Holy shit.
Monroe wrapped his hand around mine in an act of solidarity and we walked across the lounge together and slipped into his room. Saint had left me a fitted black dress with red roses printed on it and Monroe had a pair of smart cream chinos and a white dress shirt waiting. Did he bring these freaking clothes with him?
I was soon in the dress, my heart beating wildly as I looked to Monroe who was lost in thought, a line of tension on his brow. When I put on the strappy black heels Saint had provided, Monroe pulled me against him, gripping my cheeks in his palms. "Whatever happens, we'll figure it out."
My lips opened and I nodded quickly, clutching his hands over my face. "I'm yours," I swore. "Nothing will change that."
"I will fight for you with everything I have," he growled and I just bathed in the closeness of him for a long moment, the two of us feeding on each other’s strength.
We strode from the room together, hand in hand and ready to face down the devil.
Saint had moved to sit in an armchair which he’d dragged in front of the couch on the other side of the coffee table like we were about to enter some sort of fucked up couple’s therapy session.
"Sit." He gestured to the couch before taking another long sip of his vodka, a sense of smugness about him, though his expression was entirely neutral.
Me and Monroe sat together, our hands still clasped. There was no point denying what we were now, and I found I didn't want to either. I lifted my chin, owning my decision, owning Nash Monroe.
Saint fixed his eyes on Monroe and the intensity of them could have cut glass. "I know who you are," he said, letting a smile curl up his lips. "I know everything."
My mind spun and fear slid through me at what he knew about us. About how long this had been going on.
Monroe's grip on my hand tightened, but he said nothing. Saint could be bluffing. We had to let him state what he knew, couldn't give anything away ourselves in case he was fishing for answers.
"Enlighten me," Monroe said, his voice rough and full of hate.
Saint placed his vodka down on the table, taking his sweet time to respond as he raised his leg and balanced his ankle on his knee, leaning back in his seat like the king of the fucking world. "Your real name is Jase Harrington. You are Maria Harrington’s son. Brother of Michael Harrington."
Dread filled my gut as I realised Saint hadn't been bluffing and Monroe's spine straightened as Saint went on.
"Your mother was involved a traffic collision with my father on Lake Street in Elm Grove. Her son, your brother, Michael, was killed in the crash, thrown from the car due to his lack of seatbelt."
"That was becau-" Monroe started, but Saint spoke louder, talking over him, saying it all with a cold detachment that made me deeply fear what he was going to do.
"Your mother was subsequently sent to prison where she later died in a brawl, meaning you were sent into foster care and lost your chance of paying for the partial scholarship you won to attend Lakeview High School. Though that is the official version of events, I happen to know my father is a scheming bastard with far too much money and power, so I did some further digging and discovered the payments he made to cover up his own culpability and ensure your mother’s imprisonment. I also found a trail of money which led to Marina Barnes who was one of the women suspected of your mother’s murder in the prison. I assume you know that he did all of this and that is why you chose to change your name and come after him via me. You would not give up on your hunt for justice seeing as my father had covered up the incident of his own misdemeanour and ensured your mother took the fall instead." He threaded his fingers together and stacked them on his chest, waiting for Monroe's response.
"I-" Monroe began, but Saint instantly cut him off again.
"I know you have been on my laptop, I know Tatum helped you, I know that you are trying to work against me and my father. I am also now acutely aware that you are also fucking our Night Bound," Saint delivered the killing blow.
"Alright, you know," Monroe snarled, straightening his spine as he refused to cow down in the face of everything he’d done, owning it with the fire of hatred that had driven him for so long. "I get it. So what are you going to do about it, Memphis?"
I gripped his hand tighter, looking to Saint, ready to go to bat for Monroe and use any sway I had with this heathen to ensure Monroe wasn't punished for what he'd done.
"Look, Saint-" I started, but he refused to let me speak, cutting over me too.
