“We’ve got to go,” I say, repocketing my phone.
“What is it?” Lo asks as Theo gently lifts her off his lap.
I lower my voice so none of the others hear. “Taylor’s been found. The guys are holding her for us.”
For the first time all day, the veil of sadness lifts from Lo. Her jaw tenses as her eyes glimmer with determination. “Let’s do this.” She grabs Theo’s hands. “It’s time to take that bitch down.”
CHAPTER 3
Harlow
WE PULL UP to an enclosed property in Prestwick, and Saint kills the lights as we approach the high iron gate. Putting the engine in park, he extracts his cell and taps out a message.
“Why aren’t we going to the warehouse at Landing’s Lane?” I ask, because I was told it was their main interrogation place, and I presumed that was where we were headed.
“It’s too open after the fight,” Saint shares as the gates creak open. He puts the car into gear, and we move forward. “That place is retired now.”
I don’t say another word as we drive over the bumpy road toward the large brick warehouse in the near distance. I know The Sainthood has a number of secret warehouses scattered about and that all the locations are a heavily guarded secret.
Saint drives his Land Rover around the back of the structure, parking it to the right of the door. Theo helps me out of the car, pressing a kiss to my temple when he puts my feet on the ground. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him to me, needing his familiar smell and the feel of his toned body against mine, to ground me.
Today has been one of the worst days of my life, and it’s not over yet. The few beers I inhaled back at Sariah’s house have taken the edge off my heightened emotions, but I’m still tense, still feeling out of sorts, grappling with the multitude of emotions flooding my system as I struggle to deal with the loss of my best friend. I’m trying to numb myself to feeling, but it’s not as easy as it used to be, because I’m no longer desensitized.
Opening my heart to the guys has lowered my resistance, and I’m feeling far too much. I can’t function like this, and I desperately need to lose myself in my guys to remember who I am. To remind myself why life has to go on even though I will never forget the bubbly blonde who brightened up my world in so many ways.
Sar would hate to see me like this, and I owe it to her to live my best life, but it’s all too raw.
I guess this is what true grieving feels like. I’ve never let myself go there before, and a pang of guilt surges through me as the thought lands in my mind. I’m feeling more today than I did the day of my dad’s funeral, and it makes me feel like I let him down. Like I should have let it in more, because Dad meant the world to me, and it feels wrong now that I was so closed off to my emotions that day.
Theo hugs me to him, and I cling to his warmth and his comfort like he’s my favorite blanket. “You’re going to be okay, beautiful,” he whispers, threading his fingers in my hair. “We will be with you every step of the way.”
“I hate feeling like this,” I whisper, conscious the other guys have stalled by the door, waiting for us. “It feels like I’m losing myself.”
He places his mouth on mine, kissing me sweetly before pulling back and clasping both sides of my face. “We will never let that happen. We’ll never let you forget.” He kisses me again. “I love you, Lo.” He presses his forehead to mine. “And I’m never letting you go. Never.”
“I love you too,” I murmur, gripping his toned waist. “I love all of you,” I admit out loud for the first time.
“Have you told them?” he asks, easing his head back from mine.
“Not yet, but I will.” My own sense of mortality is screaming at me. I came so fucking close to death, and I’m not out of the woods yet. If my time should come, I want to leave this world with no regrets and I want my guys to know how much they mean to me.
I shuck out of Theo’s embrace, pushing those sentiments aside for the time being. We are here to teach this bitch a lesson, and it can’t wait.
Saint nods as I approach with Theo at my side, and I return the gesture. The guys have scarcely taken their eyes off me all day. I see the concern in their eyes, and it warms all the frozen parts of me, but I need to remind them—and me—that I’m not some broken shell of a girl.
I’m Harlow fucking Westbrook.
Survivor.
Queen.
Some two-bit ho isn’t getting the better of me.
