Sinner digs his nails into my upper arm as he walks me through a set of glass doors at the rear of the lobby area and into a small conference room. “There,” he barks, pointing at a chair in the middle of the floor. It’s facing a row of chairs at the top of the room where the board members are waiting for me. Six assholes stare at me with blatant interest, and bile rises up my throat. Some of them I recognize from the basement in the warehouse and a couple from the engagement party at my house.
“Spread your legs and arms out,” Sinner commands.
Acid lines the walls of my stomach, but I do as he says, biting on the inside of my mouth as he enthusiastically pats me down. A few guffaws ring out at the top of the room as Sinner cups my pussy through my pants and fondles my breasts through my shirt.
“You can have this back after,” he says, removing my iPhone from my pocket. He checks the screen and eyeballs me, most likely wondering why I didn’t have it set to record. “Sit,” he barks, pushing me back on the seat.
He joins his despicable buddies, sinking into the empty chair in the middle of the line, leaning back, and gloating like the cat that got the cream.
“You’ve done us proud this week, Harlow. We’ve watched all your tapes, and your skill set is impressive.”
I rest my hands on my lap, steadying my nerves and keeping a neutral expression on my face as I stare into the eyes of the devil. “Thank you for the opportunity. I’ve enjoyed it.”
Sinner shares a grin with the man beside him, and I fight a shudder. The man has a shaved head, ink halfway up his face, and a dark, menacing look in his eyes that freaks me out like the first time I saw him in the basement. He tied me to the chair that time, his leering gaze upon me the entire time. “Your marksman skills at the warehouse didn’t go unnoticed either.” Sinner leans forward, pressing his arms on his knees. “I had plans for you, Lo, but this has exceeded our wildest dreams.”
He gets up, eliminating the space between us, crouching down in front of me. “You remind me of your mother,” he says, and that can’t be anything good. “But an enhanced version. With all the qualities I wish she had.” He runs his fingers along my cheek, and adrenaline pumps through my veins.
I want to throat punch him, kick him in the junk, and light cigarettes on his naked flesh before slashing at his chest, cutting into flesh and bone, and leaving him to bleed out on the floor.
But revenge takes time.
And I’m sowing the seeds.
So, I bite back my distaste and swallow the retorts begging to let loose on my tongue.
“I’m glad to see you’re cooperating.” He lowers his fingers to my neck, glancing at my chain, and I hold my breath. “This will work to both our advantages,” he says, raising his eyes to my face, “if you don’t fight me.” His fingers brush against my chest, and I force bile back down my throat.
“What tasks are being set for me?” I ask, working hard to hide the disgust and fear from my face and my tone.
Sinner leans in, rubbing his nose along my neck, inhaling my scent, and a low growl escapes his throat, prickling the hairs on the back of my neck.
My heart pounds, and my palms turn sweaty, and the urge to flee is riding me hard, but I grip the edge of the chair, reminding myself of the endgame. Despite my bravado, he senses my unease, and a devilish grin spreads across his mouth as he kisses my cheek. My skin crawls like a thousand fire ants just dug their way into my flesh, and I need a scorching hot shower to remove all trace of his saliva and his touch from my skin.
He walks back to his seat, and I relax a smidgeon.
“We have three important jobs for you.” He flashes me a wide grin. “Pass these, and I will induct you into the senior chapter along with the other junior chapter members upon high school graduation.”
I nod. “I understand.”
“While we have made progress into Lowell, controlling the supply chain in the public school and taking charge on the streets, the private academy remains a stumbling block. You will work with my son and his crew to rectify that.”
“I can do that.” Lowell Academy is my old school, and while I left under a cloud, this task shouldn’t be too difficult to pull off with the guys’ help. The girls will cream their panties when I rock up with The Sainthood, and I doubt it’ll take much to convince anyone to buy from them. Look how easily they wiped the board with Finn at Lowell High.
“You will attend Sainthood HQ once a month, on a day of our choosing, to manage some tasks for myself and the other board members.”
