The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series)

by Siobhan Davis

  “Figure what out?”

  He slaps me across the face, and my head whips back, my cheek stinging from the impact. Saint takes a step forward, and I shoot him a warning with my eyes. Caz tugs him back as Sinner looks at his son with obvious displeasure.

  Neo refocuses on me. “Let’s try this again.” He cracks his knuckles. “If you lie to me, I will hurt you. Answer me truthfully, and I’ll let you go.”

  Yeah, right. As if I believe that.

  “When did you figure out we were the ones who kidnapped you?”

  There’s no point hiding it anymore or playing this sick song and dance we’ve been playing since he showed up at my house. “When I was sixteen.” I eyeball him, and it’s like staring the devil in the face. “Why did you kidnap me?” I have my theories and I’d like to see if I’m right.

  “Your father was struggling to understand the implications of our…business relationship. He needed a reminder that he was tied to us for life.”

  “You used me to keep him in line. To ensure he continued doing dirty work for you.” It’s what I’ve always suspected, because the only way Dad would ever get into bed with those assholes is if they were holding me or Mom over his head.

  He nods. “Did your father know you worked it out?”

  “I never told him.”

  “But is that the truth?” he asks, arching a brow.

  The guy with the missing tooth and an abundance of nose hair on his right tilts his head to the side, his gaze roaming me from head to toe, and I’ve never been more grateful to be wearing an oversized hoodie. I wonder if these guys were part of the crew who kidnapped me.

  “It’s the truth. He died not realizing I knew.”

  Sinner grins, flashing me perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth that look so out of place in his sneering mouth. “That’s where you’re wrong. I think Pops did know. That’s why he started feeding you false intel to pass to us.”

  My heart rate kicks up. “What false intel?”

  “What do you mean?” Saint adds, his voice laced with confusion. “Why would Harlow be passing you intel?”

  Sinner jumps up, grabbing Saint around the throat. Tension bleeds in the air. “Interrupt me again and you’ll spend a week in the pit.” Sinner shoves him away. “Shut up or I’ll have you removed.”

  Sinner sits back down on the seat. “This is the part the board has trouble with.” He looks up at the guys flanking him on both sides, confirming their status. “There are some of us who believe you weren’t aware that the information you passed to us the last twelve months was bogus.”

  “It was fake?” I blurt, my brow puckering. “Why? I don’t understand?” My gaze bounces between the men.

  “It was orchestrated to trap us, and it almost worked.” His jaw flexes, and murderous rage flits across his face. “Your father paid the price for that treachery, but do you need to pay the price too?”

  “I didn’t know,” I protest, my mind whirling at this latest revelation.

  It’s true that when I’d figured out it was The Sainthood who had kidnapped me, and they were the ones I was spying on Dad for, I became more careful about the information I included in the monthly drop-offs. Before I knew the truth, I just copied the files from Dad’s office intact and handed them over because I was a scared kid who believed them when they told me they would kill both my parents if I didn’t cooperate.

  They threatened me just before I was released, and, even as a young kid, I knew then I would never be free. They told me if I didn’t do what they said they’d kill my parents and take me again, and this time it would be forever. They said, “It’s simple. Just copy the files, bring them to the drop-off point, and no one gets hurt.”

  But there is nothing simple about betrayal.

  The weight of that responsibility, and the pressure of the guilt, is something I’ve carried with me every day since.

  The drop-offs were always in the same place, and I never saw anyone. I used to leave the envelope in the mailbox at the assigned time and go home. I remember being tempted to hang around to see if I could catch a glimpse of my kidnappers, but I never did it because I was terrified they’d follow through on their threat and kill my family.

  After I discovered their identity, and I was old enough to understand the information in Dad’s work files, I left stuff out on purpose, only handing over minor shit but enough to avoid arousing suspicion. However, if what Sinner is saying is true, and the information was fake, it means Dad knew I was stealing his paperwork and handing it to the enemy.