We step into the warehouse, and it’s a lot like the one at Landing’s Lane. This level is empty save for a few bikes parked haphazardly in one corner and a couple long tables at the far end. A few crates rest on top of the tables, and an unfamiliar guy with a bushy gray beard and an overhanging belly slouches against the wall, smoking a cigarette. Saint and Galen head in his direction, and he straightens up, tossing his cig to the floor, stomping on it with his dirty boot.
“Who found the bitch?” I ask.
“One of our snitches,” Caz confirms. “She put up one hell of a fight, and it took three of them to get her into the van.”
Pulling up the side of my dress, I unstrap my Strider from its sheath, enjoying the feel of the cool blade under the palm of my hand. “It will only require one of me to take her down,” I say, flashing Caz a steely grin.
“You don’t have to do this,” Theo says.
I lock eyes with him. “I know. But I want to.”
His features soften, and I see nothing but love and concern shining in his eyes, but this shit ends now. “I’m not going to break, guys. I’m stronger than this. Today’s been hell, but I’m not some fragile little doll you need to handle with kid gloves.”
“We know that, babe,” Caz says.
“Then stop looking at me like I’m about to fall apart!” I snap. “It’s fucking insulting.”
He chuckles. “Sharpen those claws, princess, and channel them in the right direction.”
I flip my blade over and over in my hand, keeping one eye on Saint and Galen as they talk to the dude with the beard. “I don’t need a pep talk. I know exactly where to channel my rage.”
Sounds of approaching footfalls end our conversation.
“Let’s go,” Saint says, walking past us toward the other end of the building.
“You hanging in there?” I ask Galen, falling back to walk alongside him. Truth is, the guy looks like shit. We have similar injuries, but his are more serious, and he was already nursing a few broken ribs before the explosion. Sweat plasters his flattened hair to his brow, and his eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot. He’s bent over as he walks, his shoulder supported in a sling, and he’s holding his upper torso with his free arm, as if he’s holding himself together.
“I’m okay. Took a couple pills back at the house, so the pain is easing up. I just want to get this over and done with so we can crash at the barn.”
“Amen to that.”
“How do you want to play this?” he asks, as we step through the single door, following the guys down a flight of stairs to the basement level.
“We inflict pain to get the answers we need, and then we gut the bitch.”
A muscle clenches in his jaw as he nods. “I’m down with that plan.”
The others are waiting at the bottom of the stairs in front of the closed door. “This is your show,” Saint says. “But if you aren’t up to it, just say the word.”
“We’re up for it,” I hiss, unfairly taking my pissy mood out on him. “And you can all quit with the babying.” I push past them with Caz’s deep chuckle following me as I yank the door open and enter the basement.
Lights are low down here, and the space is largely empty except for a few chairs, a long steel gurney, and a table that houses a myriad of weapons and instruments of torture. Another older guy, with a neater, shorter beard, wearing one of The Sainthood’s leather cuts, stands guard at the side of the room.
I stalk across the concrete floor, eyes blazing as I glare at the petite blonde strapped to the chair in the
middle of the room. Taylor’s hands are tied behind her back around the chair, and her ankles are securely fastened to the legs of the chair. A trickle of blood seeps from a gash on her forehead, and there’s dried blood on a cut on her lip. Her long hair hangs in stringy, matted strands around her heart-shaped face as she tips her chin up to glare at me. Her nostrils flare, and her eyes burn with hatred as I approach.
Lifting my leg, I ram it into her stomach, pushing her to the floor with a loud thud.
Not gonna lie, that maneuver has me sweating bullets as pain rips across my torso, my body protesting the motion. But fury trumps pain, and I straddle her chest, locking my hands around her neck and squeezing. I don’t want to kill her, at least not yet, but I do want to set the tone for this meeting.
“Fucking…slut,” she rasps, her eyes burning a hole in my head as she glares at me.
I tighten my hands around her throat, digging my nails into her flesh and drawing blood. “You’re not in any position to throw shade,” I say, smiling as tears leak involuntarily from her eyes and a bluish tinge appears on her skin. A gargled sound erupts from her throat, and I remove my hands from her neck before I accidentally kill her. This bitch isn’t dying before we get to the truth.
