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 someone up there hears me and takes pity.
_______________
I ignore Mom’swarning, 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
ISPEND Asleepless 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.
