Saint whips his gun out, pointing it at his father. The board members laugh again, peering at Saint like he’s a naughty toddler who needs to be put in time-out. “I warned you not to call Harlow that,” Saint grits out, raising his gun and pointing it straight at Sinner’s skull.
Sinner stands, walking toward us. “And I told you, you have no say in this matter. Unless you want your whore to fail initiation, and you know what happens to recruits who don’t pass.”
“You’re not laying a finger on her,” Saint says, brandishing his gun at all the men. “None of you are.”
Sinner grits his teeth as he comes around behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I’ve got my hands on her now. What’re you going to do about that, huh?” He’s baiting his son on purpose, and I almost wish Saint would pull the trigger even though I know it’d end in a blood bath and not all of us would get out alive.
Saint stands, keeping his gun trained on his dad while he pulls the paper from his back pocket. He thrusts it at his father. “Invoke my right as Harlow’s husband,” Saint hisses.
Sinner grabs the marriage certificate from his son’s hand, his nostrils flaring as he reads over it.
“Now, take your filthy paws off my wife because the only men I’ll be sharing her with are Galen, Caz, and Theo, and the rest of you perverts can go fuck yourselves. Literally.”
CHAPTER 23
“YOU’VE DONE IT now, boy.” Sinner crumples the certificate in his hand, tossing it on the floor. “You…you…” He shoves at Saint’s shoulders, and Saint stumbles a little, grabbing the back of the chair with his free hand to steady himself. “You dare to overrule me? To deny me my right to fuck her? It’s a fucking initiation task!” he yells, spittle flying from his mouth.
“You’ll pay for this, Saint. You put that fucking whore ahead of your own flesh and blood!” Sinner thumps his fisted hand over his heart. “After all I’ve done for you? You ungrateful little shit.” A muscle pops in his jaw as he visibly seethes. “I thought you were smarter than this. Is her pussy that fucking magical she nuked your brain cells?” He shakes his head, really on a roll now. “You let that cunt trick you into marriage, and now everything’s fucked!” he screeches, his eyes almost bugging out of his head. “You’ve fucked everything up!”
He shoves Saint again, and I’m two seconds away from losing my shit. If he puts his hands on him again, I will not be accountable for my actions.
Galen and Caz get up, standing behind Saint. They’re clearly sharing my thoughts, and they’re primed and ready to go into battle.
Theo and I rise together, and I inch closer to Saint so we’re presenting a united front. We’re a solid fucking team, and it’s about time Sinner realized we’re no pushovers.
“It’s true?” Baldy asks, coming toward us.
“Yes,” Sinner barks. “They’re married.”
Shock splays across Bry’s face as our eyes meet. He’s still sitting, but he’s alert and ready to intervene if necessary. I’d like to think he’d intervene on our behalf, but I honestly don’t know how strong his allegiance is to Sinner and whether he’d stand with him or against him. I haven’t forgotten how he insinuated he was keeping something from us during a previous conversation he and I shared, and while I trust my gut, and my gut says Bry is an ally, I can’t ignore the fact he is hiding something from us.
“Then it’s decided,” a man with sandy-brown hair says. “Your son has spoken, and that’s that.”
“You think I don’t know that!” Sinner roars.
“It’s one of our most sacred rules,” Scraggly Beard adds. “As much as this is disappointing, we can’t dishonor tradition.”
I glare at the prick. Gee, sorry you don’t get to gang-rape me after all.
“Don’t throw the rulebook at me!” Sinner yells, picking up a chair and throwing it at his colleague. “I know the fucking rules!” he roars, as the man ducks down, and the chair crashes into the wall behind him, instantly breaking apart. Sinner lifts another chair, flinging it across the room this time. It flies through the window, shattering the glass, sending shards raining down on the floor.
“Holy shit,” Caz whispers under his breath, pinning troubled eyes on Saint.
Sinner is self-destructing before our eyes, and it’s terrifyingly fascinating to watch.
Sinner grabs fistfuls of his hair, pacing the room, his boots crunching on glass underfoot. The other board members eye him warily, and he looks truly psychotic pacing the floor, yanking on his hair, and muttering to himself.
Outside, shouts and raised voices can be heard, and I hope the chair landed on solid ground without injuring anyone.
Sinner slams to a halt, narrowing his eyes and jerking his head in our direction. Then he flies across the room, making a beeline for Saint with clear murder in his eyes. I unsheathe my knife, stepping in front of Saint at the last minute.
I point the sharp edge of my blade at Sinner’s chest, right where his heart is. “Move one more millimeter and you’ll impale yourself on my knife,” I warn. “No one threatens my husband. Especially not you.” Our eyes meet with a mutual expression of hatred. His dark pupils shine with loathing, and I imagine mine are the same. “Back the fuck up, asshole.”
Saint’s hand lands on my hip, and he applies a little pressure, but I don’t need his subtle warning. As much as I want to drive my knife straight through Sinner’s heart, I won’t do it, because I refuse to throw my life away on his.
I want vengeance. I want justice for my father. And that means Sinner behind bars. Death would be far too easy for a monster like him.
“Sinner.” Baldy moves cautiously toward his president. “Step back.” His beady eyes move to mine. “You won’t get away with disrespecting the president like this. We have rules for a reason.”
“Fuck your rules. You want me to take out the commissioner, then we’ll play this our way, or you can find yourself another assassin.”
Sinner starts pacing again, mumbling to himself as he pulls strands out of his hair, and his crazy is really showing now.
Tension is like invisible fog in the room as we all wait to see what he does next.
I’m expecting more chair throwing, more yelling, and more attempts to hurt my husband, but he surprises us all.
He stops pacing, rooting himself to the spot and lowering his head so his hair shields his face. A few tense beats pass, and when he lifts his head, he’s smiling.
Like legit smiling.
What the actual fuck?
Saint cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing his dad’s face while the rest of us trade guarded, puzzled looks.
“You know what, son?” He walks toward us, wearing the same lopsided smile. “It’s okay.” He slaps Saint on the shoulder. “This is a good thing.”
My eyes narrow suspiciously, and Saint pulls me in closer to his side. “It is?” Suspicion laces his tone.
“Of course!” Sinner’s eyes light up. “Giana would never take me back if I’d fucked her daughter.” He squeezes Saint’s shoulder. “You did me a favor, son. I owe you.” He winks at me, and my insides turn in on themselves. “Harlow’s a fine piece of ass, plus she’s got lady balls. You did good, boy.”