"Let's work through this infraction by infraction," Saint said calmly, clearly having rehearsed how this whole thing would go in his head. "The lies," he hissed. "Are what irk me most. However, taking into consideration my father's behaviour and the concern you would have had telling me the truth, Nash, I am willing to let those slide. It is quite understandable that you would assume a false identity, take a job at this school and work tirelessly to get close to me in order to target my father in penance for his crimes against your family."
I shared a look with Monroe, shocked by his acceptance of that. But then again, this was Saint Memphis, convoluted and over constructed plans were kinda his thing, so maybe Monroe’s approach to this whole situation actually made perfect sense to him.
"However," Saint said cuttingly and my throat tightened as I looked to him once more. "What I cannot accept is the betrayal on your behalf, Tatum." His eyes arrowed onto me and my jaw dropped.
"My betrayal?" I snorted. "You do realise I was working against you, Blake and Kyan for a long time, right? I punished you all for what you did to me. Monroe was the only one who I could confide in. Of course I helped him in return."
Saint nodded slowly as acid seemed to drip down my throat.
"Yes, that makes sense." He agreed like he was more interested in trying to piece this puzzle together than anything else. "And that leads me to my next question. Is this relationship purely sex or is it more than that?"
"Tatum is everything to me," Monroe growled and my heart squeezed.
"He's mine," I said possessively. "And I won't let you take him from me. If he leaves this school, so will I."
Saint's brows arched ever so slightly and I felt Monroe's eyes on me, but I couldn't look away from our judge, jury and executioner.
"I see," Saint said, nodding once. "Well, that settles it then." He looked to Monroe. "We will all keep your secret when it comes to your illegal little affair, and where my father is concerned well...I have a proposal for you."
I stared at him in utter shock and sensed Monroe doing the same thing. Where was the freak out? Where was the lecture about him being my teacher and this going against the rules? Where was the yelling and smashing things and the forcing us to beg?
"What proposal?" Monroe balked and Saint smiled, clearly loving how he was unsettling and confusing us at once. For someone who lived by rigid rules and routines, he was the most unpredictable asshole I'd ever known.
"I have, for quite some years now, been preparing to financially ruin my father in what I suppose you could call my own quest for vengeance. Although I wouldn't put it so colourfully myself. I do, however, wish to destroy him as deeply and irrefutably as a person can be destroyed. First, I shall take his wealth. Which I have been working on for years, slowly buying up shares in his companies under multiple false names so that I am the commanding shareholder in each of them, gaining the names of those he bribes and those he is bribed by and paying them off myself so that their loyalty is turned to me. I am in the prime position to take every single asset he owns from him without him ever even realising that I am coming. And I have made absolutely certain that any friends who he thinks may come to his aid will be less than willing to help when he comes begging. My finger is on the trigger, and once I graduate, I will pull it and set in motion his fall from grace."
"So you're going to take all of his money and run off into the fucking sunset?" Monroe shrugged. "I don't give a fuck about his money. I want him hurt, I want him broken, I want him fucking bloody for
what he did to my family."
The passion in his voice made my lungs labour and I found myself wanting that more than ever too. I wanted him to get his revenge just like I had on Mortez. I wanted him to be free of this heavy weight he carried on his shoulders day after day.
Saint considered that. "The money of course is not just mine. You will be entitled to it just as I am and the other Night Keepers are, but if that is not enough, then obviously once that has been stripped from him, I will offer up the information of all the corrupt dealings he has had during his time in power to the authorities and have him arrested. His reputation will be dashed to pieces, his name smeared through the muck. He will rot in prison, I will hire the best lawyers to ensure it. And if that is not enough, there are always strings that can be pulled after the matter...strings he once pulled against your mother. Would that satisfy you, Jase?"
Monroe's breathing was heavy and I turned to him, placing my hand on his back. His gaze was locked on Saint, his jaw pulsing, his eyes flaring with the pain of his shattered family. Of what Saint’s father had done to him. And I felt his pain as powerfully as if it was my own.
