“I’ll try to refrain from murder and mayhem.” He smirks, cocking his head to the side. “But I’ll make no promises.”
“Of course, you won’t.” I roll my eyes, taking in my surroundings as Saint eyes the locket around my neck.
“Where’d you get that?” His eyes burn with jealousy, and I’d love to tell him Diesel gave it to me, but it’ll only end up smashed on the ground if I admit the truth.
“My dad gave it to me.”
“You weren’t wearing it at the warehouse.”
Shit. The obvious lie would be to say I had it at the cabin, but I don’t want the guys to know about that place.
“I thought I’d lost it, but apparently, I left it behind at training. The chain was broken so Diesel got it repaired. He just gave it back to me.”
He opens his mouth, to ask more questions, I assume, and I need to shut this down. “I should head in.” I gesture at the door. “They’ll be wondering what’s keeping me.”
He looks like he wants to argue but thinks better of it, and I release the breath I was holding.
Saint moves around me, a slight suspicion clouding his features, as he removes my bag from the trunk. His instincts are sharp, but I doubt he suspects it’s a tracker. He’s probably questioning my explanation and wondering if Dad really was the one who gave it to me. Throwing one last look my way, Saint tosses my bag over his shoulder and walks toward the others. They are leaning against Caz’s car, quietly conversing.
Turning my back on them, I check out my new temporary home. The property is huge and surprisingly modern, comprising a large two-story building made up of glass and wood, spread across a site that spans acres and acres of woodland. I can’t see the infamous assault course from the front because the building is so wide.
“What do you think?” Theo asks, coming up alongside me.
“Crime pays,” I deadpan.
“You thought it didn’t?” Galen says, arching a brow.
“Who said you could speak?!” I bark, shooting daggers at him. “Just shut up and look pretty.” I scan my eyes over his bruised, battered face, snorting. “You can’t even do that anymore. You’re a hot mess.”
“I have looked in the mirror,” he snaps.
I shove him in the shoulders, and he bites down hard on his lower lip, wincing. “What part of our conversation yesterday didn’t you understand?” I shove him again. “You will fucking beg for my forgiveness. Anything less won’t do.”
“I said I’m fucking sorry!” he shouts.
“Words are meaningless!” I shout back. “And I’m sick of listening to the same pathetic crap coming out of your mouth. Unless you’ve something valuable to add, say nothing.”
Caz slings his arm around my shoulders. “Nervous, babe?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Caz and Saint share a look, and I see red. I slam to a halt, shoving Caz’s arm off me. “You don’t think I can do this.”
“That’s not it,” Theo says, ever the peacemaker. “We know you’re smart and you have obvious skills, but this is a whole other ballgame.”
“Your lack of faith has been noted,” I say, snatching my bag from Saint. “I’ve got this. You can all fuck off now.”
I storm off, using my anger to propel me forward.
Pushing through the double glass doors, I enter the perfunctory lobby area, masking my surprise. A woman in a smart white blouse and gray pinstripe skirt sits behind the small reception desk, smiling at me as I approach. Small black leather couches, with glass coffee tables in front, are propped against the windows on either side of the entrance
It’s surreal, business-like and professional, and not at all what I was expecting.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Westbrook,” the woman says, placing an A4 envelope on the counter before me. “That’s your welcome pack with your schedule, room assignment, and map of the facility.” She hands me a black card, and I scowl at the familiar fiery emblem as I tuck it into the front pocket of my jeans.
I hate The Sainthood’s logo because it reminds me of the mark etched on my skin and the destiny Sinner has mapped out for me.
“That will get you in and out of all the doorways,” she continues, “and it doubles as a meal card in the cafeteria.” She glances at the clock on the wall. “Your general skills test starts in forty minutes, so you must hurry. I’ve left training clothes in your room. Report to the assembly area in thirty minutes.” She points at the doorway on the right. “Go through there, and head for the inspection room. Once completed, go back to the corridor, and take the elevator to the first floor. Turn left for your accommodation.”
“Thank you.” I consider asking her exactly what the inspection room is but decide against it because it seems self-explanatory. I’m pressed for time, and I’ll find out soon enough. I grab the envelope and take a step away when she calls out to me.
“You can’t take that with you,” she says, standing and pointing at my bag. “I’ll store it, and it will be returned to you upon leaving.”
I hand it over without argument, assuming I’ll have everything I need in my room, and I have my two cells on me. She didn’t specifically say anything about no phones, so I’m not mentioning it.
A thought lands in my head, and my fingers fly to my locket. If I’m undergoing some kind of inspection, I can’t have this with me in case they identify the tracking device even though it pains me to remove it because I promised Diesel I wouldn’t. It would be ideal to record shit while I’m here, but walking around a training facility with a locket around my neck would raise suspicion, so I have no choice. I console myself with the fact it will remain with my bag, so Diesel still has a lock on my location even if I don’t have it on me until I walk back out the door. “I’d best leave this in my bag,” I say, putting the envelope down so I can remove the chain. She nods in agreement, and I tuck it into the side pocket of my bag.
I snatch the envelope up again, glancing outside as I walk toward the side door, noting the guys are still there, leaning back against Caz’s car, legs stretched out in front of them and arms folded. They stare at me through the window, and I flip them the bird.
Using the key card, I gain entry to the corridor and walk down the carpeted hallway until I come to a door with INSPECTION marked at the top of it. The door swings open before I can knock, and a man dressed all in black appears before me. He steps aside, motioning me in. The door closes behind me, and I look around the small square room. Apart from a bench, coat hooks on the wall, and a wooden unit with some technical devices on top, the room is empty.
“Remove your jacket, and stand with your legs spread wide and your arms out.”
He takes my jacket, hanging it on a hook on the wall, and then, I adopt the position expected of me.
He pats me down thoroughly while I stare ahead, conveying no emotion.
“Strip down to your underwear,” he says, giving me his back as he walks to the wooden unit. Panic whittles through me at the thought of what’s coming. I guess they’re not just checking for concealed weapons but for drugs too, and there’s no way in hell that man is putting his fingers inside my ass or my pussy. I will fucking decimate him if he tries to touch me there.