  I can’t keep the torment off my face as pain, loathing, and guilt battle for supremacy inside me. I hope he understood that I didn’t have any choice. I hang my head in shame, feeling the weight of the guy’s shock boring imaginary holes in my back.

  I don’t know if the fact Dad knew makes it better or worse. I’ve carried the guilt for his death these past few months. Knowing he was deliberately feeding them fake intelligence should ease the burden, but I know it won’t. Even if it’s shared, I will forever live with the knowledge that I helped get my dad killed.

  I didn’t complete any more drop-offs after Dad died, because there was no fresh information, and, at first I’d thought they didn’t know he had more evidence. Until they showed up at the house, Neo got engaged to Mom, and the guys started harassing me. Then, I knew the stakes had been raised and the strategy had changed.

  Right now, I’ve no idea where Sinner is going with this except he’s hoping to cause a divide in the bond I have with his son and the other Saints. The unpredictability of his actions has me on edge, and I’m working hard to hold on to my composure.

  Sinner shifts closer to me on the chair, gripping my chin and forcing my head up. “I came to a realization recently. We’ve been going about this all wrong. I sent my son and the other initiates into Lowell High to intimidate you”—he sneers at Saint—“and I was so disappointed in their failure, but I’ll admit I might’ve been wrong. I didn’t realize Trey had taken his protection to such extremes.” He holds my chin painfully. “He’s prepared you well. I see now that intimidation and manipulation won’t work, so it’s time to flip it on its head.”

  “Stop speaking in riddles,” I say, earning another slap.

  “I know you know a lot more than you’re admitting. I know you know where your dad kept the evidence. You won’t tell us shit while you’re on the outside, so it’s time to bring you in.”

  “What?” Saint croaks, looking thoroughly confused when our eyes meet.

  Sinner stands, grinning. “Give a warm welcome to our newest initiate, boys, because Harlow is joining the ranks.”

  CHAPTER 34

  “WHAT?” I STUTTER. “Women can’t be members.” I cast a glance at the guys, and shock is evident on all three of their faces.

  “They can now.” Sinner starts removing the bindings from my arms. “We took a vote recently, and we’ve decided, in certain circumstances, to allow some women to join The Sainthood.”

  “Why would you agree to that?” Theo asks, risking his ire by speaking up.

  “Because we’re coming under a lot of heat from the authorities. Our contacts on the inside can only help so much. Initiating women into the membership means we will have a new layer of members to support us. Cops won’t suspect the women.”

  “You want women to do your dirty work for you,” I say, as he frees my arms.

  Bending down, he unties the rope at my feet. “Exactly.” He yanks me up off the chair. “And in your case, your obvious skill set could be an asset.”

  “I won’t do it.” I cross my arms.

  “You will.”

  “No, I fucking won’t.” I stand my ground.

  He grabs my face, digging his nails into my cheek. “I will beat that stubborn streak out of you.”

  “You can try,” I retort.

  His eyes darken as his lips curve up at the corners.

  “You won’t kill my mother,” I blurt, knowing this will be his new threat.
No one fights this hard to win back their childhood sweetheart to turn around and shoot her dead.

  I wrestle against his hold as he drags me toward the table.

  He cranks out a laugh. “I would put a bullet in Giana’s skull in a flash,” he admits, proving there is a fine line between love and hate. “But that won’t keep you in line.” He lifts me up, throwing me over his shoulder and slapping my ass. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Saint seething. “So, I’ll keep her alive,” Sinner continues, as I wriggle and pummel my fists on his back. He slaps my ass even harder, and I bite down on my lip.

  “For every act of disobedience, I will take it out on your mother.” He slams my butt down on the table, and his fingers move to the zipper on my hoodie. I try to swat his hands away, and he lashes out, slapping me in the face again. “I will beat her. Cut her. Drug her. Fuck her till she bleeds from every orifice. Pimp her out.”

  It’s not the first time he’s threatened to use Mom to keep me in line.

