by Thorne, Leia
His shoulders rise and fall with his labored breaths. His come is warm as it pools atop me, marking me the way he was supposed to mark and lay claim to Remi in that bedroom.
His hold loosens, and as he backs away, still gripped tightly to his cock, I sit up and place my hands behind my back. Our gazes stay locked on each other.
“You love me,” he says, his words ripped from a place of desperation.
I swallow the ache at the back of my throat. “She chose me, Gage. Get over yourself.”
“Because you poisoned her against me,” he says. He rolls his shoulders back. “You got Masters to say that shit to her, didn’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“If so, you’re not just working against me, Sawyer. You’re taking us all down. That’s fucking stupid all just to win a bet.”
He’s gone insane. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He studies me closely, becoming resigned to some decision. Then he steps closer, planting his hands on either side of my thighs. He rests his forehead to mine. “Say you love me,” he pleads. “Dammit. Admit it.”
I close my eyes, tasting his hot breath against my lips. “If I did, it would be a twisted kind of love. The kind that has to inflict pain to feel.” I lay my hand atop his. “Is that what you want?”
He swallows hard. “It would be enough.”
I force him back, making him release me. “It would never be enough. We’d take from each other until there was nothing left.”
Gage drives a hand through his hair. He looks out at the night sky. After a moment of contemplative thought, he makes a choice. We can’t go on like this—we’re sick with need for each other. Only where he’s not strong enough to deny his urges, I refuse to submit to mine. He can never own me; he’d destroy me and any future I have within our company.
Finally, he returns his sharp gaze on me. “What do you want, Sawyer?” he asks. “You won the bet. Name your prize.”
I push off the marble table and stand before him, my neck bruised from his violent touch. “When the time comes, I’ll let you know.” Then I leave him alone on the balcony.
When we were kids, Gage would break my toys. And just like those toys, anything that belongs to me now, Gage wants to break.
He will break Remi. To pay me back for wounding him here tonight, if he believes it will cause me pain, he will destroy her.
Gage will annihilate her life.
It had to be done. I’m sorry, Remi. But you’re a means to an end.
She’s one of us now, and sooner rather than later she’s going to learn the truth. Being an elite isn’t all glitter and gold—there are dark ties that bind us together.
That’s what makes us his broken saints.
Chapter 19
Gage
The message came shortly after Sawyer left the treetop.
I’ve been summoned.
I head to the back of the penthouse and locate my clothes. As I’m zipping my slacks, I hear their voices coming from the bedroom, and a rare pang seizes my chest.
I lost control earlier. I know I did. So, I make quick work of righting that blunder and walk to the back. Remi sits next to Palmer amid the others. They’re taxed, laying languidly on the blanket, laughing and talking.
She looks good with them; she fits. I knew that she would.
As I enter, Remi looks up at me, a slight crease between her eyes.
“Is everything all right with you two?” Palmer asks, referring to my and Sawyer’s tense moment before.
I nod. “It got a little heated,” I say. “We had to decompress.”
Palmer sighs. “That’s what happens when you suppress desires.” She shakes her head. At Remi’s confused expression, she says, “That’s a whole other story for later. How are you feeling?”
Remi inhales a deep breath. “Exhausted,” she says. “But all right. I feel…lighter.”
Palmer giggles. “Right? That’s how I felt too, like all the weight just evaporated.”
Emry traces circles over Palmer’s thigh as he lies next to her, listening to the girls talk about their experience in rapt attention, and even Rush is memorized by our new pet. Maybe Sawyer was right in that aspect; Rush needs someone to ground him. Remi can be that, at least.
I move to stand over Remi. I kneel before her, then hold her soft, glassy eyes as I place a tender kiss to her forehead. “Welcome to the Broken Saints.”
I don’t apologize for my behavior. I’m not designed that way—to make excuses for the things I want and take. Remi got a glimpse of the carnal and primal animal that is in all of us; and it was a very small glimpse of my beast.
“Thank you, Gage,” she says, a smile tugging at her flushed lips. A rush of anger punches me in the gut at the sight of her mouth, recalling Sawyer’s lips pressed to hers.
I stand and turn to leave.
“Are you going?” she asks.
I look back just once, to see her eyes imploring me to stay. She wants me to be with her. I’m not built that way, either.
“My father texted.” I hold up my phone. “Some urgent business he wants to discuss.”
Palmer quirks an eyebrow. “This late?” I send her a stern glare, and she raises her hands in defense. “Sorry.”
