“That guy who’s been after you about the recording. That’s who.”
Howie tsks. “He’s not with VERO. He’s ex-FBI. A PI hired by The Sainthood to get that tape back.”
So that’s why he’s holding onto that footage. He thinks it’s of some worth to Sinner. I know Diesel was trying to help, and that he can’t blow his cover, but he’s unwittingly sent out a completely different message.
“That’s a front,” Theo says. “But he is who Bryant says he is and every bit as dangerous.”
“And he’s not the only one,” Saint adds. “Because the longer you keep my wife hostage, the less I care about what you have to say and the more I dream about riddling your body with bullets.”
“Shut up, Saintly,” I hiss, because he’s going to get us all killed. “We want to hear what Howie has to say, because he hates Sinner as much as we do. This is stupid, and we’re wasting valuable time. We are not enemies, and I’m not hurt.” I arch my neck, looking back at Howie. “I promise no harm will come to you if you untie me and put your gun down. Look into my eyes, and see the truth there.”
I’m not expecting it to work, so I’m as shocked as the others when he removes the gun, tucking it into the back waistband of his jeans. “Your turn,” Howie says, eyeballing my guys.
I stare them down until they’ve lowered their weapons and the threat in the air has dissipated. Howie crouches behind me, pulling out my knife, using it to cut the tape around my wrists.
My legs are wobbly as I push myself to standing, and Saint darts forward, scooping me into his arms while growling at Howie.
Flipping my palm up, I bore a hole in Howie’s skull until he sheaths my knife and hands it back to me. I grip it in one hand as I cling to Saint, wrapping my arms and legs around him, because I don’t trust him not to lose the plot and start World War Three in this motel room. Saint sits down on the bed, and I reposition myself so my legs are dangling across his, in a more acceptable manner. I place my knife on the bed beside us.
“Call your VERO agent off,” Howie says. “I didn’t agree to any meeting with him.”
“Already done.” Theo confirms what I already know, because there’s no way Diesel has made it back from Europe yet. Plus, the guys would only call on him if they needed backup, which they don’t.
Bry was calling his brother’s bluff, and it paid off. I nod in Bry’s direction, conveying my thanks.
“You should know,” I say, eyeing Howie from my seat on Saint’s lap. “That Sinner doesn’t care about that recording. We are the ones who want it back. If you hand it to the authorities, he’d probably pat you on the back and thank you for getting rid of a problem for him.”
Bry folds his arms across his body, leaning back against the wall, fixing his brother with an “I told you so” look.
Howie shakes his head. “Sinner would do anything to protect his flesh and blood. It’s why…” He stops himself midsentence, leaning forward on the back of the chair, stabbing Saint with a curious look.
“Why what?” Saint grits out.
“Why wouldn’t he do everything to protect his only son?” Howie asks instead of answering Saint’s question.
“He’s never cared about me,” Saint admits, his voice devoid of emotion. “Even now, he only tolerates me because he’s arrogant enough to want someone carrying his name to continue a tradition of leadership within The Sainthood.”
“I’ve heard stories. I know what you guys do.”
“We do what we have to, to survive,” Galen snaps. “That doesn’t mean any of us like it or choose it.”
CHAPTER 34
“DON’T YOU GET it?” Caz says. “We were born into this world. All of us, but Theo. Even then, he had little choice when his parents disowned him. Sinner preys on those who are vulnerable, and he manipulates people into carrying out his will.”
“He’s very good at it,” I add. “And he traps people into corners so there is no way out. That’s why he’s able to get the wider membership to agree to test-drive sex trafficking as a new business model.” My tone drips with disgust, and the air is heavy with tension.
Howie’s jaw flexes as he stares at Saint in a way that’s starting to make me uncomfortable. If he makes one move against my man, I will flatten his ass to the floor and slice his skin to shreds before he’s even blinked.
“My brother has told me you’re a prick. How are you any different from your father?”
Saint turns his head to Bry, arching a brow, seemingly nonplussed about the comparison, but we all know the rage bubbling under the surface, because there is nothing Saint hates more than being compared to that sick psycho bastard.
Bry levels Saint with an earnest look, not shying away from the truth. “You know you’re a prick. I didn’t tell any lies, but my brother seems to have misinterpreted it.” Bry walks over to Howie, standing in front of him. “Yes, Saint’s a prick. So is Galen. So am I. Lo is a complete bitch at times.”
I grin, because I take that as a compliment.
“But I never said Saint was like Sinner, because that’s not true,” he continues. “Saint isn’t like his dad. He isn’t a cold-blooded murdering bastard of women and torturer of children.” He looks over at us, waggling his brows. “He loves Lo, and he’d take a bullet for his cousin and his friends. His loyalty may be hard-earned, but it’s steadfast. Sinner doesn’t know the meaning of that word, and he’s incapable of anything even close to love.”
“Is it true?” Howie asks, clutching the back of the chair.
There’s a pregnant pause as we all wait to see how Saint responds. I’m wondering why we’re so focused on him and where this is leading, but I’m trying to summon patience. Saint slowly nods. “I hate him. He’s a bully and a psychopath, and I want to put him in jail where he can’t hurt me or anyone I love. He needs to be removed as Sainthood president before his poison infects every part of the organization.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and I know this is tough for him. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s being so open, but there’s a weird vibe in the air, something I can’t put my finger on.
“When I was little, I was his punching bag,” Saint adds. “Now that I’m older, I’m a minion he pushes around to do his bidding. I’ve always been a means to an end for him. That’s all. I’ve never meant anything else.”
A crack appears in my heart, and I bleed for my broken man. Inside, I curse Sinner for the damage he’s caused, and I curse his mother for running off and leaving him with a monster.
A strangled sound rips through the air, and I eye Howie curiously when he drops to his knees on the floor in front of us. Bry stiffens, his brow puckering. Saint goes rigidly still underneath me.
“I had no idea it was like that for you growing up. I should’ve stayed here. I should’ve taken care of you and Bryant,” Howie says.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bryant snaps, rubbing his temples.
Howie gulps, looking up at his brother. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”