  He strips my hoodie off me, eyeing the Kevlar vest and my weapons belt with an amused smile. It’s one I’ve seen on Saint countless times, and I hate they have that in common, because every time Saint looks at me like that, all I see is his murdering bastard of a father.

  “So what?” I say. “It’s no secret I hate her now.”

  He grabs my neck in his meaty palm, yanking my head back. “So callous. So ungrateful.” He sneers, and it’s not hard to see how much he loves gaining the upper hand.

  Not for long asshole.

  I don’t know how, but I’m going to make him pay.

  I regret not taking him out on the field. I should’ve riddled the monster with bullets and taken my chances.

  “The only reason she’s with me is a feeble attempt to protect you.”

  “What?” I splutter. “You’re lying.”

  “Am I?” He smirks, removing the Kevlar vest and the gun belt and forcing me to lie down on my stomach.

  My brain churns a hundred miles an hour as I try to make sense of this.

  Does Mom have her own plan? Is marrying the enemy, and keeping him close, the best way to protect me? Or is Sinner just fucking with my head?

  I don’t know who to trust anymore. I can’t figure out who is a friend and who is a foe.

  Sinner uses my own knife to rip my tank top up the middle, leaving me in my bra.

  I know what’s coming, and I squeeze my eyes shut, hating that everything Dad fought to stop happening is going to happen anyway.

  Sinner pulls my yoga pants down a little, exposing the top of my black thong and the full extent of my back tattoo.

  “Your father really thought of everything, didn’t he?” Sinner says, running his fingers up and down my spine. I shudder as strong repulsion washes over me. “If I didn’t hate everything about him, I might feel some grudging respect.”

  “Dad, what’s going on?” Saint asks.

  “Come here, son.”

  I close my eyes as Sinner runs his hand along my lower back, his fingers brushing the curve of my ass. “If you’d stopped to examine her ink when you were fucking her, you might’ve noticed,” he says.

  “What the…” Saint’s voice trails off as I feel his fingers probe the place where the fiery logo is inked on my skin.

  “What is it?” Caz inquires.

  “The initiation tattoo,” Saint says in a clipped tone. “Harlow has the same tattoo we have.”

  Every time I’ve seen it on their lower backs, it served as a reminder, and I’ve wanted to throw up. I successfully blocked it out, but now, there’s no avoiding it.

  “What the fuck?” Theo says, and I know he’s cursing himself for not seeing this when we were together. To be fair, the tattoo artist Dad hired to cover my entire back did a fantastic job and you would only notice it if you were looking for it, because the flames surrounding my avenging angel disguise it well. Still, anytime the Saints came close to my back, I freaked out at the thought they might see it.

  I’ve always known it means I belong to them.

  But I never understood why Sinner did it. Despite his explanation, I still don’t. He was the one who insisted on it. He was the one who held me down while the man etched it on my skin.

  I knew this day would come, and I’d hoped to be long gone by then, but I’ve run out of time. And I’m all out of options.

  Sinner lifts me up, planting my feet on the ground. The other board members ogle my chest in my sports bra, but that’s the least of my concerns. Saint stares at me as if he hardly knows me. And I suppose, in a lot of ways, he doesn’t.

  Sinner shoves my hoodie and belt at me, groping my breasts in the process, before thrusting me at Saint. “Harlow is to be one of you. She will receive full training and undergo initiation. You will bring her to the training facility immediately.”

  “What will you tell her mom?” Saint asks in a voice devoid of emotion.

  “I’ll handle Giana. Just do it.”

  Saint nods as Caz helps me into the hoodie, avoiding eye contact. I strap the gun belt around my waist, showing no emotion on my face.

  Sinner would love me to break down.

  To scream and protest.

  To grant him an excuse to hurt me.

  But I won’t give him the satisfaction.

  Saint grabs my wrist, preparing to walk off, when Sinner clamps a hand down on his arm. “Don’t even think about crossing me.”

  Saint snarls. “You honestly think I want anything to do with the lying bitch now?” He glares at me in the way he used to at the start. “She’s dead to me.”

  Sinner scrutinizes his son’s face. “Go. I’ll meet you back at the house later.”