Caz extends his arm, and I take his hand, letting him help me to my feet.
Saint grabs a fistful of Taylor’s hair, yanking her off the floor. She screams in pain as he uses her hair to pull her body, and the chair, into an upright position. When he lets go, long strands of her hair are wrapped around his fingers. He wipes his hands like they’re diseased, until all the hairs are gone, and I smirk.
Galen and I stand in front of her with the others at our back. “Here’s how it’s going to go.” I flip my knife repeatedly in my palm. “We’re going to ask you questions, and you’re going to answer. If you refuse, I’ll cut you. If you continue disobeying, I’ll kill you.” I lean down into her face, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in my ribs. “Trust me, it won’t take much to push me there.”
She spits in my face, and I slap her hard a few times on each cheek, relishing the way her head whips back. I step aside, taking the tissue Theo offers me, using it to wipe her disgusting spittle from my face. “You’re already trying my patience, and that doesn’t bode well for you.”
“Like I give a crap, whore!”
I punch her square on the nose this time, and she roars as blood gushes from her nostrils.
“I’m guessing you give a crap about your little sister, so, unless you want her to join your other sister in the ground, I suggest you lose the attitude and get with the program.”
“Don’t you fucking touch her, you cunt!”
“That’s it,” Saint snaps, pushing past me. “I’ve had enough of her disrespect.”
He grabs her chin, forcing her head back at an awkward angle. “You talk to our girl like that one more time and I’ll cut your cunt into tiny pieces and feed it to you one piece at a time.”
“Come on, Taylor. I thought you were smarter than this,” Galen says, shaking his head in disgust.
Saint glares at her one final time before dropping her chin.
“I’ll tell you what you want to know if you promise you won’t touch my sister,” she spits out. “She’s innocent in all this.”
“Agreed,” I say, because I had no intention of doing anything to her sister. “But if you double-cross us, all bets are off.”
She nods, and her eyes betray her resignation. Perhaps she is smart.
“Who ordered the hit on us?” I ask, leaning against Saint when he presses up against my back.
Her lips curve into a smug grin. “No one. I did that all by myself.”
Galen scoffs, rolling his eyes. “We heard you were smart, but you’re as dumb as a bag of hammers.”
“I’m telling the truth,” she yells. “I came after you for Parker.” She drills me with a poisonous look. “You killed my sister, and I wanted revenge.”
“She tried to kill me first, and it was self-defense.”
“I don’t fucking care! It wasn’t enough to kill her. You had to set her on fire and try to frame The Bulls for her murder. Do you have any idea what that did to my father?”
“Do we look like we give two shits about your father?” Galen coolly replies.
“And if you think we’re buying this bullshit, you’re sorely mistaken.” I purposely look over at Theo. “Pull up the girl’s location. I think we’ll be paying little sis a visit after all.”
“No!” Taylor shrieks, panic entering her tone. “I swear I did this alone.”
I lean down into her face. “Liar,” I hiss.
She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut for a split second. “Look, it was me and my dad, okay? The club had nothing to do with it.”
“So, Ruben wasn’t coming after me because I killed Luke McKenzie?” I probe.
“Yes. He wanted you dead for that, and that stupid asshole Corr was supposed to take care of you at the training facility, but that was before Ruben was arrested and the club came under new leadership. The order went out that you weren’t to be touched, forcing us to take matters into our own hands.”
My eyes meet Galen’s as I try to work out if she’s telling us the truth or not. His gaze suggests he’s as suspicious as I am.
“If you wanted revenge for your sister’s murder, why target the guys?” I ask.
“They weren’t innocent either. They used Parker’s intel to burn the drug house down, and then they tossed her aside like she hadn’t helped them.”
“Parker was a conniving cunt who was playing every angle,” Galen says. “She turned up at the fight on the losing side. That was her choice, not ours.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter!” she shouts, nostrils flaring again. The chair screeches as she squirms on the seat, her arms straining in obvious pain. “You dragged her into this mess in the first place.”
