His gaze whips to Theo for a split second before he refocuses on me. “We didn’t pull any shit. That asshole who shares my DNA lost his goddamned fucking mind.”
“It’s easy to point the finger of blame when he wasn’t the one giving the orders.” I shove at him, pushing him back a couple steps. I stretch my arms out to the side. “You want me dead, take your best shot. I’m unarmed,” I lie. “Or don’t you have the guts to do it yourself? Is that why you wanted Darrow to do your dirty work for you?”
He launches at me so fast I have no time to react. Wrapping his arms around me, he buries his face in my shoulder. His chest heaves, and his body trembles against me.
If he’s role-playing, he’s one hell of an actor.
I don’t attempt to escape his embrace because I know it’s futile, but I don’t return his hug either, standing mute like a statue as he clings to me. After a couple minutes, he lifts his head, piercing me with no barrier between us. “If I wanted you dead, princess, I’d pull the trigger myself. I never shirk my responsibilities.”
And that’s about the only thing he could say that I’d believe. Because that is the Saint I know.
“He’s telling the truth. I acted alone.”
Blood boils in my veins at the sound of his voice. Slowly, I turn around and face a barely recognizable Galen Lennox. I mask my shock behind an impenetrable facial wall. He’s doubled over, clinging to the door frame, his mottled face contorted in pain. His left eye is swollen and a blue-black color. His lip and nose are busted, and bruising covers most of his cheeks and jawline.
I don’t need to ask to know the guys did this to him.
Warmth spreads across my chest until I shut that shit down.
All of this could be for show.
I cannot trust them.
They are still my enemy. Maybe, they always were.
Or it could be the truth, that annoying inner voice whispers in my ear.
“As if I’d believe a word that comes out of your conniving mouth,” I hiss, gnashing my teeth at Galen.
“I didn’t have all the facts when I made that deal with Knight. I never would’ve gone there if I’d known the truth. I swear.”
Naked aggression blankets me until I’m almost drowning in anger. “Try peddling that bullshit to someone who buys it!” I roar, stalking toward him like the living embodiment of the avenging angel inked on my back. My hands clench and unclench at my sides, my lips curl into a snarl, and fury pummels me from all sides. I’m shaking with rage and a multitude of other emotions as I stand before him. My chest heaves in and out as I bore holes in his damaged flesh, and I’m seething, my entire body trembling, as we stare at one another.
I could kill him.
The thought has crossed my mind a thousand times.
But then, I’d be no better than him.
And I’m nothing like that reckless, arrogant asshole.
My thoughts force me to calm down somewhat, reminding me to stick to the plan. But it’s challenging, because he wanted me dead. And besides the obvious, that hurts.
Keeping his eyes locked on me, he straightens up even though it’s obviously killing him.
“Who cracked his ribs?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.
“It was a team effort,” Caz says, walking to my side and lacing his fingers in mine. I let him only because it’s part of my plan.
“I’m sorry, Lo. I—”
“Save it,” I snap. I grip Galen’s chin, digging my nails into his bruised skin. “Not so pretty now, huh, Lennox?”
“I fucked up.” The remorse on his face appears genuine. But I couldn’t give two shits.
I slap him hard. “You didn’t just fuck up, asshole. You tried to murder me!” I shove at his shoulders, and tears prick his eyes from the pain. “Instead of, oh, I don’t know, asking me to my face if I betrayed you, you deemed yourself judge and jury and decided I was guilty with no trial.”
“I was wrong, I shouldn’t—”
“You were more than wrong, you fucking idiot!” I shout, and I know I need to rein my emotions in, but I was unprepared for the extent of my feelings when confronted with the man who wanted me dead. My entire body shakes with rage as I bend over, grab my knife from my boot, and hold the sharp blade against Galen’s neck. Tension is thick in the air as I glare at him. “I made a promise to myself when I was thirteen,” I say, pressing the blade in and drawing blood. “I promised that no one would ever hurt me again and live to tell the tale.”
“Do it,” he says, surprising me. “I deserve it.”
“Harlow.” Saint’s tone is cool as he places his hand on my arm. “You don’t want to do this.”
“You’re defending him now?”
“Fuck no. I want to gut him as badly as you do.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Trust me, babe. I do. He betrayed all of us when he handed you to the enemy.” Saint moves his hand lower on my arm.
I press the knife in again, slicing a thin line through Galen’s flesh. A muscle ticks in his jaw, but he holds firm, and his eyes almost plead with me to do it. A dart of pain flashes across his face, hinting at immense suffering, and there is so much I don’t understand.
Saint uses my distraction to grab my wrist, forcing my hand to pull away. I battle him, because no one is going to fucking tell me what to do anymore. “Lo, stop.”
“You fucking stop,” I hiss, crying out when he digs his nails into the tender flesh underneath my wrist, making me drop the knife.
A shrill siren rings out, and a red flashing light blares from someplace overhead.
“What the fuck?” Saint shouts, eyeballing Theo.
“Someone has breached the perimeter,” Theo confirms, stabbing buttons on his phone.
“That’d be me, asshole,” a familiar voice says from behind.
Saint still has a grip on my wrist, and he roughly shoves me behind him. Sharp pain shuttles up my arm, and I cry out again.
Diesel trains his rifle on Saint. “Let Lo go, or I’ll gladly end you.”
CHAPTER 5
Harlow
“DIESEL, DON’T.” I attempt to extract my arm from Saint’s grip, but his hold is tight, and it’s clear he has no plan to let me go anytime soon. I bend down and bite his hand, burying my teeth deep in his flesh.
He lets out a roar, dropping my arm and staring at me like I’ve gone crazy.
Ignoring his expression, I step around him, striding toward Diesel. Slowly, he lowers his rifle, but the lethal look on his face remains. I stop in front of him. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you I don’t trust those assholes,” he says, carefully lifting my arm and turning it over. The skin on my wrist has broken again, and a thin line of blood is pooling at the site of my wounds. “You fucking hurt her.” He stabs Saint with a murderous look before softening his gaze when it lands back on me. “I told you you should’ve let me bandage them.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Take your hands off her,” Saint says, coming up behind me.
“Fuck off, asshole, before I put a hole in your skull.”
“I’d like to see you try, old man,” Caz says, leveling a Glock at Diesel’s head.