“I don’t want to be called Jase,” Monroe said. “I’m not him anymore. He died alongside my family and I don’t want to taint his name with the things I’m going to do to avenge them.”
“Okay, Nash,” Saint said like it didn’t bother him either way. “Would my proposition satisfy you?”
"Yes," Monroe hissed. "That would satisfy me. But how am I supposed to place my faith in you of all people?"
"Trust is something that is earned. Nothing I say now will earn your trust in me...or Tatum's. Only my actions from this day forward will gain that." He glanced at me and my stomach writhed. He knew the truth; I didn't trust him. But I had moved further in that direction. It was just hard to solidify any faith in him with the memories of what he'd done to me still fresh enough to sting.
"You're cutthroat," I told him. "I don't feel I can trust you, because one wrong action against you could mean having my head forced underwater in The Temple's font, or fish stew thrown in my face, or being locked in a freaking coffin.”
Saint winced and I saw actual pain in his eyes as I said those words. "No...you will not receive that sort of treatment from me again. Things have changed now. The rules have been re-evaluated. And you must know...you must know that..." he trailed off, shaking his head and shutting his eyes hard, seeming like he was a slave to some nightmare inside him.
"Know what?" I breathed, my heart beating out a fierce tune as I hung on his answer like it mattered more than anything else he’d said tonight.
"The truth is…" he sighed, opening his eyes and I fell into the raging maelstrom within them. "I'm not sorry for what I did, because I was not the man I am today sitting in front of you. I cannot apologise for that man any more than I can apologise for the actions of another. But I will say this, Tatum, I will never do those things to you again. I do not desire it, in fact, it unsettles me greatly to even picture it now."
My cheeks flushed warm at his admission and I found myself letting go of my hurt over that a little more. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't even a guarantee that he wouldn't slide back into being that man and lose himself to the darkness again. But it was something. Something big. Something I could see in Saint almost physically, gleaming out from the depths of his eyes. He had changed. And maybe I could trust this new version of him. But could Monroe find his way to trusting him too?
"Y ou see this library full of people?" Tatum demanded while I lingered by her table.
"When you're in a room it's as if no one else is here, babe," I teased as I perched my ass on the edge of her desk and she fought against the smile which was tugging at the corner of her lips.
"You can't just flirt your way around the rules Blake Bowm-"
I leaned down and stole a kiss from that angry little mouth of hers and when she didn't shove me off, I pressed forward instead. I got to my feet and tugged her up too, kissing her demandingly as I led her down between two of the stacks before pushing her back against a shelf lined with heavy books.
I dropped my mouth to her jaw, her throat, the very edge of her school shirt collar and the little gasps of pleasure that escaped her had my heart pounding with this new idea. Fuck watching her work on her physics assignment for hours when I could give her a physical right here anyway.
"Blake," Tatum moaned and it was at least half encouragement as the protests faded so I slid my hands up her golden thighs and made my way beneath the hem of her school skirt.
"I'm helping you with your work," I insisted as I moved into her so that she had to part her thighs a little wider so that I could stand between them. "We could call it a practical lesson with a heavy focus on how thrust combined with the perfect levels of friction can result in explosive energy consuming your entire body."
"You're breaking the rules. I’m supposed to be allowed to study here alone," she reminded me as my fingers reached the edge of her panties and I pulled back just enough to look into her blue eyes as my thumb rode across them and sought out her clit.
"Are you going to punish me then, Cinders?" I teased as she stifled a moan, her fingers curling around the thick spines of the books behind her.
"I'm supposed to be allowed private study time here away from all of you and your distracting bodies," she half complained but as I began circling my thumb, that line of thought seemed to abandon her.
"Is that the only thing you like about me?" I teased as she bit down on her bottom lip to try and fight back another moan. "My body? Because I'm not just a piece of meat for you to use, you know?'
