Saint: A Dark Romance (Saint and Sinners Book 1) Read online

  “What kind of steps?” I asked.

  “If it was me,” Sinjin said, “I’d move the auction and the girls. If you ever came back, it’d be to an empty hole. Assuming you survived the hit I put out on you.”

  A fist clenched in my chest. “Corbin’s going to move them? Kaylee told us everything she knew about the hotel. It was the only place she was brought to. If he moves them and disappears, we’ll have nothing.”

  “I said that’s what I’d do,” Saint replied. “As tight as the Kings are, information gets out. This didn’t. Corbin’s kept a close lid on this. Twice weekly dates with Candy and she didn’t know. It’s a good bet Angelo doesn’t either. Packing up the operation and moving would tip his hand.”

  “He’d have to explain why or risk the higher-ups taking a closer looking into his activities,” I finished. “A sociopathic child peddler that’s addicted to money wouldn’t chance it.”

  “There’s no gain on him putting a hit on you either,” Cash added. “Corbin doesn’t give a shit about Bryan Acker, and the Kings don’t need the world knowing a one-hundred-and-fifteen-pound woman in heels beat their guy with a toilet seat.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Then, what steps is he taking?”

  “More guards. More guns. No one in or out that he doesn’t know. The back door Kaylee escaped through was jammed by cinderblocks. Our men have staked it out over the past few days. The blocks were replaced with a metal bar and two guys pretending to look casual while they pace in front of it.”

  My head bobbed slowly as I gazed at Kaylee laughing and playing with the children. “I get it, Cash. The time for costumes, aliases, and slipping in unnoticed is over. The only way to get to Corbin... is to attack.”

  “Also known as Plan B,” Saint said. “Full-frontal assault. Open season on the Kings and their businesses. War in the streets, Bunny.” He swooped on me, stealing a devastating, ravaging kiss that plumbed the depths of my mouth and pulled a moan from me like I didn’t know where I was. “Personally,” he said, “I preferred Plan B from the start.”

  “Except the small, but significant issue that I projected one or more of us will die before this is over,” Cash said, matter of fact. “Ninety nine point nine percent probability.”

  “Die?” I recovered from the effects of the kiss quickly. “You can’t know—”

  “Outgunned, outmanned, and fighting on their turf. It’s near enough to a certainty, Redgrave. We can win, but we all won’t live to share the spoils.”

  My jaw clenched. Nostrils flared sucking in short, rapid breaths. I trusted Cash’s projections like I did my common sense. Of course, we couldn’t enter a war with the toughest gang in Cinco and come out unscathed. My anger and fear wasn’t for me.

  I narrowed on each man in turn. “What’s in this for you? The night you killed Spencer, you said you were ‘laying the foundation for big moves that will one day see the Kings whimpering pups at our feet, and the Merchants running Cinco City.’ You have your sights set higher than the Kings, but I’m supposed to believe you’re willing to die before they’re reached?”

  Cash spun on me, pulling me up short. “What are you trying to say, Redgrave?” he hissed. “Out with it.”

  “What’s the double play? The Merchants plan to rule the city, not die in some underground shithole. I want those girls back. I’ll do anything to save them,” I shouted. “Even if it means I die. Will you? What if we break in there and Corbin hands you Plan C wrapped in a pretty bow? You leave him to his business and he helps you bring down Angelo. Would you take it?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No,” Cash barked.

  Mercer’s stare was unblinking. The easy grin had vanished. “No.”

  Sinjin just looked at me, expression saying it all. Then Brutal— Baris gripped Cash’s shoulder, moving him to the side.

  “No.”

  That almost inaudible whisper—said to gift my ears only—broke me. My anger leaked out, leaving me the tired, stressed-out mess I was.

  “Why is this important to you?” I asked. This time without accusation.

  “We told Spencer that night and we’ll tell you,” Sinjin said. “We will rule this city. The sex.” He pointed to Mercer.

  “The fight clubs.” Brutal.

