “Wow. That’s reassuring,” Galen snarks, twiddling his brow ring.

  “I’m telling you how it is.” Diesel’s tone brooks no argument. “You’re all members of the very organization we are trying to take down.”

  “We’re fucking helping you do it,” Saint barks, glaring daggers at Diesel like this is his fault.

  “And that is how I secured your presence here and got overall agreement. But you are still kids, and—”

  “We’re fucking eighteen,” Saint hisses, leaning forward in his seat. He jabs his finger at Diesel. “We’re adults, not kids.”

  “Galen is only seventeen,” Diesel reminds us. “And it wasn’t meant as an insult.” He stabs Saint with a serious look. “I know your value. I know you are not like normal eighteen-year-olds. I know you are all razor-sharp and that your reasons for taking The Sainthood down are legit and why. I trust you.” Tension splinters the air. “I trust all of you, but that’s because I’m around you and I’ve learned to trust you.”

  That statement is fucking monumental, and I could kiss Diesel for his loyalty.

  “Thank you,” Theo says. “And we trust you too.”

  Diesel’s eyes lift in challenge, pinning in one obvious direction.

  “We do,” Saint agrees after a few silent beats. “Because you’ve proven that to us too.”

  “Can I just say how fucking proud I am of all of you.” I beam like a gratified mother hen. “And you’ve no idea how happy it makes me that you’re all getting on.”

  “Don’t throw a party yet,” Saint drawls. “We won’t be holding hands and singing “Kumbaya” around the campfire anytime soon.”

  “Challenge accepted.” I fold my arms and purse my lips, fighting a smile.

  “Entertaining as this is, we need to move our asses,” Diesel says, dropping his arms and straightening up. “And don’t bother carrying weapons. They’ll just confiscate them.”

  Saint is grumbling over the no-weapons order as we stash our guns and knives in the trunk.

  “Don’t worry, dude,” Caz says, cracking his knuckles and flexing his biceps. “This body is the best weapon known to man. I’m all you need.”

  Saint rolls his eyes, a hint of a smile threatening his lips.

  We trail Diesel into the hardware store, following him as he crosses the room toward the single door at the rear. He punches in a code on the keypad, and we walk through the door in single file, moving along a narrow corridor and down three flights of stairs.

  A man wearing military fatigues with a rifle strapped across his shoulder escorts us into the underground facility hidden beneath the industrial park. It’s massive down here, and we go through various security checkpoints before we’re escorted, on electric carts, to a conference room where the others are waiting.

  A deathly hush descends on the room as everyone stops talking when we enter. My fingers curl around my necklace, in what I hope is a natural nervous gesture, and I subtly press down on it to activate the recording software.

  Diesel introduces us to the men sitting around the table, before we claim seats alongside Howie. Bryant isn’t here because Howie insisted his brother stay away. VERO, Homeland Security, and the FBI aren’t aware of his involvement, and we all agreed it was safer to keep him out of this. We’ll update him after the meeting has ended, so he’s still in the loop.

  “On behalf of my boss, I would like to thank you for returning the missing intelligence files to Homeland Security,” a small, thin man with a mop of dark reddish-brown hair says, opening the conversation.

  We nod, as a group, in acknowledgment.

  “The purpose of today’s meeting is to plan operations for the party on Saturday night,” a tall man with wavy brown hair says. Diesel introduced him as the head of VERO and his boss. We were only given job titles. No names. To protect the privacy of these important pricks. “We will need details of the security systems on the property in Thornton Heights so our people can deactivate it to gain entry.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Diesel says. “Theo will handle it securely and safely from inside the house.” He jerks his head at Theo, urging him to speak.

  “I’ll disable the exterior cameras, to mask your presence, while leaving the interior ones active to record proceedings. I’ll deactivate the security system when you are en route, and Diesel will provide the codes to access the front gate and the entrance doors.”

  Sinner has upped security at Galen’s house in the past few weeks, but there isn’t much Theo can’t do,
and it took him less than three minutes to hack into the system last night and get everything he needs to ensure this happens smoothly.

  “What is the stated objective of the operation?” the FBI representative asks. He’s the youngest person in the room, besides us, but Diesel did say he’s a relatively new FBI agent so it’s not all that surprising.

  “The objective is to take Neo ‘Sinner’ Lennox and the board of The Sainthood down. To force the organization to its knees. To stop the supply of drugs and illegal weapons on the streets. To halt his sex trafficking plans,” Diesel’s boss says, confirming he’s up to date on his intel.