"Well your people skills leave something to be desired," she panted, drawing a laugh from me. "And that competitive streak of yours can be-"
"No fraternising between the shelves!" the librarian shrieked from somewhere behind me and I groaned in frustration as Tatum's eyes widened and she shoved me back a step.
I reluctantly obliged, tugging my hands back out from beneath her skirt as I stepped away. I turned towards the librarian with my winning smile in place as I situated myself before Tatum, blocking off the view of her as she straightened out her uniform.
"Of course not, Miss Gaskin. I was just helping Tate reach a book on the top shelf.” I grabbed a random book and held it out as evidence.
Gaskin narrowed her gaze on me but said nothing, knowing the line she was treading by mixing it with a Night Keeper at all. But she was clearly unwilling to just leave me here to try and finish what we'd started all the same. Probably didn’t want cum stains on the biology books. So unreasonable.
I half considered telling her to leave us the fuck alone, but one glance my girl’s way told me I was well and truly done with this game I’d begun and I heaved a sigh, reaching for her hand and drawing her back through the library to her table instead.
“This is the part where you insist I fuck off, isn’t it?” I asked her, giving her my best puppy dog look but she wasn’t biting.
“I’ll never get my work done with you here,” she said. “Just give me a few hours, I won’t be going anywhere until you come back to escort me. This place is full of other students plus Miss Gaskin. I’m perfectly safe here and my work won’t do itself.”
I gave in with a dramatic groan and she rolled her eyes at me teasingly.
“So long as you tell me we can pick up where we left off once you’re done?” I asked, linking my fingers in a prayer gesture and earning myself a dirty little smirk.
“If I get everything done then maybe.”
“I’ll take that maybe as a promise, Cinders,” I said, leaning in to kiss her once more and seal that promise before backing away from her through the crowded room.
“See you later, golden boy,” she teased and my smile widened.
“You can bet your ass you will,” I agreed. “All of me.” Her blush made me bark a laugh as a lot of the students around the study space made zero effort to hide their interest in our interaction.
I even heard some little fucker whispering to their companion, pointing out that she was married to Kyan like the idea of us sharing her blew their precious little minds. But fuck them, they knew nothing about the Night Keepers and how we worked. The conventional rules of society had never been made to apply to us and if our girl could satisfy me and Kyan then who was I to question that?
In fact, if they really wanted their minds blown then they really should hear about the way Saint had caught her sucking Monroe’s cock. I’d been a bit pissed about it at first, but once I’d gotten over the shock – and Kyan had spent several hours goading both me and Saint about how he’d figured it out months ago while making a shit ton of dirty student/teacher jokes before playing a relevant porn clip on the TV for us to see with a naughty school girl getting caned by a professor in a tweed jacket and no pants – it had actually made a lot of sense. I couldn’t place my finger on it exactly, but I guess I’d been picking up on that tension between the two of them for a while now.
It had annoyed me before Saint had pointed out that I’d literally agreed to it in the new rules. Besides, I was already sharing her with Kyan and Saint clearly had his eyes on her too so I’d decided that I wasn’t going to waste time on jealousy. This was just another competition that I could win. I’d be the best boyfriend who gave her the most orgasms and I’d take my prize in the form of kisses from those sweet vanilla lips of hers. Simple.
I headed away when my cheesy grin was bordering on stalker vibes and strode out into the cool air with a sigh. I now had two hours to kill and nothing to drag me out of the darkness that had been niggling at me today.
Today had been a fairly good day for distractions, we’d spent over an hour chasing Stalker with golf carts earlier while throwing pine cones at him before pouring a bottle of olive oil over his head, coating him in flour and locking him in the maintenance cupboard to think about what he’d done for the night. Classic. But it still wasn’t enough to totally crush my concerns.
Ever since Kyan had gotten the Hades Virus, I'd found myself worrying about Saint and Monroe catching it too, fretting over whether or not they'd be strong enough to survive it and freaking myself out over the prospect of losing anyone else the way I'd lost my mom.
Kings of Anarchy Page 49