I’m guessing those tasks involve dropping to my knees and getting on all fours. My blood turns to ice at the thought of those assholes with their hands on me, and it won’t happen, but arguing the point will feed their sick perversion, so I nod, smiling, pretending I’m naïve. Sinner won’t buy it, but I’m not sure how much the others know about me.
“Of course.” I nod, and Sinner almost glows.
“The third is more delicate, but it will prove your loyalty is with us.”
His eyes turn cold, and isn’t that the sign of a true psychopath? That he can flip the switch so easily?
“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of the consequences should you fail to deliver. As much as I love my fiancée, her comfort and her survival are in your hands. I will punish you and your mother if you displease me.” The veins in his neck bulge as he knots his hands in front of him. “Deceive me, and I’ll stab those boys you love through the heart without blinking.”
Panic shuttles through me, and I’m losing the hold on my tenuous emotions. Potent fear slithers through my veins, and I’m on the verge of throwing up.
“What is the last task?” I ask, pleased my voice sounds level even though I’m shaking inside.
“You will kill Police Commissioner Leydon.”
CHAPTER 15
Harlow
THE MEETING CONCLUDES with Sinner telling me he’ll provide more details on the commissioner’s execution in due course and he’ll message me when I’m being summoned to HQ. Then, he escorts me out of the room.
Shouting and screaming greet our ears, growing louder when we enter the lobby. John is in a pool of blood on the floor, and Saint and Galen are taking turns kicking the shit out of him. Guess the cat’s out of the bag. I never should’ve mentioned Bry because Saint must’ve gone straight to him and demanded answers.
“Do I want to know?” Sinner drawls, patting me on the ass before pushing me away. He’s getting far too handsy for my liking. I lean against the desk, keeping quiet as I wait to see how this pans out.
“You should stick around,” Saint says, as the side door opens with a slam and Caz and Theo emerge, dragging Instructor Corr with them.
“You won’t get away with this,” he shouts. “I’m a respected staff member and a long-standing member of The Sainthood.”
“Then, you should know better,” Saint says, punching him in the face. “I warned you to leave her alone.”
Sinner leans against the other side of the reception desk, crossing his ankles. He winks at the pretty receptionist, the same one who greeted me the day I arrived. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Her cheeks flush, and from the way she’s eye fucking him, I know she’s screwed him. Probably recently, too. I knew that bastard wasn’t faithful to Mom, and who knows what venereal diseases he’s carrying. I should warn her, but I’m sure she knows exactly what kind of asshole her fiancé is.
“Women have no place in our world,” the instructor says, appealing to Sinner with his eyes. “They are lower-class citizens for a reason, only good for sucking dick and spreading their legs.”
Saint punches him in the face again, and blood spurts from his nose, spraying across Saint’s white T-shirt. Saint looks down, scowling.
“Times are changing.” Sinner loses the smirk, stepping toward him. “And every member needs to get behind our new philosophy.”
“Of course!” Instructor Corr is sweating bullets now. “It was part of the strategy,” he blurts, grasping a
t straws. “To toughen her up.” His wild eyes dart around the men in the room. “She needs to have balls of steel to take a place beside The Sainthood men.”
Even when arguing—with his survival hanging in the balance—he still comes off like a misogynist jerk.
And every smart man knows pussy beats balls every day of the week.
Caz and Theo tighten their hold on his arms as Saint punches him in the gut. “Lo has more balls than most guys I know. Like fuck, she needs toughening up.” He punches him again, and the guy’s knees buckle.
Galen drops another kick to the asshole writhing and crying on the floor while holding his ribs and clenching his jaw. I know he’s on strong meds, but he must be in pain. He should sit this one out, but I guess he’s keen to prove his loyalty. “Well, shit for brains. You ready to fess up?” he snarls.
“Okay. Okay.” John blubbers, snot leaking from his nose, and I shudder. Ugh. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“Well, duh.” I roll my eyes.
“My brother said—”
“Shut your mouth, John,” the instructor hisses.
“They’ll kill me!” John cries. “And this is all your fault!”