  No one speaks as we exit the basement, walk across the warehouse floor, and climb into Saint’s Land Rover. Caz’s Mitsubishi is missing, and I figure Galen must have taken off in it. Saint taps out a message on his cell before fitting it into the holder on the dash. Music blares from the car speakers, making talking impossible, but I’m not even sure what I’d say.

  The tension is terrible in the car, and I know we all feel it. This whole scenario seems inevitable and a little anticlimactic, and that makes me nervous.

  We drive for ten minutes, and I sit up straighter in the passenger seat as Saint pulls into the entrance of Prestwick Forest. Is the training facility in here?

  Saint parks in the gravelly parking lot, cutting the engine. No one speaks, and I grow tired of the awkward atmosphere. “Someone, say something.” My gaze jumps between them. “Anything. Even if it’s you hate me.”

  “Lo.” Saint leans across the console, taking my face in his and smashing his lips down on mine in a surprising move. He ravishes my mouth, kissing me like he’s afraid he might never get to do it again.

  I barely hear the other vehicle pulling up alongside us because I’m so consumed in his kiss. He pours it all out, letting his lips do the talking.

  “What was that?” I ask when we break apart.

  “This is fucked up, babe.” A muscle pops in his jaw. “He can’t get his hands on you.”

  Things slot into place. They’re not taking me to the training facility. They’re taking me someplace else. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Someplace safe,” he replies.

  I grab onto his arm. “You heard him. He will kill you if you cross him.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Caz says, poking his head through the gap between the front two seats.

  “We’re not letting him do this to you,” Theo adds, determination transparent in his tone and his face.

  “You’re one of us,” Saint says, grabbing the back of my neck and planting a hard kiss on my mouth. “And we protect our own,” he confirms when he rips his lips from mine. He climbs out of the car, rounds the front, and opens my door.

  “Stay safe, princess,” Caz says, tilting my face and leaning forward to press a forceful kiss to my lips. His tongue swirls around my mouth, and I sigh against his lips. When we break apart, he rests his forehead agai
nst mine before sitting back in his seat.

  “We’ll see you soon,” Theo says, planting a tender kiss on my cheek. It’s a genuine, concerned gesture that gives me so many feels. As he conveys silent promises with his eyes, I swallow over the messy lump in my throat, not properly understanding why they would go against their president for me but grateful they are.

  Galen gets out of the Mitsubishi, eyeing me with suspicion. “What’s going on?”

  I slide out of Saint’s car.

  “I need you to take Harlow to the safehouse out by Grenlow.”

  “Why the fuck are we taking her anywhere?” he demands.

  “There isn’t time to explain,” Saint says, opening the passenger door of Caz’s ride and ushering me inside. “Just protect her until we get there. I’m counting on you.”

  Galen stares at his cousin as if he’s insane. Then, he slowly shakes his head, walking back around to the driver side and getting in.

  Saint crouches down before me, taking my hands. “We’re going to grab some shit from the house. I’ll get some of your things, and then, we’ll follow you up there. Galen will keep you safe.”

  I wish it was anyone but Galen I was going with, but Saint calls the shots, and he knows what he’s doing. I need to place my trust in him because I don’t have many options right now. “Okay.”

  “Give me your cell,” Saint commands, and I hand it over. He smashes it with his foot until it resembles nothing more than scraps of metal and glass. There wasn’t time to save the footage from the field to the cloud, so the recording is lost to me now. “I’ll bring you a burner,” he adds before nodding at Galen and walking off.

  Galen starts up the car, backing out as we watch Saint get into his Land Rover.

  We don’t speak, but that suits me fine, because the waves of hostility rolling off Galen aren’t comforting. I lean my head against the window, closing my eyes but not falling asleep, because I need to keep my wits about me.

  When we pull into the gas station on the outskirts of Prestwick a short while later, I sit up straighter, my head whipping to Galen as prickles of apprehension skate across my skin. I reach for my gun, but cold metal presses into my temple.