by Ruby Vincent
“How could you bring me here? What is wrong with you?”
“It’s past time you got a sense of what we do. Afterward, you’ll agree we did what needed to be done. I’m certain of it.”
I bucked harder.
“So certain, I’ll put something new on the table. Everything you want to know about me, my past, and the Merchants. I’ll tell you everything.”
I stilled. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. No tricks. No lies,” he said. “The unedited story of St. John Bellisario. If my actions today don’t meet your approval, I will offer all of me up for judgment.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. For weeks I tried and failed to scratch the surface of this man who enraged and seduced me in equal measure. If he’d told me any lies that day, that would surely be it.
“I don’t believe you,” I whispered. “You lie as easily as you breathe, Saint.”
“This is true. But what I don’t do is back out of a bet.”
“If you have a justifiable explanation for knocking over a free clinic that helps the vulnerable people in this community, give it to me now.”
“No time,” he said, releasing me. “Cash clocked twenty-one minutes to get in and out before the first nurse shows up for her shift. Keep an eye on our friend.” He guided me back inside. The friend in question, Henry, was slumped on the floor—out cold. The breaths fluttering his name tag let me know he was alive.
Fighting floated through the wooden shield concealing the back room. Shouts and crashing assaulted my ears. I couldn’t imagine blood was not being shed.
I bent down next to Henry, checking him over. Out of the corner of my eye, Sinjin rounded the desk. I heard the door open and the shouts flooded in.
He had left me alone with Henry. The thought to run came and went.
It’d take me hours to get back to Leighbridge’s city center, beg a phone off someone, and get Gianna to come pick me up. There was also the tiny, but important detail of almost eight thousand dollars in cash hidden away in my room. That was getting-far-away-and-starting-over money. The kind of money I’d need to make a clean break from the Merchants.
“They’re loading up.” Sinjin emerged from the back. “Keep a lookout.”
“I’m not aiding and abetting until I hear that explanation.”
Sinjin snaked a hand around my waist and kissed my cheek through the masks. “I appreciate that you trust a good one is coming. Loyalty is handsomely rewarded. Tonight we’ll go down to the basement.”
I wanted to say being chained up in his torture room and spanked raw wasn’t a reward. I might’ve if the desire pooling in my core wasn’t so strong, I feared he smelled it on me like an animal knows when its mate is in heat.
Sinjin lifted Henry under the arms and put him in the lobby bathroom. He swept outside, expecting me to follow, and I did.
The white van was open. Masked men loaded boxes into the back, working quickly and efficiently.
“Five minutes,” Sinjin said. “Pick it up.”
They did without argument. As the men loaded the last few boxes in the back, I noticed the sideways glances cast over me. Our mask concealed our faces, but nothing was hiding that I was the lone woman in the bunch.
“Alright, head out,” Sinjin said when they were finished. “Take different routes. Do not meet up, discuss the job in public, or at all.”
“Let’s go,” said one man with a deep voice and blue eyes. “Racer, you’re driving.”
The guy he pointed at—Racer—made no move in the direction of the car. “Boss.”
“What?” Sinjin looped a finger through my belt loop, pulling me behind as he pried open a box to check the contents. I peered around him, confirming it was vials of antibiotics and packs of butterfly needles.
“What’s the cut for this job?” Racer asked.
“Cash handles the payments. It’s in the name.”
“He said we’d get five grand each.”
Sinjin opened another box. “Then why the fuck are you asking me?”
A click sounded behind me, and a wave of musky sweat hit my nose. An armpit was in my face, attached to the hand holding a gun to the back of Sinjin’s head.
“I’m asking because why should we settle for five grand, when turning you over to the Kings would get us four times as much?”
“Hey!”
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
The situation changed in an instant. Half a dozen guns were out. Some trained on Racer. Others on the men threatening him.
“Put the gun down, Racer.”
“Sack up, Diego,” Racer growled. “What’s playing their bitch got you? A war with the Kings.”
Sinjin hadn’t moved or spoken. I inched around, positioning to strike.
