I huffed out a breath as I thought on that. “On the night they first shot at Tatum with the bow the evidence conveniently pointed us towards Mila too. What if that wasn’t an accident? What if they have purposefully made it look like her friends so that she feels like she can’t trust anyone. It would be a good way to try and isolate her. Make her more vulnerable to them.”
Kyan growled like a wild beast at that suggestion, sweeping up the baseball bat and swinging it in a savage arc which ended with a dent in the wall.
“A bow?” Toby asked, wincing slightly at the damaged brickwork. “Like the ones the archery club use?”
The three of us exchanged a loaded look and Saint clucked his tongue.
“I’ve already looked into the seven members of the archery club and come to the conclusions that, A, they don’t have the balls to pull this off and, B, none of them have any motivation. They’re not even students who would have crossed Tatum’s path.”
“Well maybe it’s someone who isn’t in the club officially but still likes to use the equipment?” I suggested. “We could ask if they’ve seen anyone lurking around down there or if anyone has asked to borrow anything recently?”
“I believe they’re a pretty skilled archer,” Saint mused. “So it would make sense for them to be keeping their skills sharp by practicing regularly…”
“They seem like a pretty shit archer to me,” Kyan contradicted. “They always miss.”
“They miss on purpose,” Saint growled, rolling his eyes like that was the most obvious thing in the world. “They clearly either don’t want a murder investigation taking place on campus or are not ready to elevate their attacks to that level yet. The note that was delivered made it clear that they see our girl as rightfully belonging to them. What they really want is to separate us from her. Tonight they had her at their mercy, they clearly found a way to dose her with something, likely rohypnol or ketamine-”
“Date rape?” I interrupted him, my fists locking tight as the fury in me rose to the surface once more. “You think he was going to-”
“No. That’s the point. If he had wanted to, he had his opportunity. I don’t believe she could have escaped him without him allowing it which either means he gets off on her fear or this was just a trial run,” Saint said and lucky for him I’d figured out how to read his rage in his eyes because the emotionless way he delivered that statement would have had me punching him a few weeks ago.
“No Justice Ninja or stalker or anyone else is going to get close enough to her to ever attempt it again,” Kyan snarled fiercely. “From now on, she goes nowhere alone. There are four of us and we can easily take shifts.”
Toby was listening to all of this with rapt interest and Saint tsked as he remembered we had an audience.
“Come on,” he growled, heading for the door. “Let’s start by interrogating some archery assholes and then we can move the hunt on from there. I won’t rest until we’ve gotten some fucking answers. Someone in this school knows something that will lead us to this fucking Ninja and when we find him, his life really won’t be worth living.”
I woke in a sea of soft sheets, the scent of apple reaching to me and making me sigh contentedly. My brain was still foggy and my mouth was too dry as I ran my tongue across the roof of it.
"Mmm," I groaned as I pushed myself up, my eyes immediately locking with Saint's who was sitting in the chair across the room in a grey button down, the sleeves rolled up and his elbows rested on his knees. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept a single wink, but his face brightened as he saw me awake.
He stood, wordlessly moving to my nightstand and handing me a full glass of water and two Advil. I thanked him, washing them down and draining the whole glass, feeling a little better as I sated my thirst.
"What time is it?" I murmured.
"Eleven thirty three," Saint answered without even glancing at the clock. How the hell did he do that? It was like he had an inbuilt, finely tuned pocket watch in his brain. "An offensive time, but not quite as disconcerting as eleven thirty seven."
I broke a smile and he surprised me by smiling back. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear and it didn't feel like he was fixing me for once. It felt like he was consoling me. And coming from Saint Memphis that was akin to him turning into a cartoon character and bounding off on a fun-filled adventure to save the world. It didn't freaking happen.
"Any news on the Justice Ninja?" I asked hopefully. Had they found them? Strung them up by the hair from one of the pine trees with two broken legs and the word monster carved into their forehead?
Saint shook his head minimally like the gesture hurt him to admit. "Whoever they are, they're covering their tracks well. Kyan, Monroe and I were out all night hunting them but we still haven’t managed to find anything concrete to lead us to them. But I want you to know I am taking this deadly seriously and if they think they can outwit me any longer, they are wrong." He looked straight into my eyes. "I will destroy them for you. I swear it on every scrap of my sullied soul."
His words lit a bloodlust in me that was yearning to be sated. "I want to be there when that happens," I said firmly, no room for negotiation.
"I guarantee it," he said simply and I knew he'd keep his word. "One thing we have deduced is that Toby Rosner is not and never was your stalker. He was framed."
I gasped, thinking over all the awful things that boy had been through since they'd outcast him into the Unspeakables again. "Are you sure?" I asked desperately.
He nodded simply, no room for error in this decision and I believed him.
"Fuck…that's awful," I said heavily. "We have to make it up to him."
"We have already come to an arrangement which ensures he is well compensated for our mistake. It is unfortunate, but there is always a margin of error in corporal punishment. That does not mean the death sentence should be revoked."