  “The money.” Cash.

  “And all the rest.” Sinjin spread out his hands. “Cinco is mine, and it will exist under our law. The most important being that no one who fucks with kids should expect a long-life expectancy. None of our men will be in that racket. Seeing as every gang in the near future will report to us or be put down, they might as well learn that lesson now.”

  “I agree.” I cupped his cheek. “Under our law, Cinco will change.”

  “OVER HERE.”

  Cash motioned to a trailer bordering the fence of the fairground. Saint drew ahead, climbed the stairs, and let himself in.

  These were the people who had a hand rearing Sinjin Bellisario. I glanced down at the girl holding my hand. “Are you nervous?”

  “A little,” she said. “But I like Nova, Dawson, and Jude. They said if I stay, we’ll be cousins. I never had cousins.”

  “They said that?”

  Twisting, I fell on the kids Cash told her to play with. They were running and skipping behind us, going along for the ride.

  “They’re homeschooled,” she said. “Every day they get to be here with the animals and shows and games. Nova is already learning to fly like the acrobats.”

  “Sounds like every kid’s dream. Ready to meet Margot and Troy?”

  She steeled herself. Chin lifted and shoulders squared. “I’m ready.”

  Voices floated out of the trailer. “... boys been? Would it kill you to call more?”

  “It’s been a hectic time at work,” I heard Cash say.

  “Must be if lost little ones are falling in your lap. Where is she?”

  “She’s here,” I spoke up. Together, we stepped inside the trailer.

  The only word I could use to describe it was quaint. Photos in big, clunky frames covered the walls. We walked in on them in the kitchen/dining area. The kitchen space was small, and yet they managed to blanket it with green. Plants hung from the ceiling, sending winding tendrils from their pots. Handmade, knitted chair covers decorated the seats, and sitting on them was an older blond couple.

  The man who had to be Troy carried his rugged looks and full head of hair into middle age. His eyes crystal blue and lined with wrinkles. He stroked a beard more silver than blond, nodding at Kaylee.

  “Hello.”

  Margot’s long, waist-length hair bled darker than her husband’s. She wrapped herself in a shawl matching the color and style of the chair covers, looking like a cozy extension of her home.

  First impression not so bad.

  “This is Kaylee Trevino,” I said.

  Kaylee burrowed her face in my side, suddenly shy.

  “None of that.” Margot bent at the waist, smiling as she drew her away from me. “No need to be afraid of a couple of old carnies.” Traces of a European accent laced her speech. “Especially when they have cookies. How about we sit down, have a snack, and get to know each other? That sound all right?”

  “Okay.”

  Margot straightened to guide her to the table and I got a proper look at her.

  “Oh my— Mrs. Margot, are you...?” Golden-brown eyes blinked at me. “Killian’s mother?”

  She laughed. “Last time I checked.”

  “You raised Sinjin?”

  “Caught the little waif under the bleachers pickpocketing the audience,” Troy said. “Fourteen years old and scored about eight hundred dollars before we nabbed him.”

  I goggled at Sinjin and Cash—both standing there eating cookies like it was nothing. “You enjoy this, don’t you? First Baris and now a parent trap.”

  “Excuse me?” Margot looked to her boys. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Mom,” Cash said.

 
“Absolutely nothing,” I agreed, following her and Kaylee to the cookies. “I have so much to ask you. What was Killian like as—”

  “No.” Cash put me over his shoulder. “We’ll give you space,” he told his parents. “Take a few hours. We’ll check in before we go.”

  “Go on, dear,” Margot said. “We’ll be just fine.”

  Cash carried me outside.

  “Uncle Killian! Uncle Sinjin!” Dawson, Nova, and Jude ran at us. “I wanna play. Pick me up too.”

  “Uncle,” I said into his back. “You have siblings too?”

  “Five. Not including Sinjin.”

  “Unbelievable. Where are they? I’m meeting them.”

