“You blow my mind, babe,” Caz says. “You’re my every fantasy come to life and then some. Nothing has ever felt as right as holding you in my arms, and now I get to do that forever.” He kisses my hand. “Love you.”
“You’ve challenged me from the minute I met you, and you make me a better man,” Galen says, clasping my hand. “Thank you for giving me a second chance, and I promise to prove I deserve it every day for the rest of my life. I love you.”
Tears spill down my cheeks as unbridled emotion consumes me. Saint squeezes my hand, never taking his eyes off me as he brushes his lips against my knuckles. “I fell hard and fast the second our eyes met at thirteen, and there has only been you from that moment on. I don’t know what it’s like to love and be loved, but I promise to never stop fighting to give you what you deserve.” He stands, and the others rise behind him. Saint removes the ring from the box, sliding it on my finger. “I love you, Harlow June Westbrook. We love you. Marry us?”
I grab them all into a group hug, and sobs wrack my chest as emotion literally oozes out of me. The guys look a little teary-eyed too, but they wouldn’t be the legendary Saints if they didn’t hold it together.
We laugh, kiss, and hug, and then the champagne is flowing, and they give me the biggest bunch of roses, and I know everything will be okay, because they’ve got my back and I’ve always got theirs.
_______________
“I THINK WE should celebrate in style,” Caz says a while later as we are lounging on the couches, finishing the champagne.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask.
“I think it’s time we tested our new bed out, don’t you?” Caz waggles his brows.
“An engagement fuck fest,” Galen says, rubbing his hands. “I like the way you think, dude.”
Caz rubs the bulge in his jeans. “I’m always thinking with my brain,” he quips.
“I hate to rain on our parade,” Saint says, tugging me in closer to him, his fingers running back and forth across the ring on my finger. “But we need to get back to Giana.”
“Saintly’s right. I need to get Mom to safety, so as much as I’m down for fucking your collective brains out, we’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Has Diesel called?” Saint asks.
“Not yet, but I can’t wait for him. He could be on a new mission for all we know.”
“Let’s run through our options.” Theo leans forward on his knees, setting his tablet aside. He was lodging an online application with city hall so Saint and I can get married on Thursday. Thankfully, you can get a license and get married the same day. I’ve messaged the lady I was talking to about the commitment ceremony to see if she can fit us in on the same day.
Other than that, I know nothing, because the guys want it to be a surprise. They are insisting on organizing everything, and I’m happy to let them work away. I’ve never had set ideas about my wedding day, and I trust the guys to plan it to perfection.
“Lo.” Theo calls my name, dragging me out of my mind.
“Sorry. I got distracted. What were you saying?”
“Options for Giana.”
“Okay, yeah. Well, the cabin is the obvious choice, but it’s isolated, and it’s too far from school. I don’t like the thought of her being there by herself, and I don’t want Sinner to discover that place.”
“I agree,” Saint says, running his finger across my ring again. “We need a safe place to escape to if the need arises. Sinner knows the location of all the safe houses The Sainthood uses, and your mom suspects he knows about this place, so we need to protect the cabin.”
“We could always move her into my house, for the time being,” Galen suggests.
“Sinner and his cronies are in and out of your house with their shipments all the time, and it’s probably one of the first places he would look,” I say. Besides, I’m not sure Mom would want to live in the same house as her former best friend, knowing she had an affair with her husband and got knocked up with his baby. A baby Alisha later aborted in favor of drug money.
“We could hire protection for her. Like, use a legit security firm,” Caz suggests. “That might hold Sinner at bay for a couple days until we can find someplace else to stash her.”
“That might work,” Theo says. “But we’re forgetting one very important thing. What if Giana doesn’t want to go?”
“Then I’m done with her.” A muscle clenches in my jaw. “I mean that. If she doesn’t walk away now, I can’t help her.” If she has such little regard for her own life, I can’t be a part of it anymore.
“Let’s go talk to her.” Saint stands, removing the car keys from his pocket and handing them to Galen. He only had one glass of champagne so he’s the only one fit to drive.
_______________
THANKFULLY, SINNER’S TRUCK is absent when we arrive back at the house. Diesel messaged me en route, offering a better solution than Galen’s house. He’s on standby until I give him the go-ahead. I just need to convince Mom this is the right call to make.
The house is quiet when we step inside. Eerily so, and that frightens me. I race through the kitchen and out into the hall, slamming to a halt when I spot the four guys sitting on the floor, wearing Sainthood cuts, blowing cigarette clouds into the air as they smoke while staring at their phones.
“You can leave,” Saint tells them, coming up behind me.
“Any problems?” Galen asks, coming up on my other side.
“She hasn’t come downstairs, and no one has gone up,” the tall, dark-haired guy says, and I vaguely recognize him. I think he might go to our school.
“Thanks, man.” Saint slaps him on the back.
“Anytime.” He nods before looking at me. “We were sorry to hear about Sariah. Those bitches should burn in hell for what they did to her.”
“Thanks. I’m pretty sure county jail is hell on Earth, so they’ll get what’s coming to them.”
“Bank on it,” Saint says, slinging his arm around my waist. “We’ve already put the word out.” I squeeze Saint’s waist in a show of gratitude, glad he’s organized that. The case is coming before the court next month, and everyone knows they’re going down. What Beth and the other two girls don’t realize is The Sainthood has planned a “Welcome to Jail” party to end all parties.
Couldn’t happen to more deserving recipients.
The guys filter out the front door, and I race up the stairs, eager to get to Mom.
My guys congregate in Saint’s bedroom while I slip into my bedroom, where Mom is holed up. The curtains are still drawn, and it’s dark as I pad over to the bed. “Mom.” I sit down and switch on the lamp, biting back a hiss when I spot the bruised skin around her throat and her wrists and the raised lash marks on her upper chest. Her eyes bore into mine, confirming she wasn’t sleeping. “It’s after three.”
“Is he here?” she croaks, and I don’t miss the flare of panic that crosses her face.
“No. He left last night and hasn’t been back.”
“Good.”
“But you know he will, and we need to make plans.”