The front door slams open, and I swivel in my chair, watching Saint storm into the house like a force of nature. “What’s up?” I ask, sensing his dark mood.
“The asshole called me while we were in the jewelry store,” he seethes. “He wants us back at the house tonight.”
“Aw, fuck.” Caz places his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands. “I don’t want to leave.”
“It sucks,” Theo agrees. “But we knew it was coming.”
“I thought we’d at least get until Sunday.” He pouts.
“Where’s Lo?” Saint asks, looking around.
“In the garden on the outskirts of the forest at the back,” I explain.
“I’ll get her. Start packing,” Saint commands, slamming the door on his way back out.
“Did you get a ring?” I inquire.
“We got rings,” Theo says, grinning. “An engagement ring and wedding band.” He pulls two boxes from his inside pocket, quickly showing us the contents.
“Good choice.” I squeeze his shoulder. “She’ll love them.” They’re not traditional rings, but Lo’s not a traditional bride. She’s always marched to her own beat, and I’m glad the guys picked a ring that speaks to her personality.
“We got flowers and champagne too,” he adds. “We hid them in the car.”
We hurry upstairs to our rooms, packing our shit, and it’s not long before the sounds of more footfalls thud on the stairs. When I’m finished grabbing my things, I head to Lo’s room to see if she needs any help.
“Need a hand?” I ask, leaning my hip against the door frame.
“Could you grab my toiletries from the bathroom?”
“Sure.” I meander into her room, stopping to kiss her briefly.
She hands me a large zip-up bag with a purple leopard-print pattern. “Just dump everything in there.”
I load up her toiletries and help her stuff the last of her clothes in her duffel bag, then I zip it up, ignoring her protests as I carry it out of the room. Saint comes out of his room at the same time, and he grabs both our bags, racing down the stairs.
We pile into the car as Lo activates the alarm and locks the front door. Saint helps her into the passenger seat while I tap out a message to Mom telling her I’ll be over to see her tomorrow. I’ve been checking in daily with Mrs. Murphy, the housekeeper-slash-babysitter I hired to keep an eye on Mom, and I know she’s gone off the rails again, because she disappeared for twenty-four hours. I wish I could say it’s a shock, but the simple truth is, it’s expected. I knew the stress of the explosion, and her daily hospital visits, would get to her and she’d turn to her usual crutch.
I feel like a selfish prick for saying this, but being here this week, away from dealing with Sinner’s shit, and Mom’s shit, has been a welcome relief. Sometimes, I just get so sick of my life.
I glance at the cabin as we drive off, wishing I could continue to hide from my responsibilities, but I’ve always known this was only a temporary reprieve from my fucked-up life. It’s time to return to reality, and as I rest my head against the window, I wonder what kind of shitstorm awaits us back in Lowell.
CHAPTER 11
HARLOW
BILE CRAWLS UP my throat as Saint turns the Land Rover into Mom’s driveway, and I visibly cringe at the sight of a house I once loved. Sinner has ruined that for me too. Taken all the wonderful, happy moments I shared with my parents in that house and trampled all over them. I shouldn’t dread returning home. But I do. I have no idea what lies in store for us behind those beautiful walls. Saint has been tight-lipped the whole journey home, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s worried about what Sinner expects or he’s salty because I haven’t reached a decision.
Saint parks in the garage, and we slowly climb out of the car. No one speaks, and it’s like the shadow of doom is hanging over us.
“Well, this shit is depressing,” Caz says as he unloads our bags on the garage floor. “We should hit the curb.” He flashes me a toothy grin, and my lips twitch.
“That’s a new one for me,” I admit. “But I’m guessing it means party?”
“Yep,” he says, popping the P. He slings his arm around my shoulders. “We should get fucked up. One last hoorah before shit rains down on us.”
“I like the sound of that. I’m betting Ashley knows of a party.”
“Find out,” Saint says, “but don’t make any concrete plans. We don’t know what Sinner wants yet.”
I tap out a message to Ashley Shaw and repocket my phone, following the guys into the house via the laundry room.
Theo heads to one of the drawers in the kitchen, pulling out a bunch of takeout menus. “Pizza?” he suggests, and we all nod. He makes the call while I wander through the lower level, seeking Mom. Saint trails behind me while Caz and Galen take our bags up to the bedrooms. I open and close all the doors downstairs, but there’s no sign of life, which is odd, because Mom’s car and Sinner’s truck are in the garage.
“Have you made a decision?” Saint blurts as I poke my head in Dad’s study.
I shake my head. “I’ve only had a few hours to think about it. You need to give me more time than that.”
He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, running his hands back and forth across his shorn locks. “I’m trying to be patient, but it doesn’t come naturally.”
I smile, walking toward him. “Oh, I know that all too well, Saintly.” I clasp his face in my hands, planting a hard kiss on his lips, before I rest my brow on his forehead. “I promise I won’t take too long, but don’t rush me. This decision is too important to rush.”
He wraps his arms around me, pressing my head into his chest, and I lean against him, siphoning some of his warmth and his strength. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I just can’t help it sometimes.”
I snort, and the sound is muffled against his chest. “I never want you to change,” I supply when I feel him tensing against me. “I love you just the way you are.”
Silence filters in the tiny gap between us, and I lift my head, peering up at him. Sliding my hands up to rest on his shoulders, I smile at the shocked expression on his face. I’ve never told Saint I love him, but he’s the most arrogant of my guys, and I felt for sure he’d know it. However, there’s always been a vulnerability with Saint, so it’s not really surprising he doesn’t believe it.
I wonder if anyone has ever told him he is loved?
Sinner sure as fuck doesn’t have it in him, and he’s never known his mother.
“I love you, Saint Lennox.” My voice rings out loud and proud, and I stare deep in his eyes as I admit my truth. “I think I fell in love with you the instant our eyes connected that day at the warehouse.”
“You love me?” he splutters, and the awestruck, hopeful look in his eyes hurts me as much as it overjoys me.
“Completely and utterly.” I palm his face, bringing his mouth to mine. I kiss him softly, pouring everything I feel for him into every sweep of my lips, and his mouth moves tenderly against mine, in a way that isn’t usual, sending my heart careening around my chest.