  “You already did. At the acrobats show, cotton candy stand, the unicyclist, and two of the tightrope walkers. That’s all the introduction you need.”

  The kids, the colors, the carnival, the family reunion I didn’t know I walked into, and Kaylee telling us she wished to stay felt like fate’s gift before the storm. As the sun set on the empty fairgrounds, I hugged Kaylee tight, whispering promises we’d talk every day and I would visit her wherever she was.

  “Will you guys visit too?” she asked.

  “Won’t have to,” said Sinjin. “You’ll come to me. Merriman Circus rolls through Cinco four times a year.”

  Kaylee threw her arms around him. “Bye, Saint. I’ll miss you.”

  The others got the same goodbye.

  Kaylee came back to me, pressing her cheek to mine, and said, “Thanks for coming for me.”

  “I will again if you need me.” I placed a new cellphone in her hand. “Remember what I said.”

  She looked in my eyes. Small. Young. Strong. “They can’t take what matters.”

  “No one can. Goodbye, Kaylee.”

  I cried on the walk through the grounds. For Kaylee. For me. For the girls out there who thought no one was coming.

  The guys walked silently at my side.

  “She’ll be happy, won’t she?”

  “Yes,” said Cash.

  “Were you?”

  “Yes.” He was a firm, towering presence amid the ghost of his childhood. “The man I became is a reflection on Sinjin, not Troy and Margot Hunt. He’s a terrible influence.”

  A snort escaped me unbidden. I laced my arms around his, dropping my head on his shoulder. Maybe the happy family he left behind still had their effect on him, because he let me. “Hard to disagree considering what I’m about to do.”

  I met Sinjin’s gaze. “Let’s take that bastard down.”

  THAT NIGHT, I KISSED Sinjin on the steps of the fire station.

  We had to come back. Change. Reload.

  “Know what to do?”

  “My role is pretty straightforward.”

  “Stick to the plan.” Sinjin’s hand was warm and heavy on my chest. “All of this...”

  He moved down. Cupping my breast. Tweaking the nipple through the fabric. Flattening against my stomach. Then gripping my thigh to draw me in.

  “... is mine. If you’re hurt, I will do something others regret.”

  I brushed my lips on his chin. Wetness was collecting in my middle. “Is that your way of saying be careful?”

  Sinjin kissed me again, got into his car, and drove off alone. Another layer of security. The Merchants arrived to jobs separately. They lead different teams of their men. They tried to take Sinjin in once. They wouldn’t show up as a group for the bags to be thrown over their heads in one go.

  Cash left. Mercer honked his way out. Brutal and I were left.

  He stood next to a silver Lexus. Spotless, of course. Brutal opened the door on my approach.

  “Are you being a gentleman, or do you not want my fingerprints on your ride, Baris?”

  We weren’t running late. Our destination was a bar two doors down from Paradise, where we’d wait for our clocks to strike one.

  I put my hands over his. “Can I say something?” I asked softly. “Can I say it because you won’t ask questions? Because you won’t interrupt and you won’t tell a soul? Can I say it because I’m selfish? I want you to share this burden in silence, because I can’t anymore.

  “Can I?” I rasped.

  He nodded.

  “My name is not Adeline.”

  His brows twitched. The barest reaction.

  “It is, but it wasn’t supposed to be. I was meant to be Madeline. After my grandmother. My mom was so high when she filled out the form, she forgot the M.” I laughed mirthlessly. “That should give some insight into where this story is going.”

  Lowering my head, I rested them on our hands. “My parents weren’t a couple. A random party, drugs, drinks, and an empty bed upstairs brought me into the world. This suited my mother. Dad had money, influence, and a sense of honor. The latter doesn’t always come with the first two. He was a baby daddy who’d set her up in style and pay child support on time.

  “We had a nice apartment in Harlow. A car. A checking account. And Mom could afford her habit without choosing between the drugs and feeding me. Everything was perfect for her until Dad lost his job. There was an accident at work, and his coworker and best friend was killed. Afterward, new management took over, fired every boss and supervisor, and hired new people.

