He sits up straighter against the headrest, pulling me with him. “I never dared imagine this for myself,” he says, trailing his fingers up and down my arm. “I scoffed at love.”
I snort, snuggling in closer to his side. Tell me something I didn’t know.
“I didn’t purposely shut you out, Lo.” He tips my face up with one finger. “I just reacted on autopilot. The others are used to me. They let me lick my wounds, and then Galen is usually the one bandaging me up after.”
I sit up fully, palming his beautiful face. “They can still do that, but you need to make room for me.”
“I don’t have to make room, my queen.” He takes my hand, placing it over his heart. Steady beats thrum under my fingertips, soothing any leftover frayed parts of me. “You’re already there.”
“How are you feeling today?” I ask, peering into his slightly bloodshot eyes.
“Like I drank my weight in whiskey and my wife rode me raw in the middle of a storm on a muddy forest floor.”
My grin is instant and wide. “It was hot as fuck.”
He tugs on my earlobe, and I shriek. “You’re hot as fuck.”
I peck his lips, moving my hand up to his face again. “Seriously. Are you okay? About what you learned?” He needs to talk about this, not bottle it up.
“I’m pissed,” he admits. “I grew up thinking my mom abandoned me. That I wasn’t worthy enough of her love. That shit hurt, but I never allowed myself to think about her, because she hadn’t earned that right.” Air whooshes out of his mouth, and his lips pull into a grimace. “Then Sinner started dropping hints, suggesting there was more to the story, but I didn’t indulge it. I couldn’t. We have too much shit going on. But last night changed all that.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “She cared enough to risk her life by running away when she was pregnant with me.” His chest lifts in a shuddering breath. “That changes everything. She’s not the pathetic, weak bitch I’d built her up to be in my mind.” Tears well in his eyes, before he brushes them away, and a cold, hard glint replaces the emotion. “That bastard stole my mother from me. And why?” He shakes his head, shrugging. “It’s not like he ever wanted me.”
“No one takes anything from him,” I quietly say. “It’s always about power and control.”
Saint nods, absently dragging his fingers across my collarbone and the swells of my breasts, stirring desire in my belly again. “I hate him, Lo.” His baby blues pin me in place. “Like really loathe him.”
“I know, baby.” I knead the knotted muscles in his shoulders.
“I stopped myself from going after him about a hundred times last night. I want to fucking end him,” he says, through gritted teeth. “But I can’t fuck things up. There are too many balls in the air. I’m just worried I won’t be able to hold back, because I want to rip him apart. I want to stab him over and over and over again. To hurt him in all the ways he’s hurt me.”
“We have even more reason to make him pay now. And he will, Saint. He’s going to pay for all the ways he has hurt us.”
_______________
“Are you sure this is wise? Maybe we should drop by school and pick the others up?” I suggest, glancing at Saint from the passenger seat of my Lexus. He insisted on driving, and I didn’t argue, because he needs to take back control, and I’ll do what I can to help him feel more secure in himself.
“Sinner’s issue is with you and me. Let’s leave them out of it.”
I nod, trusting him to play this the right way.
Sleek, freshly washed and dried hair falls over my shoulder as I peer out the window, watching the landscape flash by. The rain eventually stopped in the middle of the night, but large puddles fill the potholes in the road, and moisture clings to the grass and tips of the trees as we drive the long way around Prestwick Forest.
Saint parks directly outside Sainthood HQ, cutting the engine. “Follow my lead in there, but…intervene if I lose my temper.”
I stretch over the console and kiss him. “I’ve got your back, and you’ll keep your cool.”
We walk hand in hand inside the enemy’s lair, taking the stairs two at a time until we reach the upper level where the offices and meeting rooms are.
Saint raps on his father’s office door twice before opening it.
A naked blonde with giant fake tits is bouncing on Sinner’s cock like it’s a new sport. Glancing over her shoulder, she licks her lips as her gaze roams Saint. “Wanna join in?” she asks, deliberately ignoring my presence. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a father and son.”
Sinner sits back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head, flaunting that shit-eating grin I hate so much.
Saint smirks, slinging his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in close. “Nah. I don’t fuck nasty whores. Got my queen right here, and she’s the real deal.”
“Unlike your plastic tits,” I deadpan, while she continues bouncing on Sinner’s dick like they don’t have an audience. Sinner makes no move to get rid of her, grabbing her hips and slamming her down harder on his cock. She moans on cue, and I roll my eyes. “Welp, it seems you’re over my mother.” I grace him with a sickly-sweet fake smile, knowing this will push him into action. “So, we don’t need to talk.” I move to turn around. “We’ll let you get back to her piss-poor replacement.”
“Ow!” The woman cries as Sinner flings her off his dick, sending her tumbling to the ground.
“Get the fuck out,” he roars, not even looking at her as he stands. His gross dick is still hard, bobbing against his toned stomach. The woman grabs her clothes from the floor, clutching them to her chest, shoving against us in her haste to exit the room. Saint slams the door shut after her with his booted foot.
Sinner stares at me as he slowly bends, pulling his jeans up his legs, taking his sweet-ass time tucking his disgusting cock away.
I honestly think he thinks I’m into him.
There are no words.
Plastering a bored look on my face, I hold his stare as he gets dressed, refusing to let him get to me.
“Sit,” he snaps, thrusting his dirty-blond hair back off his face before reclaiming his seat. We take seats in front of his desk, side by side, leaning back casually, both eyeballing the bastard, waiting for him to make a move. “Where is your mother?!” he shouts. A vein throbs in his neck, and his muscles strain with tension.
“I don’t know,” I truthfully reply.
The desk rattles when Sinner thumps his fist on the wood. “Stop. Lying. I know you know. That you helped her.” He glares at Saint. “And you!” He jabs his finger in his son’s direction. “Have you forgotten where your loyalties lie, boy?”
Saint digs his nails into his thigh. “Hardly. We took care of the scene, didn’t we?”
That was for Mom’s benefit, but Sinner’s arrogant enough to believe that falsehood.
Spit flies out of Sinner’s mouth, and his nostrils flare as he leans across the desk, pinning me with a lethal look. “I’d put money on you being the one who put ideas in Giana’s head. She’d never pull a gun on me without provocation.”