Racer snatched my throat and shoved me against the van door. “Don’t try it, bitch. You can’t move faster than I pull this trigger.”
“Let her go.” I didn’t recognize the dark, grasp gruff as coming from Sinjin until he turned, leveling the gun between his eyes. “Now.”
“Happy to.” Racer sounded almost friendly.
He bore tighter on my throat.
Almost.
“This girl—whoever the hell she is—can go right on her way as long as you put those cuffs on and get in the van without trouble, Boss.”
Gun aimed, one of the guys moved closer, holding a pair of cuffs.
“Hawk, Gunner, Viper, and I have a quarter of a mill coming our way. If these fools don’t want in on the payday, that’s just more for us.”
“The four of you thought this up, did you?” Sinjin tsked. “This is why we warn you not to talk to each other. You come up with stupid ideas and they spread through the men like cancer. Let her go. Every second your hands are on her, I tack another hour on the long, agonizing death that awaits you.”
Racer slammed my head against the door. I cried out, black spots taking over my vision.
“Put the cuffs on!”
Saint cast a cool eye on me. “Dear Lord. It seems I’ll reach a new level of savagery with you.”
“Stop this, Racer.” A pair of blues and a black suit inched closer. “You know you won’t make it out of here.”
Racer’s men weren’t backing down. “I’ll drop you if your finger fucking twitches, Diego.”
“All of you, relax,” Sinjin said.
“You’re not in charge here.” The cuffs smacked Sinjin’s chest and fell to the ground. “Put them on or”—Racer choked a gasp out of me—“watch me kill her.”
“I’m always in charge, Donald Seward, aka Racer. Current address: 486 Ridgeway Drive, Waterford. Baby mama’s current address: 323 Crystalview Apartments, 2B, Rockchapel. Parents’ current address: 1010 Maynard Street, North Quay.”
Racer stumbled back and his hand fell off my throat.
“We set up the Merchants so that you wouldn’t know each other, but did you honestly believe we don’t know you?” Sinjin shook his head like a disappointed parent. “Did you, Viper, aka Liam James? Gunner, aka Adrian Westwood? Hawk, aka Noel Harvey?
“We know where you live. Where your wives, husbands, mistresses, and your cousin twice removed on your mother’s side lives.” The shaking muzzle pressed into Sinjin’s chest as he closed the distance. “We know where sweet little Debbie Seward goes to preschool. You can hand me over to the Kings, Donny, but I ask you, what good is all of that money if you don’t have anyone to share it with?”
“You wouldn’t,” he hissed.
Sinjin shrugged. “I couldn’t. I’d be under Angelo’s tender care by then. No, it’d be my associates’ job to hunt down and kill your families before making examples of you that will sicken every person who hears the name ‘Merchant’ for the next fifty years.
“Debbie won’t like being an orphan, Donny,” Sinjin sang. “Cinco’s foster care system is shit.”
Sweat dripped down pale cheeks, soaking the lining of Racer’s mask.
“Put the guns down, gentlemen. And
all can be forgiven.”
Slowly, Racer’s men lowered their weapons.
Shots pierced the morning.
Viper, Gunner, and Hawk dropped where they stood. Dead.
Racer whirled around, and Sinjin was on him. He grabbed his arm and twisted the gun from his grip.
“No,” he cried. “You said we’d be forgiven!”
“I lied. I do that.” Sinjin’s expression was terrible to behold. Yanking Racer’s hand up his back, Sinjin kicked the back of his legs, dropping him to his knees. “Hold him.”
Diego and the others held him down. The wind whipped at Sinjin’s coat, spreading its tails to honor the blackened wings of a fallen angel. I backed away and tripped inside the van, bumping into the boxes.
I knew this man. I knew the coldness in his words and delight in his eyes. I knew as surely as I knew it was time to look away. And if I could have, I would. Sinjin held me captive in all ways proclaimed by the word.
“But in one thing I intend to keep my word,” Saint said. “I promised you a slow death.”
