He tossed me a black pair made from the same soft cotton. “Don’t even think about hiding.”
“I do not hide.”
“Good, cos you’ll never need to here. They know who I am.”
He wrenched the door open as I tugged on the sweatpants.
The weary face of Saint Malone stared back at us.
21
Alexei
Somehow, Saint was wetter than we were. Water mixed with the blood spilling from his split eyebrow, and he was soaked to the bone from the torrential rain I’d failed to notice while I’d been wrapped up in Cam.
Cam grabbed a towel and waved Saint into the room.
Saint cast a glance at me. I gave him a subtle nod and he stepped over the threshold, ignoring the towel as he closed the door behind him and leaned against it.
“What the fuck happened?” Cam demanded. “I’ve had Rocco St John and some Sambini cunt up my arse thinking you’ve lifted Frank Crow, Drummer, and the heir to the throne and dumped them in a dungeon somewhere.”
The confusion in Saint’s bewitching gaze was instant. He pushed off the door and moved to the window. “That’s why?”
“Why what?”
“They’re everywhere. I couldn’t get to the truck.”
You didn’t need to. I handled it.I’d tell him later; it was pointless not to when it was him who’d summoned me to that place.
That means he’ll know what you did.
It bothered me less than it should’ve done.
Cam had followed Saint halfway to the window. Then he stopped and looked back at me as if caught between us.My sweet biker boy.I met his earnest gaze and tapped my eyebrow before pointing to Saint’s back.He’s bleeding.
“I need to get the first aid kit,” Cam said.
“For Alexei?” Saint didn’t turn around. “He needs stitches.”
I snorted. “That is dramatic.”
“Tape, then. I can do it for you.”
“It’s true,” Cam said. “Saint’s good with blood and gore.”
“You are not?”
“He’s better.” Cam glanced at Saint again, then retreated to the door.
He disappeared through it, leaving me alone with Saint as thunder rolled outside.
“I think he loves you,” Saint murmured. Still, he did not turn around.
I moved closer to him, eyeing his wet clothes, ignoring the skip in my chest at his words.It doesn’t matter.Youdon’t matter. “I think he lovesyou.”
Saint made a low sound. A tortured sound. “He doesn’t love me. Not like that.”
“You are so sure of something you’ve never asked him?”
