“Why? Afraid I’ll let it slip that you fucked Laurel last semester, thinking it’d piss Saint off and cure your Mallory obsession?” Gabe spits. “Or are you more worried I’ll tell everyone how you killed Rosalind’s stepfather and had Saint help you make it look like an accident?”
My eyes immediately shoot to Loni. Of everyone here, she’s the only one who wouldn’t know about what Liam and Saint did. Her gaze is wide as she stares at Gabe, and then she slowly looks toward me.
I hold her stare, willing her not to freak out. I know Loni can keep a secret, but I need her to keep her cool right now so I can convince Saint and Liam that she can be trusted. If she loses her shit, it’ll be a lot harder to do so. After a long moment where I’m holding my breath, she gives me the barest of nods.
“Okay, I think Gabe’s had enough,” she says with a forced chuckle, turning her big brown eyes back to him. “I’ll take his drunk ass back to the cottage.”
“I’ll go with you,” Rosalind murmurs, her eyes still downturned. “I’m really tired, and think I’ll just go to bed.”
Loni gives her a sympathetic look. “Yeah, no problem. Help me walk this asshole up, and we’ll call it a night.”
For a second, I think Gabe’s going to object, but to my surprise he allows the girls to drag him from the ground. Loni shoots me a parting look and a small, reassuring smile before she directs Gabe and Rosalind back up to the cottages.
It doesn’t hit me right away that I’m left all alone with Saint and Liam, but when it does, my whole body goes stiff with immediate tension.
“So, any other secrets anyone feels the need to air out?” Saint asks in a dark tone.
I turn my gaze up to him and frown. “Why would we keep adding to this shit storm?”
“I’ve got one,” Liam says, his voice like acid. He’s eyes are boring into Saint, and I can see his is going to be bad.
Saint glares back at him. “What’s that?”
“Oh God, what now?” I groan.
He ignores me.
Smirking, he says, “Over Christmas break, I flew to Atlanta to convince Mallory to come back.”
I gasp and whip my head to face Saint. I can practically see the rage building up in his body. His face hardens, his jaw seeming to become even sharper as he clenches his teeth.
“Why?” His voice is low and dangerous. It’s the tone he uses when he’s not just angry but looking to spill some blood. “You were only supposed to call and check on her. She came back because of you?”
He looks ready to pounce on Liam, but his words catch me off guard.
“Hold on, what?” I shriek, grabbing his arm and yanking on it until he looks at me. “What do you mean he was only supposed to call me?”
“Here’s the other secret,” Liam snaps. “Your boy here found out his dad was planning on doing something terrible to you to get you to leave Angelview. More than likely was going to use those fuckers Finnegan and Jon Eric to do it. He blew up your life at that assembly to chase you away before his dad could make his move.”
I do a double take at Liam. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was defending Saint’s actions. His words and tone aren’t matching up, though, and it’s confusing as hell. Still, I can’t ignore what he just said.
Turning back to Saint, I ask, “Is that true?” I mean, I already knew his actions at the assembly were allegedly to protect me, but I had no clue about Finnegan and Jon Eric being involved with his father.
Saint doesn’t answer me right away. He doesn’t even look at me as he gives Liam a death stare.
“Saint,” I hiss. “Is. That. True?”
His eyes drop to me, and he scowls.
Pushing to his feet, he spits, “It doesn’t fucking matter.”
Turning, he storms off toward the cottages, and I stare after him, dumbstruck.
“I’d go after him if I were you,” Liam murmurs.
I gawk at him. “What’s your game here? I’m so fucking confused.”
He just shrugs and shoots me a sloppy grin. “A little chaos, I guess.”
I scowl at him as I scramble to my feet and present him my middle finger before I hurry after Saint.
30
I chase him all the way up to the cottages.
“Wait!” I call, just as he reaches the sliding glass door of the back patio. “Saint, stop running away from me.”
He pauses, his shoulders tensing, and then turns to glare at me.
“I’m not running,” he insists. “I just am done with that conversation.”
“Well, I’m not,” I snap. “I think I deserve to know what your father had planned back then.”
He looks like he wants to dispute that, but we both know he can’t. We glare at each other for several long, silent moments. At length, he releases an exasperated sigh.
“Fine,” he snarls. Opening the door, he steps aside to let me enter the cottage first. He directs me to his room, and we stay fairly quiet so as not to alert Gabe’s dumb ass that we’re both here.
Once we’re safe in his room, he closes the door behind us then moves to sit on the edge of his bed. Running a hand over his face, he rests his elbows on his knees and turns his gaze up to me. He looks tired, and my traitorous heart aches for him. I want to wipe that weary expression from his face, but I know we need to have this conversation.
“Tell me what happened,” I say in a soft voice. “What did your father want to do to me?”
“Get rid of you,” he says, meeting my gaze. “By any means necessary. He intervened on Jon Eric and Finnegan’s behalf when the truth about their involvement in Nick Reynolds’ assault came out. My dad asked them to do his dirty work.”
“His dirty work being getting rid of me,” I state, just to clarify.
“I don’t know exactly what they intended to do to you, but knowing those two, it wouldn’t have been pretty. I mean, you don’t actually think almost drowning was a Laurel thing, do you?”
My stomach churns at the memory of being held underwater until I went unconscious, and I wrap my arms tightly around myself. That at least explains why Jon Eric and Finnegan seemed to target me for no apparent reason.
“I thought he wanted you to get rid of me,” I say.
He shoots me a look that’s a mix of amusement and frustration. “I was failing. It’s actually a little funny. In spite of everything, all my life, all I ever wanted to do was earn my dad’s approval. To please him. I never failed at anything my father asked of me … until you.”
My breath leaves me in a rush. “I’m sorry,” I murmur because I don’t know what else to say. I’m not sorry he didn’t go through with getting rid of me by any means possible, but I guess I’m sorry I made things worse for him. I’m sorry his father’s such a piece of shit. I’m sorry—
Before I can finish that thought, Saint shakes his head and waves his hand as though shooing a fly. “Don’t,” he huffs. “I’m glad to be a fuck up. I’m done with my father. My mother’s gone—spending the summer in Italy, but I know she won’t be back. I’m just … done.”