  “How do you see this going down?” Saint asks, earning a warning look from Diesel.

  “We will surround the property while the party is in full swing and wait for the right time to intervene and arrest them.”

  “On what grounds?” I ask, ignoring the heated stare Diesel sends my way. I get that he wants us to be quiet—he’s probably afraid we’ll mouth off—but he knows us well enough by now to know we won’t stay mute.

  “We’ll raid the house and discover the illegal stash he’s hiding in the ballroom.” He uses little air quotes with his fingers, and it just looks weird on a man of his age.

  “He’ll say that it’s not his,” Galen cuts in.

  Diesel exhales heavily, sitting back in his chair with a resigned look on his face. If we weren’t surrounded by these pricks, I know he’d roll his eyes or call us out for blatantly disregarding his instructions.

  “And you can be damn sure you won’t find any fingerprints on any of the supplies,” Saint says.

  “He’ll pin it on my mom,” Galen adds. “I don’t want her caught in the crosshairs.”

  “If you’d let me speak,” the VERO boss man snipes, clearly agitated. “It’s a two-fold strategy. We’re relying on you to manipulate him into incriminating himself. Get him to admit he killed Daphne Leydon and he conspired to murder the commissioner.” From the lack of surprise on everyone’s faces, it’s clear they are all aware of what went down.

  Commissioner Leydon’s state funeral took place yesterday, but the people in this room know it was a ruse. That the commissioner is alive and well and hiding in a government safe house until Sinner is arrested and he can come back from the dead.

  “And what if they can’t get him to fess up?” Howie asks. There’s another DEA agent with him, because Howie is still officially on extended leave from the Drug Enforcement Administration, or maybe they know he’s a bit of a loose cannon and they don’t trust him to represent them alone today.

  “They must,” Diesel’s boss says. “Otherwise, what the fuck are we doing here today?”

  “We’ll get him to admit it,” Saint says, confidence blistering in his tone.

  “And what then?” the FBI agent asks, drilling a look at Diesel’s boss.

  “The drugs and guns seizure will enable us to detain them while we search The Sainthood properties and gather enough evidence to pin him for the murder and conspiracy to murder charges,” he says. “Then we build a solid case and put him away for life.”

  “We want possession of the drugs and firearms,” Howie’s DEA colleague says.

  Diesel’s boss nods. “That’s already agreed.” He throws a bunch of pages down in the middle of the table. “VERO and Homeland can’t have fingerprints on this. As far as the public will know, this was a joint effort between the FBI and DEA to take down the country’s most notorious criminal organization.”

  A muscle clenches in Saint’s jaw, and Galen’s hands grip the armrest on his chair tight. Theo remains impassive while Caz rubs his hands along his thighs.

  “What if we don’t find the Leydon evidence?” the FBI agent asks. “A confession alone may not be enough to convict him. I thought you wanted to wait until the missing evidence was located?”

  “We don’t have time for that now. Sinner is expanding his business, and the last thing we need is the streets flooded with kidnapped sex slaves. He is too dangerous to sit on this any longer. Especially now he’s wiped the board with his competition. If we must put him away for the drugs and firearms charges while we build a more stable case for other crimes, so be it.” He puffs out his chest. “The objective now is to get him off the streets. By any means necessary.”

  CHAPTER 43

  NEWS OF THE Arrows arrest is all over TV screens and splashed across internet headlines on Saturday. While full details are only emerging, the reports confirm that several members of the board were responsible for the brutal Roark family slaying all those years ago.

  Caz comes with me to visit Sean after breakfast, and I explain how Bry had the evidence proving involvement of The Arrows and how a friend helped us get it into the right hands within the FBI.

  But the arrest is not just for the cold case.

  When FBI agents raided The Arrows warehouse, they found a ton of dead bodies—casualties from the shootout with The Sainthood. Although The Arrows didn’t kill their own guys—and they are no doubt pointing the finger of blame at The Sainthood—with no weapons and no traceable bullets, there is no evidence to haul The Sainthood in for that.

  Darrow’s body was among the bodies found in the warehouse, but I feel zero remorse. Darrow dug his own grave.

  It plays out how we planned it with reports confirming Taylor Tamlin assassinated the commissioner and ended up dead when her partnership with Darrow Knight turned sour. Media speculation suggests The Arrows retaliated by killing one of their own because he risked the entire crew through his actions.