I gaped at him for a long second, the cold detachment in his eyes reminding me that I was in the bed of a killer. But that didn't scare me like it should have. It made me feel like I was right where I belonged. Because I was one too.
“Ok…good,” I said, trying to cast my mind back over what had happened last night but everything just seemed so muddled that all I could really remember was running through the woods, fearing for my life while the stench of gasoline overwhelmed me and then…then I was safe again, held in the arms of my Night Keepers. I was almost certain that they’d all been there, holding me close at once. But maybe that had just been a dream. I certainly wasn’t going to ask Saint about it to find out.
“Do you remember anything about the man who took you?” he asked, holding my eye and keeping his tone soft.
“I…” I tried to think back on what had happened but all I could really remember was the library before anything had happened and then running. “Maybe a guy’s voice,” I said but I wasn’t sure and it made my head pound to try.
“That’s alright,” Saint said softly. “Don’t force the memories. But if anything comes to you then let me know.”
“Thanks. Umm, how did I end up here?” I asked, looking around his room in confusion. “I thought I was sleeping on the couch at one point.”
“I carried you up here when it was clear you still needed more sleep after we returned from our hunt,” he explained. “And I volunteered to be the one to stay and look after you while the others went to class today in the hopes of flushing the culprit out.”
“Oh,” I said, which didn’t really progress the conversation, but my head was still spinning and I wasn’t sure what more to say on the subject while my memories were so hazy.
"So..." Saint got to his feet, striding over to the balcony railing and clasping his hands behind his back as he gazed over The Temple like an emperor gazing across his land. "I have something I would like to discuss with you, siren."
"What's that?" I asked, leaning back against the pile of pillows behind me and letting my eyes flutter closed as I waited fo
r the Advil to take effect on my headache.
"I suppose you have considered the fact that the dynamic between us all might change once we have graduated from Everlake," he said calmly, but there was an undercurrent to his voice that set the hairs prickling across my arms.
I opened my eyes, frowning at him, but he didn't turn to face me. “Yes,” I admitted.
"Leaving here unsettles me greatly. As I am sure you have noticed, routine is key to my internal state remaining tranquil. But there is one thing that unsettles me far more than leaving this school does - I already have a plan in place for where me, Blake and Kyan will go and have amended that plan to include both you and Nash - but the question is..." He turned around, his eyes a roiling sea of darkness that made my heart skip a beat. "Will you run from us once we leave here? When the world opens up once more and there are no more chains binding you to us?”
I took a deep breath, needing to be honest and let him know that I’d been grappling with this subject myself. "Saint...I don't want my life decided for me. Whatever plan you have-"
"It is a fairly simple one. All of us will attend Yale together – I would have preferred Princeton all in all as it offers the best music program out of all the Ivy League colleges, but Yale is only second to that and although the sports department is not quite as proficient as Harvard, no doubt Blake will bring their football team up in the rankings with a little investment or two from his father. There is also a fantastic art division for Kyan as he will no doubt refuse to take on anything more academic, but the frat parties alone will be enough to ensure his contentment. From a little research, I have pulled Nash’s job application from the school’s online server and discovered that he has a surprising aptitude for history, so he may choose their classic Greek civilisation course or perhaps he will opt for a broader spectrum of study. As for you, I am aware you have made little suggestion that you have thought about college, so I decided on Yale as the optimum option as it is within just two miles of New Haven Harbour. And though I am well aware it is no Californian beach-”
“Saint,” I tried to stop him, but he barrelled on.
“And don’t worry about exam pressure. If our grades don't talk, money will. Nash can attend as a mature student and I have already put an offer in on a newly built fraternity house – to my exact specifications - where the five of us can reside. You will have a choice of courses, I have a course pack you can look through when you're ready, but might I suggest you look at their English division as you have quite the aptitude for-"
"Saint," I cut him off more firmly, shaking my head. "Look, I never planned to go college, okay? I don't even know what I want to do with my life yet, but I know there's no school subject I'm passionate enough about that I'd go to college for. All I ever really dreamed about was..." I glanced away, unsure if I wanted to share one of my innermost secrets with Saint. Not when he still held my sister's letters from me. Not when there were still so many trust issues between us that I wasn't sure if I'd ever get past them. But I could see he wasn’t going to let this go if I didn’t explain myself. I sighed. “I just want something of my own, somewhere I love where I can put down roots and stop moving from state to state. Lately I’ve been thinking about starting a business…maybe training girls in self-defence. I could purchase a gym by the beach.”
He considered my words with a stoic expression before nodding once as he made some assessment then strode into his closet. I took a moment to rub my tired eyes and when I opened them again, Saint was standing before me with Jess's letters in his hand. He held them out to me, his eyes firmly on mine as he gave them up. I hunted for the joke in his eyes, certain he wouldn't really be giving me them, but I didn't waste time staring, I grabbed them from him and hugged them to my chest.
It felt like getting a piece of myself back as I clutched onto them and guilt stirred in my gut over the fact that I hadn't written a letter to Jess in a long time. But it had felt like giving Saint more ammo to use against me if he found them.
