It’s true even with the connection I share with the others.
Saint knows pain but he doesn’t bury it—he lashes out, and he vents in a physical way. Theo knows pain too, but he throws himself into his work to alleviate his feelings of failure. If Caz is in any pain, he does a fantastic job hiding it behind his legendary humor.
But Galen has succumbed to his pain, and it’s eating him alive in a way the pain used to eat me alive until I learned to control it.
They all need me, but in this moment, I acknowledge Galen needs me more.
I’m not sure I can be who he needs me to be, but I want to try, and that is a huge step forward.
As for forgiveness?
That remains to be seen.
“Ready to bleed for me now, Galen?” I brush my fingers along the upper side of his right arm.
He doesn’t flinch, just stares into my eyes, placing all his trust in me. “Yes. I’m ready to live for you, Lo.”
It’s beautifully poetic and the most perfect thing he could say to me in this moment. I press my lips to his cheek, lingering for a few beats, bathing in his presence. When I ease back, his eyes lock on mine, and we stare at one another, on the precipice of a new beginning.
He nods, and I clasp his arm more firmly, watching his reaction as I bring the dagger to his arm, breaking skin. I feel his intense gaze on me as I dip my head, concentrating while I drag my dagger across his arm, in a diagonal line, marking him in the exact same spot as my arm. Blood spills from the cut, flowing down his arm much like it did mine.
I dip my fingers in his blood, smudging my fingertips as I raise them to my mouth. I stare into his eyes as I place my fingers in my mouth, sucking his blood. His eyes darken, and the air charges around us. My eyes lower to his lips, and I’m tempted to dive in.
Tingles shoot up my arm when his fingers dip into my blood. Watching him bring them to his lips, licking my blood clean off his skin, is sexy as hell.
I smile, and for the first time in ages, it feels like I’m back where I should be.
With my family, my crew.
Like things are finally falling into place.
CHAPTER 23
Harlow
“WOW,” CAZ SAYS as we pull up to Ashley Shaw’s house late Friday night. “This is definitely how the other half live.”
Music blares from the open double doors and windows, and partygoers occupy every spare space of the upper-level balcony that extends along the front of the house and around to the side. Girls and guys from my old school are laughing, chatting, drinking, and dancing under the starless night sky as if they haven’t a care in the world, but I know better.
Everyone has shit to deal with.
Some are just better at hiding it than others.
Galen kills the engine on my Lexus, parking it to one side of the driveway behind a yellow Maserati.
I’ve requested we use my car as much as possible, because Dad and Diesel asked that of me and the safety features are second to none. The guys readily agreed without protest.
Their genuine concern for my safety pricks more holes in the wall around my heart, but I’ve accepted the inevitable—that I’m a lost cause when it comes to my Saints—and I’ve thrown caution to the wind.
The chips will fall where they fall, and there’s no backing out now.
“What kind of asswipe ruins a Maserati by ordering it in yellow?” Saint shakes his head in disgust when we climb out of the car.
“The kind of new-money asswipe you need to win over tonight,” I reply, looping my arm through his. “I suggest you keep such thoughts to yourself. These people will press all your buttons. Just let their shit go over your head.”
“Is that how you did it?” Galen asks, tucking the keys in the pocket of his jeans as we walk toward the front door.
“Pretty much,” I agree. “Also, my rep preceded me. I was ‘that girl,’ the one who’d been kidnapped and cut up, and most people at the academy kept a healthy distance from me.”
“People suck.” Theo threads his fingers through my free hand.
“I figured that out many years ago.” I shoot him an appreciative smile. His hair is smoothed back off his face and styled into a sexy man bun on top of his head. He’s wearing a Muse T-Shirt over faded, ripped skinny jeans with untied boots on his feet, and he looks good enough to eat. “You look hot as fuck.”
Caz snorts from behind, and I glance over my shoulder. “You look hot too.”
They all do tonight.
Caz is wearing a leather jacket over a tight black T-shirt with grayish-black jeans and biker boots. He’s got his eyebrow piercing and lip ring in, and his hair is an artfully messy mess.
Saint’s Supreme T-shirt is molded to his impressive abs, and he’s also wearing ripped jeans and boots.
Galen has a fitted black shirt on, rolled up to the sleeves, showcasing his muscular arms, and his ass looks delectable in tight black jeans. His hair is back in a faux hawk, the tips edged in green.
“I wasn’t fishing for compliments,” Caz says, winking at me. “You two are just too stinking cute for words.” He waves his hand at me and Theo.
“Cute is not the word I’d use to describe our girl tonight.” Theo leans in, kissing my cheek. “You’re straight fire, babe.”
“I think we all scrub up good.” I smooth a hand down over my black glitter minidress. It’s a sleeveless, choker-style bodycon dress that leaves zero to the imagination. I’ve teamed it with skyscraper black stilettos that have spiky silver studs all over them. My hair is pulled back in a slick ponytail, and I went heavy on the makeup.
I used body paint to paint the bandage around the cut on my arm in black so now it looks like part of my outfit. Not that I’m ever embarrassed by any of my scars, but I don’t want to invite questions.
Saint, Caz, and Theo noticed the matching bandages on our arms, but none of them asked about it. At least, they didn’t ask me. Not sure if Saint interrogated Galen or decided to trust that I’m handling shit in my own way.
“Why else do you think I’m hanging back here?” Caz says, waggling his brows at Theo. “Your ass is smokin’ hot in that dress, babe,” he adds, flattening his palm over my butt. He moves his lips to my ear. “I want to slide between those cheeks before the night is over.”
“Play your cards right, and you just might,” I retort, leaning back to peck his lips.
“Lead the way, princess,” Saint says when we reach the front doors, and I untangle my limbs from my guys and push inside Ashley’s extravagant mansion.
I stride through the crowd lining the hallway, heading toward the kitchen at the back of the house, noticing the hush that settles over the space as we advance. My lips twitch as I catch all the lingering glances sent my guys’ way. I knew all the rich bitches would be lusting after them tonight. There’s nothing like the promise of a foul-mouthed, sexy-as-fuck bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks to send hearts racing and dampen panties.
Too bad for them I don’t share.
I reach my arm back, grabbing the nearest hand and tugging.
“Jealous, princess?” Saint whispers in my ear, wrapping his arm around me from behind as we continue walking.
“Don’t play dumb, babe.” I squeeze his hand. “There’s a difference between jealousy and possessiveness.” I angle my head so I’m meeting his eyes. “You’re mine, and those greedy bitches need to know it.”