“Wrong, bitch.” Caz grabs her by the throat. “That honor was Finn’s. He used her as his lackey. He was the one who put her in harm’s way. Your anger is misplaced.”
“Don’t worry. I was gunning for him next.”
“You know where he is?”
She shakes her head. “Pussy took off with his number two. Dad’s trying to find them, but so far, they’re hiding under a rock.”
She reached the same conclusion we did that Finn and Brooklyn took off because they know they have fucked up and made enemies on all sides.
“Were you behind the shootout at the diner?” I ask, moving on to the next topic.
“Yes, but I should’ve just done it myself. Those assholes couldn’t do anything right.”
“You were at the party at Galen’s during spring break,” I continue. “Why?”
“Ruben asked me to broker an arrangement between The Arrows and The Bulls.”
“So, Tempest was the conduit?”
She laughs. “Oh, please. That trailer-trash dumb bitch couldn’t fucking sell oil to the Arabs. She helped me get close to Darrow Knight, and that’s about as useful as she was.”
A throbbing pain in my temples has me swaying a little on my feet, and Saint slides his arm around me, keeping me steady.
Taylor laughs. “Having trouble standing, Harlow?”
Galen darts forward, slapping her viciously. A flash of pain races across his face, and I know that cost him. “You’re lucky you’re still breathing, cunt. Don’t push your luck.”
She spits out a mouthful of blood, sending daggers in all our directions. “I’ve answered your questions. Now let me go.”
We burst out laughing, angering her further. She hisses, narrowing her eyes, and the chair wobbles as she struggles against her restraints to no avail.
I slip out of Saint’s hold, putting my face all up in hers. “Who the fuck said anything about letting you go? The deal was we wouldn’t go after your little sister, and we’ll stick to our word.”
“Just kill me already then,” she snaps. “Put a bullet in my skull and be done with it.”
>
That had been the original plan, but now I’m rethinking things. I straighten up, smoothing a hand down over my hair. “Nah.” I shake my head. “There’s no fun in that.” Honestly, if I wasn’t so dead on my feet, I would gladly stay here and torture the bitch for a couple hours, but I’m barely keeping my eyes open, and Galen is about to conk out, so we’ll have to put it on ice.
“You!” I click my fingers at the guy hanging by the wall. He’s been watching the whole thing go down, but he hasn’t interfered, letting us handle our shit, like a good little soldier.
He walks to my side. “Ms. Tamlin needs to be reminded why the Saints are not to be messed with. Be creative in relaying the message, but I want her alive.” I grin maliciously at her. “We’ll be back to finish up in the morning.”
The bearded dude infuriates me when he casts a glance over my shoulder, looking to Saint to rubber stamp my decision.
My asshole doesn’t let me down though, storming over to the guy, grabbing him by the throat and shoving him into the wall. We walk toward them. “Did my girl not speak clearly enough?” Saint’s eyes rip through the older dude, and he shoves him a couple more times before letting him go.
“Understood, Saint, and it’ll be handled.”
“Don’t tell me,” Saint snaps, cracking his knuckles like he’d love to ram his fist in the jerk’s face. “Tell Harlow.”
“And while you’re at it,” Galen adds, coming up on my other side. “You can apologize for disrespecting her.”
“I’m sorry, Harlow,” the guy says, his cheeks reddening in anger. “You can trust me to carry out your command.”
Taylor laughs, claiming our attention. “Da fuck? You must have some magical pussy, slut. This shit has to be seen to be believed.”
Caz punches her in the face. “What the fuck were you told about spouting that shit?”
But she doesn’t respond, because she’s out cold, and we exit the warehouse, all of us more than ready to head home.
CHAPTER 4
“WHAT DO WE do with her?” Theo asks, when we reach the guy’s barn a half hour later. Someone switched the heating on while we were en route, and it’s toasty warm as we trudge inside. We are all beat and ready to hit the sack.
The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series) Page 58