“No, please—”
Sinjin fired, ending Racer’s plea in a shout.
He doubled over. A red stain growing above his belt.
“That bullet will immobilize you, but it won’t kill you. Not for hours, maybe days. You’ll bleed out in some abandoned warehouse knowing you could’ve been saved if only someone found you in time. Which, of course, they won’t because no one will hear your cries for help.”
Sinjin tipped his head to Diego. “Hold his mouth open.”
I crawled further in, feeling every hair on my body stand on end. A new level of savagery.
Racer bellowed. He thrashed and tossed his head, fighting on pure adrenaline to stop Diego and two other men prying his jaw open.
The wings drew back on the web of leather that held his blade. Sinjin held it aloft, reaching in to pull his tongue out of his head. The hold broke.
I looked away.
Something dropped at my feet—small and wet.
“We’ve been here too long,” Sinjin said. “Once the nurse finds our boy Henry, she’ll call the police if she hasn’t already. Take Racer out a few miles where he can die in peace and seclusion.” Choked, muffled sobs struggled to be heard over him. “My gift to you for making the right choice in the end.”
Shuffling. Gruff conversation. Then Racer’s noise faded.
“Bunny.”
I snapped my head up. I hadn’t heard Sinjin’s approach.
“Let’s go. We’re running late.”
My gaze fell on the outstretched hand and flicked over his shoulder. The bodies were cleared away though their blood remained. Sinjin was right, this was not a place we wanted to be when the police arrived.
I rested my palm on his. Sinjin snapped me to his chest. I hissed when he touched the back of my head.
“There’s a first aid kit in the glove box. I’ll take care of this when we’re out of Leighbridge.”
“Okay.”
We shut the back doors, climbed in, and drove out of the alleyway. Miles were between us and the clinic when I spoke.
“Are we going to the house?”
“No. The van’s due back in three hours. Can’t have the person we stole it from return and report the theft.”
I shook my head—whether at his casual disregard for felonies or my lack of surprise, I didn’t guess.
“I didn’t say this before because I assumed there wasn’t a need, but you don’t have to make examples of people who hurt me, Saint.”
“Because you shudder to see what needs to be done?”
“Because I can take care of myself.” I bore into the side of his head till he met my eyes. “You got that?”
Sinjin gave me a long look. One that prompted cars to honk us at the changing light. A grin broke out over the racket. “Understood. Next time, you choose the punishment.”
“There won’t be a next time.” I probed my skull and came away with spots of blood on my fingertips.
“Here.” Sinjin pulled off two lanes over from the turning lane. A car slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting us, sending up another wave of blaring horns.
We turned into a bowling alley parking lot. Sinjin leaned over me, propping himself on my thighs, and I lost focus gazing at the knit cap covering the telltale blue hair. Waves of sandalwood, leather, and a fresh woodsy scent hit my nose.
Sinjin always smelled like he’d just gotten out of the shower. A feat that should have been impossible after this morning. He subdued an employee, pulled off a twenty-minute job, was betrayed by his own guys, and cut out a man’s tongue. Any other man would be buckets of sweat and damp stains. But those men were not Sinjin Bellisario.
Still, I suspected he wasn’t as cool as his stature conveyed.
Sinjin risked himself, me, and the Merchants on this job.
Just who is this friend that he loves so much the risk is worth it?
“I’m ready for that explanation whenever you are.”
“It’ll become clear when we get there,” he said. “Turn around.”
I obeyed. Holding still, he checked and cleaned the small cut.
His touch was gentle. Fingers weaved through my strands. Soothing me under the soft exhalations he blew to dry the antiseptic.
“Wasn’t that bad.” Sinjin moved down the nape of my neck, cupping my throat. “But you’ll have a bruise.”
My swallow bobbed against his fingers. My pulse was fluttering beneath him, and the slow, light circles he rubbed opposite of their wild dance was not helping. “Won’t be my first,” I said. “Weaponless muggers go straight for the neck too.”
“You’ve had an eventful life.”
