Page 125 of Hostile Saint

With a voice low and full of sorrow, Lynx promised me, “This changes nothing between you and me. You’re mine. That’s still a fact, something I will vow with blood if you need me to.”

What? Vow with blood? My head quickly found its proper perch on my shoulders that were now stiff as a rock. “Why would you say that?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, fuck.” Fear raced through me. “What am I missing now?”

“Pup, I need you to chill the fuck out.”

“What kind of experiments did they do on her? And why would it change how you see me—”

Ah, no, no, no…

“Kid,” warned my Prez, “we don’t know if those scientists ever touched you.”

“Well, then, why are you even mentioning—” Like a glass of ice water had been thrown in my face, I understood. “My mother.”

Lynx didn’t answer, but his glare told me I was on point.

My jaw dropped as more awareness hovered. “Before she got pregnant with me, they experimented on her.”

He bit on the inside of his cheek.

I looked back to the damaged door. “Vice wasn’t worried that someone had broken in.” I looked back to Lynx as I started to shake. “He was worried about me. With you.”

Whatever they knew about my mom, they were worried how it had been passed down to her offspring.

As Charlie whimpered at my growing dread, Lynx’s jaw locked. “Vice and I will have words for him ever doubting you.”

“No. Don’t you dare punish him for protecting you.”

He looked away.

“Lynx, I need you to promise me, right fucking now! If he ever failed to watch over you, I’d hate his guts.”

He looked back at me… then gave me a curt nod.

“Okay.” I peered around nervously. “Okay.” I blew out a shaky breath. Then my voice wobbled, “Did they experiment on my dad?”

Staring at me, Lynx shook his head.

That’s why they didn’t kidnap him, too.

On the verge of complete panic, I asked, “Lacey’s mom?”

He hesitated, then slowly shook his head again.

Patting my chest, I begged, “Please. Tell me something. This is my life. Not club rules.”

After a pause, he said, “Lacey’s mom was part of the experiments, but not as a victim, son.” He exhaled… “She was a nurse. An assistant.”

I could feel my shoulders cave to the point my upper body was almost in my lap. “W-What?” I had envisioned her as a part of my parents’ love story, not an evil villain. “But she ran with them.”

“She did, but because… she had helped them escape.”

My vision blurred as I thought of my dad on the video, “…two of us…”

“Hang in there, kid. I believe she was trying to right a wrong, couldn’t handle kids being tortured anymore.”