I leave them then, unconcerned with the gossip I’m sure is to follow as the minions try to figure out what went down between me and Sawyer. That’s their place. As long as they are loyal, I have no worries.
As I enter the elevator, I open and reread the text.
Chairman: We need to talk.
As the metal doors slide apart, I spot the black Town Car parked just outside of the garage, the suited-up driver waiting for me. I head that way, and he opens the back door for me. “Mr. Astor,” he says in way of greeting.
I nod once and duck my head to climb in. The woman seated opposite me is refined and polished, her sleek dark hair boobed along her shoulders. Her black dress slits up the side of her crossed legs. She’s sexy in spite of her age. Which I know is an insult, as I’ve been told, but you can’t deny the truth.
I open my mouth to compliment her, and she holds up a hand. “Just wait.”
Fine. I obey, looking out the tinted windows as the shops along Main Street slide past. The dockside is a good half hour away, and I’m a little agitated, feeling this is a waste of time, since we could have this conversation anywhere.
But, my mistress likes her privacy. That I can respect.
Yacht Cove is seated on an inlet of the Atlantic south of Boston. The cove is lit up with twinkling lights from the touristy shops along the harbor front and the boats dotting the dark, nighttime water. We’re escorted to the dock, then ushered by two men in black suits to the boarding point of the largest yacht in the port.
Once we’re aboard, the chairman leads me to her personal quarters and shuts the door, requesting privacy from her brutes.
“Was this necessary?” I sink my hands in my pockets and look around the spacious room.
“You’ve done well, Gage,” she says. “Don’t fuck it up now with stupid questions.”
I smile at that. Adjusting my glasses, I take a seat on the posh couch near the bank of windows. Waiting. She’s big on making people wait on her. I get comfortable.
“During our first meeting,” she begins, pouring herself a bourbon, “I told you that you required six members of your own to be considered for the elite rank.”
My back tenses at her disparaging tone.
“You did so,” she continues. “Quite impressively, I might add. But you initiated my daughter without my permission.”
“Mrs. de Pont…”
“Silence, Gage. Don’t interrupt your elders.”
I grit my teeth. We’ve gone over this before. I’ve explained myself to an exasperating extent. Lesley wanted to join. It was more Sawyer’s doing than mine—and I was weaker then, giving in to Sawyer’s demands. Yet Mrs. de Pont never fails to remind me of my…blunder whenever we’re alon
e.
As the leader, it’s my place to take responsibility.
“Show me a picture of her,” she demands.
Incensed, I pull out my phone and flip through the photos until I find the one I’m seeking. I captured this picture last week, while she was talking to Sawyer, unaware. The sight of Sawyer’s beautiful smile tightens my chest.
I flip my phone around and hand it to her.
“Oh, my god,” Mrs. de Pont says, her dark eyes becoming watery. “She looks so much like her…”
“She’s not her,” I say, sitting back against the sofa.
Her hard gaze snaps to me. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
No—but slightly insane, yes. “I apologize, Mrs. de Pont,” I say quickly, affecting my tone with a shade of empathy. “What I mean is, Remi St. James is not a de Pont.”
She sniffs hard. “No, but neither was my Lesley. Not by blood. But that didn’t matter to me. She was a de Pont in all the ways that matter. She was mine.”
I look away, not wanting to meet her gaze with a challenge.
She hands my phone over. “You have initiated Remi into your little society?”
“Just tonight,” I confirm.
“Good.” She stands and walks to the panoramic window of the yacht, her hands clasped in front of her as she cups her tumbler. “Remi must be exposed to the ways of our affluent lifestyle. She must be guided and seamlessly…tailored.” She selects her words carefully. “An adjustment period is needed, to accept our society, so that she will desire this life for herself.”
I smirk. “I believe she already does so, mistress.”
Her head turns my way, her features pinched. “Your cock is not kryptonite, Gage. You might make those little high school girls weak in the knees, but to turn a girl against her own family…? To make her denounce her own bloodline and abandon everything she’s ever known…?” She smiles sardonically. “That can only be done through true love.”
My stomach pitches. This conversation sounds suspiciously like the one Sawyer and I had right before we negotiated the bet.
I nod slowly in acceptance. “So, you want me to seduce Remi St. James,” I say. “We’ve gone over this already.”
She stalks toward me, her long legs crossing one in front of the other. “Your pride may wound you one day,” she says, then tsks. “To be young and fearless, before the world chews you up and spits you out.” She sets her drink down on the end table, then touches my face affectionately. “I barely remember what that arrogant bravado felt like.”