“I suspect not as eventful as yours. A hunch I’ll have confirmed tonight.” I curled my hand around his, dropping it on my lap.
Sinjin pressed on my stomach and drew me closer. I made a small noise in my throat as he licked a stripe over the bumpy ridges of my spine. Then he was gone.
“Here.” Sinjin tossed his cap at me. “Cover up. A bleeding head wound will scare the kids.”
My mind was a beat behind struggling to reconcile his sudden switch from intimacy. “Kids? What kids?”
His reply was to start the car and pull out onto the road.
Sinjin didn’t get on the highway this time. Instead we weaved through our gloriously grimy city, stopping once to pick up breakfast from a drive-through bakery. I fed him mini butter croissants while he drove. Mostly to save my life. Sinjin driving while eating was ten times as dangerous as him using both hands.
“What did you mean about your men not being allowed to talk to each other?” I tapped on his mouth to get him to open up. “How does that work? Don’t they have to?”
Sinjin closed over my fingers, wrapping his lips around them. I couldn’t find my voice to say stop.
“It’s the way we’ve set it up. The only person you know in the gang is the guy who got you in. Everyone else goes by a nickname, and when we meet up, we’re in masks and gears. They know the guys in charge are me, Cash, Brutal, and Mercer. They have a number to call us if something goes down. But my own men could pass me in the street and not have a clue who I was.”
I hummed. “A fact that’s coming in handy now that the Kings are after you.”
Sinjin inclined his head. “I thought Cash was overdoing it like he does fucking everything. But his plans haven’t led us wrong yet.”
“So, Cash is the brain. Brutal is the muscle. You’re the unflappable leader. What does that leave for Mercer?”
“Mercer has a very specific skill set.” I heard the humor in his tone. “Believe me, he’s invaluable.”
“Okay, then what does that leave for me?”
Sinjin took his eyes off the road, forcing me to grip his chin and face him forward. “Leave for you?”
“What’s my place in all of this, Sinjin? You didn’t need me to go with you today. You also don’t need me to cosign your motives. Was the clinic some kind of te
st? To see if I’d run if I saw you in action?”
“What if it was?” he challenged.
“Then I ask what’s the point? Some days I feel like you’re fashioning me into your mafia bride. Polishing the arm of your throne where I’ll perch until the kingdom falls down around us.”
“Loving the image.”
“But then there are other days,” I continued, “when you refuse to bend the slightest inch to take what you say you want. The days you shut down on me, and look at me like I’m another card to put in your deck. That guy doesn’t want a bride, queen, or partner. He wants to defeat a challenge, and what he’ll do after he does, I can’t begin to guess.”
“We’re still talking about me, right?”
“Yes,” I gritted out. “So, tell me, Saint. What do you want from me?”
“That’s a loaded question, my bride. I eagerly await the results of our bet to find out if I’ll answer.” Sinjin jerked the wheel, careening me into him. “We’re here.”
I straightened, looking up the sloped driveway to the structure rising out of a green mound. It came together slowly in my vision. Steeple. Stained glass. History soaking the weathered stone and the inscription above the arched entrance.
Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Cathedral.
“I don’t understand.”
“We’ll drive around back and unload,” Sinjin said. “Edie will be waiting for us.”
Sinjin rumbled up the hill to the small parking lot behind the church. I hopped out, running around the car to stop him opening the door.
“Wait,” I cried.
“What is it?” He stuck his head out of the window, hand flying to his holster.
“This is hallowed ground. Won’t you burst into flames if you set foot here?”
“You’re very amusing, Redgrave,” he said without a trace of a laugh.
I stepped aside, letting him out. The real question was how he could drive up this hill with a van full of stolen goods after what he did to Racer/Donald Seward.
Sinjin hooked through my belt loop again and tugged me along.
What does it take to faze you? What makes you sweat?
“Once a month, Sister Edith opens the church to the community,” Sinjin began, throwing open the van. “Members donate food. Nurses and doctors donate their time. They set up cots for anyone in need of a warm night indoors.