He kicked off his shoes and got onto the bed, sitting beside me and I looked to him, waiting for an explanation. Silence stretched and a muscle worked in his jaw as he seemed to be thinking up what to say. Maybe he was struggling with putting it into words. He knew the value of giving these back to me. It didn't make it right that he'd taken them in the first place, or that he'd made me believe he'd burned them, but he'd just handed over his leverage on me.
"When I first met Blake, he irritated the fuck out of me," Saint said, surprising me with the direction of conversation he'd taken, but I stayed quiet to see where he was going with this. "My father thought it would be good for me to join a pee-wee football club growing up and obviously I couldn't just attend any club, he had to join me up to one full of the most elite kids in Sequoia state, including the son of the owner of the Redwood Rattlesnakes. He wanted to connect with Blake's dad while he was campaigning for mayor, no doubt offering funding for the various clubs and teams his father had sway with. Kyan attended the team too. We were ten. I already knew him from playdates since my father had been working on building connections with the O’Briens for years. Our friendship had been written for us since the day of our fucking conception. Of course, I hadn’t expected to like Kyan, but I had immediately recognised a darkness in him that mirrored my own soul and we’d found enough to bond over. It wasn’t like that with Blake. Blake was enthusiastic, loud, obnoxious. All qualities I can’t tend to stand in a human being.”
I laughed a little and he tossed me a dark grin that made my heart hammer wildly.
“Anyway, Kyan immediately took a liking to Blake, their competitive sides driving them together on the field until they realised taking down the opposition side by side was far more satisfying. I, however, grew jealous of Kyan’s relationship with Blake. Kyan was the only friend I had ever had. The only person I’d ever let in. And now he had found a boy he seemed to enjoy the company of more than me. I wasn’t like Blake, I didn’t offer Kyan easy laughs, I tended to prefer a more regimented kind of fun. Games I was in charge of were my forte. Not rude jokes and fart noises as Blake Bowman seemed to be fond of at that age. And I wanted to hurt him for it.”
I pictured the three of them at that age, Blake and Kyan playing together and laughing while an angry little Saint Memphis stood watching from the side lines, plotting Blake’s downfall.
“And did you hurt him?” I asked, enraptured by the story.
Saint released a low laugh. “Yes. I broke into his locker while he was showering one day and took a signed photograph of him and the Rattlesnakes’ linebacker, Dirk Hadley, he’d been flashing around to everyone on the team that day. He searched for it frantically after his shower and I watched with a sweet satisfaction over taking something so precious from him, of wielding that power against my enemy.”
Woah, even at ten years old Saint had been an itty bitty psycho. Why is that so freaking cute?
“My plan took a turn when Kyan started hunting for the photograph too, sizing up to all the boys on the team and threatening to beat their heads in if they didn’t give it back. That made me angry in a way I couldn’t put into words, so I took the photograph from my pocket, showing Blake I had it before marching into a bathroom stall. I ripped it into ten pieces and dropped it in the toilet before pulling the chain.”
I gasped. “What did Blake do?”
“He punched me,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “And Kyan threatened to do the same, only…Blake stopped him.”
“Why?” I asked in surprise.
“He said…he knew that I was jealous of him and Kyan. And that I could be his friend too if I wanted.”
My heart squeezed. Typical Blake. He always knew when I was in pain, and he could clearly sense that in Saint too.
“I said no, obviously,” Saint deadpanned and I snorted a laugh. “But then when his father showed up to collect him outside the locker room and started screaming and shouting at him about losing that photo, Blake didn’t tell him I’d done it. He took
the fall. And the next time we had football together, he kicked a boy who dared to say he hoped Santa Claus brought me a personality for Christmas. That was where our friendship truly started. But the thing is, after that day I became afraid of the idea of losing those two people who made my life good. And after I’d seen Blake’s reaction to losing his photograph, I realised he would have done anything to get it back. So I took something important from each of them…” He leaned over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, taking a little silver box from it which I had seen before but had never been able to open. He twisted two little dials until a click sounded and it opened. Inside he revealed a silver zippo lighter and a pen with a hologram of a dinosaur on it. “The lighter is Kyan’s. He always played with it, even at ten years old. His family gave zero shits if he accidentally burned the world down I suppose. And Blake loved this stupid hologram pen. He brought it to every single fucking class once we started attending middle school together the following fall. I took these things hostage to ensure they never left me. They both beat me up to try and get them back, but they didn’t cut me off. We stayed friends and it became a running joke between us that I had their valued possessions locked away somewhere – they often liked to guess places like my haunted bell tower, the attic where I kept all the bodies of those who’d wronged me, or in a box made of human teeth. Hilarious as always,” he deadpanned. “Eventually, they gave up and told me to keep them.” A crease formed on his brow. “I guess a part of me thought they remained my friends because I had these items. Stupid really…but effective in the right circumstances.” He gestured to the letters and I gazed at him, hurting for the little boy who really thought his friends would leave him if he didn’t hold their prized possessions ransom. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I kept those letters to ensure you had to stay. But I don’t want to use them to make you remain with me anymore. I’d like, very much, if you chose to stay with all of us.”
Kings of Anarchy Page 53