I hold her strong gaze, unwavering.
As she rights herself, she sighs. “You have a lot to make up to me if you want your legacy restored.”
I open my mouth, then close it. What do I say to this bitch? She is the fucking chairman of my father’s society. She runs our chapter; she controls the whole town of Crescent Valley. She holds my future in the palm of her cold, weathered hand.
“I understand, mistress.” The words taste like acid on my tongue.
“Good. You’re a bright boy, Gage. I believe you have brilliant future ahead of you, following in your father’s footsteps.”
I nod once. “Thank you.”
She turns her back to me, and I go to stand, assuming this charade of a meeting is over, but her level voice stops me.
“Who killed my daughter, Gage?” Her question detonates on impact.
My blood ices. I clear my throat. “Mrs. de Pont, as I’ve reiterated many times, it was an unfortunate accident.”
She scoffs. “You except me to believe the police report? I own the police. Who do you think insisted it be deemed an accident?” She shakes her head furiously. “But that didn’t stop the rumors, did it? People still talk about the rich girl who took her own life. So…” She steps closer. “Who told my Lesley she was adopted? Who fucked with my little girl and drove her to end her own life?”
I stand before her, the lie practiced and ready on my tongue. “No one, ma’am. The society even investigated this unfortunate event and found no cause.” How many times do I have to tell this bitch this?
She’s mentally deteriorating. Tabatha de Pont was fierce and formable before her daughter died. Her mourning has…unhinged her in ways, and there’s murmurs of a hostile takeover, a powerplay for the throne.
She eyes me sternly. “Remi will be the next in line,” she states. “Make it happen, Gage. Or else I will be most unhappy.”
I breathe evenly, restraining my anger. “Yes, mistress.”
“You’re dismissed. Have Marvin drive you back to town.” She picks up her drink and takes a long swig before exiting the room.
Just when I think I’m in the clear, she peeks her head back inside. “One more thing,” she says. “Is your little feud with the Van Doren girl going to get in the way of your task?”
My back teeth clamp down hard. I work my jaw, shaking my head. “No, ma’am. Sawyer and I…we’re just getting used to our new arrangement.”
Her ruby-red lips tip into a twisted smile. “I’m looking forward to the wedding.” Then she leaves.
The merger, she means. Tabatha de Pont has a vested interest in the two companies joining forces.
I blow out a heavy breath, releasing the tension from my body.
Sawyer wasn’t completely off base when she questioned my intent to make Remi head of the Broken Saints upon our graduation. It’s a trial run—one requested by Mrs. de Pont, to prepare Remi for her role as Crescent Valley chapter chairman of the society.
What she really wants? A daughter to replace the one she lost.
However, the members are not pleased with the way their chairman has been slipping lately, and that one day soon an outsider could be in control of the wealthiest and most powerful secret society in the world.
I know this, because my father has a tendency grumble about society politics when he’s drunk.
There’s a rebellion brewing among the ranks.
All it takes is persistence, patience, and one sly underling could capitalize on Tabatha de Pont’s misstep.
As I’m seated in the back of the Town Car, I scroll through my messages, finding Sawyer. Maybe it’s time to bring her into the know completely. I admit, I’ve had fun with our games, but things are turning more serious now.
I feel like tossing a coin. Letting Fate decide. A challenge to the gods of chance.
I tap out a text to Sawyer, then think better, pocketing my phone.
“Marvin, please take me to the Van Doren residence.”
“Yes, sir.”
I sit back and recall Sawyer’s last words to me: When the time comes, I’ll let you know.
What is my little minx up to?
Remi St. James cannot succeed me to the throne I’ve plotted for the past two years to make mine. And Sawyer cannot overthrow me in my own future company.
No, the two have to align. I don’t need enemies—I need accomplices. Ones I can control…if not trust.
There’s more at stake now than ever before.
* * *
Thank you, dear reader, for starting this journey with me. I hope you’ve enjoyed the Broken Saints’ story so far, and are looking forward the next installment coming soon.
Who killed Lesley de Pont? Did she commit suicide? What are your theories?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in our secret Facebook group.
I hope you’ll apply to become a member of the secret society of Broken Saints. Just tell Gage I sent you ;)
Want to receive email reminders for new releases and insider events? Sign up to my VIP list here.
Dangerous Girls: Broken Saints Society 2 is available to order now here.
About Leia Thorne
Leia Thorne is the author of the Broken Saints Society series. She has many more books planned.
Learn more here: http://bit.ly/2EQxdcB