What a sniveling, pathetic idiot. I don’t know why I tried to save him from this fate.
“It was The Bulls!” John shouts. “They made us do it. That slut he’s fucking is connected to them.” He jabs his finger in his brother’s direction as I trade a look with Saint.
How did The Bulls even know I’d be here? And is there no end to their reach? I hate to say it, but I think the Saints have completely underestimated The Bulls.
“I had no choice,” the instructor pleads as Sinner’s eyes darken with rage. “And I didn’t kill her like they asked,” he adds, as if that will buy him any favors.
A shrill pop resonates around the room, and the receptionist screams, dropping to her knees behind the desk. Sinner’s arm is extended, his gun pressed flushed to Instructor Corr’s forehead, a hole in the center of Corr’s brow where the bullet went through.
Holy fucking shit.
I wet my dry lips, sharing another look with Saint.
Sinner does not mess around.
Can’t say I’m surprised.
He’s an unpredictable psycho.
John roars, watching with horror as the guys let go of his brother and his lifeless body falls to the floor with a resounding thud.
Sinner places his gun on top of the counter, leaning over the edge. “Get up, you stupid bitch.” The woman stands on wobbly legs, tears streaming down her face. “How long have you worked here?” he asks, and I guess there wasn’t time for small talk when he was fucking her.
“Three weeks,” she whispers.
Warm fingers wrap around mine, and I look up into Galen’s green eyes. He pulls me away, shoving me behind him just as Sinner grabs the gun and he pumps three bullets in the receptionist’s chest. She slumps to the ground, blood oozing out of her wounds, her eyes unmoving, confirming she’s dead.
John’s screams ring out around the room, because he is just that stupid, and Sinner aims his gun in his direction.
“Wait.” Saint’s lethal tone bounces off the walls. “He might know something.”
The glass doors at the rear of the space open, and two of the board members enter the lobby. “We heard shots,” the creepy dude with the bald head and face ink says. “I’ll call a cleanup crew,” he adds, spotting the two dead bodies on the ground.
Sinner stabs Saint with a look. “Find out what he knows, then dispose of him.” He glances out the front window. “Not here.”
Saint nods as Caz and Bry lift a whimpering John off the floor. They move toward the side door, and Galen tugs me forward, his fingers still linked through mine. Warmth seeps into my bones, snaking up my arm, and I clasp his hand tighter before I snap out of it, remembering I’m holding hands with a traitor. Yanking my hand from his, I push forward, putting some distance between us, as I follow the three guys out into the corridor.
We end up in the inspection room, where they toss John to the floor. Saint removes my Strider from its holder, handing it to me. “You want to do the honors?”
“Gladly.” I run the tip of my finger gently along the pointed end, delighted to have my weapon back in my hands. I’ve felt naked without it.
I straddle the asshole on the floor and lean down, pressing my knife to his throat. “Start talking, gnat. And please don’t piss your pants because I’d hate to cut your dick off.”
“That’s all I know,” he blurts, more snot flying from his nose.
I rear back, thoroughly repulsed. “You are so gross.” I press my knife into his neck, nicking him.
His lip trembles. “Ask Taylor. She’s the one he was screwing.”
“Last name, asshole,” Saint asks, kicking him in the side.
“Tamlin. Her name is Taylor Tamlin.”
Bry curses, and we all turn to him. “You know her?” I ask.
“She’s the blonde I was with at the party,” he explains, looking me directly in the face. I remember her—she was gloating over what went down between Dar and me until Bry shoved her off his lap to chase me. “I’d no idea she had ties to The Bulls.”
“Perhaps, she was the link who brought The Bulls and The Arrows together,” Theo says, and he’s already tapping away on his cell.
“Who is she?” Saint’s gaze bounces between John and Bry.
“I know nothing about her,” Bry says, “except she’s a lousy lay.” He glances at John. “Your brother had shit taste in women.” He eyeballs Saint. “I can ask around. See who brought her to the party. Find out if Dar knows her.”
“Be discreet,” Saint warns.