  “The power these men have is sickening,” Theo says while we lounge in the main living room in Galen’s house on Saturday afternoon.

  “It’s scary as fuck,” Caz agrees, helping Galen to load more logs on the fire. Galen spends a fortune on heating this old house, and it’s still cold as fuck. I’d wager it’s colder inside than outside today. My pebbled nipples prod against my hoodie, and I pull the blanket higher over my body, snuggling closer to Saint on the couch.

  “What we’re doing tonight is risky as fuck.” Saint peers distantly into the flames. “Who’s to say they won’t arrest us too?” he adds before taking a swig from his beer.

  “Diesel won’t let that happen,” I reply, plucking the beer from his fingers and lifting it to my lips.

  “I trust Granddad, but—”

  “That’s a sentence I never thought would leave your lips,” I admit, cutting across him.

  “Pay up.” Caz shoulder checks Galen. “Told ya.”

  I arch a brow as Galen plops down on my other side. He leans forward, glaring at his cousin. “Fuck you, Saintly. You’ve just cost me a fifty.”

  Saint glares at him, because he doesn’t like to be reminded he’s changing. Also, he fucking hates being interrupted midsentence, and Galen is bearing the brunt of that frustration.

  Saint’s jaw tenses and then loosens. “As I was saying, before you all decided to be buttheads, I trust the perv, but we don’t know the others won’t double-cross him. His boss is a self-serving prick who’d throw anyone under the bus if it got him what he wants.”

  “I don’t disagree,” I say. “I didn’t like him either, but what choice do we have? This is our best opportunity to end this, and no plan is without risk.”

  “We have to trust in Diesel and the plan,” Theo says. “It will work.”

  “What are you doing with your mom?” I ask Galen.

  “Locking her in her room until it’s over. Mrs. Murphy will stay with her. I’ll warn her not to come out, no matter what she hears.”

  “Maybe we should move them to the barn,” I suggest.

  Galen shakes his head. “We can’t be sure Sinner doesn’t know about our place, and I’d prefer to keep her near.”

  “You don’t trust her not to ditch Mrs. Murphy and look for a good time,” Saint says, and Galen nods.

  “We should check the ballroom,” Galen suggests, rubbing a spot between his brows. “Make sure the stash is still there.”

/>   “I thought you checked yesterday.” I hand the beer back to Saint.

  “We did, but we weren’t here last night. We should double-check to be sure it’s still there,” Galen adds, standing.

  “Sit,” Theo says, his fingers tapping over his tablet. “I’ll check the camera feeds for the last twenty-four hours.”

  We absently watch the TV reports while Theo works his magic, and I run my hand over the ink on Saint’s hands while snuggled into his side.

  “Holy. Fuck.”

  We all sit upright at Theo’s outburst, sharing wary looks. “What is it?” I ask, almost afraid to look. “Is it gone?”

  Theo lifts his head from his tablet, shock splayed across his face as he shakes his head. “It’s worse. Look.” He turns the screen around, and we watch with mounting horror as at least twenty young girls are frog marched into the ballroom and shoved into the hidden compartment under the floor. The timestamp on the screen shows this happened at four a.m.

  The girls are disheveled—their clothes torn, skin dirty, and hair greasy and knotted. Their fear is palpable as they cry out in Spanish, their bodies trembling, lips wobbling, and tears streaming down their faces, as they cling to one another, clearly terrified.

  I jump up, and the blanket falls to the floor. “We have to get them out of there.”

  Saint tugs on my arm, pulling me back. “Babe.” Strain etches across his handsome face. “We can’t.”

  “They could die!” I don’t know if there’s enough oxygen down there, and from the state they are in, it’s obvious they haven’t eaten or drank in some time. “We need to help them.”

  “Angel.” Galen cups my face as Saint pulls me on his lap. “The best way to help them is to let the FBI find them tonight. They can identify Sinner and his men as the ones who put them there. It helps solidify the case against him.”

  “They can still do that even if we release them now!” I argue, needing to do something.

  “Sinner could check before the party, and if they’re gone, it will tip him off,” Caz says, pinning me with a sympathetic look.

  “I know this kills you, Lo,” Theo says. “It’s killing all of us, but they will be free in a few hours. We’ve got to let this play out.”

 

‹ Prev