“I am not a moron.” Bry narrows his eyes to slits.
“Debatable,” Galen pipes up.
“Focus!” I snap, pressing the knife to John’s throat again. “Tell us everything you know about her.”
“My brother was fucking her behind his wife’s back, and the kill request came through her, but that is all I know. You’ll have to ask her.”
“This is a waste of time,” Caz says, lighting up a cigarette. “You so fluke, man.” He grins widely.
“Dude, no.” Theo shakes his head, and I laugh.
“Trending today?” I guess, and Caz nods. “I want in on this,” I add.
“It could be a competition,” he replies, his eyes lighting up.
I get up, done with the douche on the floor. “I’m game.” I waggle my brows. “Starting from tomorrow.”
“Fuck my life.” Saint groans, shaking his head as he presses his booted foot under John’s chin, keeping him down on the floor. “Take princess to the car.” He pulls out a gun, and his expression turns serious.
“Hell no.” I tuck my knife in the back pocket of my jeans as Caz and Galen aid Saint in keeping John on the floor. Caz rips the bottom of John’s shirt, stuffing his mouth with the torn strip, muffling his shouts and cries. “I’m going nowhere.” I challenge Saint with my eyes, and he stares right through me. But his intimidation tactics don’t work on me anymore. I prod my finger in his chest. “I’m one of you now. I won’t be shielded.”
“Very well.” He holds my gaze for another few seconds before swinging his eyes in John’s direction. “Don’t bother saying a prayer, motherfucker.” He points the gun at his head. “Because prayers don’t work when your destination is hell.” He pulls the trigger, pumping two rounds into his skull, and John dies instantly.
Saint cleans his gun, wiping it down, before tucking it into the back of his jeans. He looks at Galen. “Instruct the cleanup crew to take care of him.” Galen nods before exiting the room.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Grabbing my hand, Saint pulls me toward the door, and we get the hell out of Dodge.
_______________
“Are we going to your place?” I inquire after I’ve finished filling them in on my week. I’m waiting until we get back to tell them about my initiation tasks because shit will hit
the fan when they find out what the psycho expects me to do.
“Nah,” Caz puffs on a cigarette while I rest my head on his shoulder. Saint is driving, Galen is beside him in the passenger seat, and Theo is on the other side of me, nose buried in his tablet. “Not with dickhead Eccleston in tow.”
Bry is driving behind us. Saint wants to hear about his initiation tasks, too. And he probably wants to rub his nose in it about me a little more.
“We’re going back to the house,” Saint confirms. “The oldies are out, doing menu tastings or some shit.”
I sit up straighter, leaning my head through the gap in the front seats. “What’s been happening since I’ve been gone?” Mom texted me a few times, but we haven’t spoken.
Awkward silence filters into the air.
“What is it? Is Mom all right?”
Caz sighs, and Theo finally puts his tablet down, scooting forward to the edge of the seat. “She’s okay,” Theo confirms. “But the dynamic has shifted in their relationship.”
“Meaning what exactly?”
“He’s pushing her around a bit,” Saint says. “When she told him the wedding was off, he threatened her.” His eyes drill into mine through the mirror. “And you.”
I slump back in the seat, air whooshing out of my mouth. “Fuck.” I rub at my temples, still feeling so conflicted over the woman who gave me life.
“We won’t let him hurt her or you,” Saint says.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I hiss.
“Don’t fucking push me, princess,” Saint snarls. “No one is hurting either of you on our watch, and that is one promise I fully intend to keep.”
CHAPTER 16
Harlow
“NICE PAD,” BRY says, looking around as we walk through the house and downstairs to the basement.
“Thanks. Mom’s anal about the house. She never stops decorating.”
“This is a world away from where I grew up.”
“Save your sob story for someone who cares,” Saint says, stopping in the middle of the two couches and folding his arms. “Sit.” He jerks his head toward the couch on the left. I flop down beside Bry, and Saint glares at me. “You.” He jabs his finger at me. “Over there.” He points at the opposite couch.
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