  “Suddenly, there was no money for the nice apartment, car, and bottomless credit cards.” I paused, taking a deep breath, and caught a tear on my tongue. I hadn’t realized I was crying. “Dad got a job. He got three jobs. He killed himself trying to support me, and Gianna,” I said. “She was his best friend’s kid. He couldn’t abandon her when he knew Soren would’ve taken care of me if the roles were reversed.

  “But Mom didn’t like that,” I cried, rocking on my heels. “She’d shout at him that we were his priority, and if she didn’t get more money, she’d take away his visitation.

  “It wasn’t about his priorities, of course. It was about hers. She couldn’t hold down a job, and when the money dried up, she carried out her threat. Packed up and moved us in the middle of the night. She refused to let him near me. By that point, it was bad,” I whispered. “She had to choose between drugs and feeding me. Most times she chose wrong.

  “One day when I was ten, I heard her arguing with her dealer in the living room. I tuned them out. Headphones in and pillow over my head like I always did. Until my mattress dipped.”

  Brutal’s finger lifted. He glided down my wet cheek, spreading my tears.

  “From that day on, Mom realized she didn’t need money. She needed dealers who liked kids. It went on... for a while. When Dad tracked me down and found out what was happening, he took me away from her on the spot. We didn’t return to the apartment to get my things. Ever since, it’s been him and me. Looking out for each other.”

  I leaned on the metal, glass, and plastic separating us, wishing that I was leaning on him.

  “I can feel it, Baris.” If I couldn’t have him, I’d have his name. Strong and unique, caressing my tongue. “Their hands on me. Around my throat. Gripping my wrist. Pulling my hair. I feel what those men are doing to them, every second of every day that they’re out there. So, you don’t have to worry about me tonight. I won’t mess up, flinch, or hesitate. This is one fight I can’t lose.”

  Brutal crooked his finger under my chin. He said nothing—not with words or the special way he communicated.

  He kissed my forehead. Soft and light like the voice I longed to hear.

  Brutal drew back. I rose on tiptoe and captured his lips.

  I imagined their softness. Dreamt they were smooth and warm. My fantasies didn’t come close to the reality of kissing Baris Alexander.

  Salty tears mixed with his sweet, minty taste. He was stiff, not responding as I moved against him, and I feared I had taken too much.

  I stroked his cheek, indulging this opportunity knowing it would be my last. Brutal stopped the thought with a hand curling around the nape of my neck. I was drunk by the first swipe of his tongue demanding entrance. He came around the door and scooped
me up. We fell inside the car.

  My hands were everywhere. In his hair, running down his back, gripping his ass and bringing him closer still. I was heady with the danger of it. Brutal was to be seen, feared, lusted, and admired. He was not to be touched.

  I wrapped my legs around him, trapping him in my embrace. I’d have every inch of him until he made me stop. Though that seemed the last thing on his mind.

  He put my hands over my head, and slowly skated over my dips, curves, and bends. The only touch I felt on me then was his. He arrived at my breasts and traced the mounds. Pushing them together, Brutal bent and bit my nipple through the fabric.

  “Ahh.” My sudden, heated gasp escaped him. The next he tasted on my lips, kissing me and continuing his exploration lower.

  I was used to chatter during sex. Breath hot in my ear while a guy—Sinjin—described in graphic details the ways he’d turn my pussy out. Brutal’s silence prompted a quiet in me too. He slipped beneath my belt, tugging on my shirt. The bodysuit t-shirt wasn’t going anywhere. I could’ve said if my tongue would let me. I drank from his lips, making soft noises from the friction of his tugging.

  My jeans popped open.

  Brutal crouched on the ground between my legs. His lips were swollen and glistening. Hair tousled. Collar askew. I was having a stolen moment with Brutal’s alter ego. When he came back, we’d be in so much trouble.

  My pesky jeans were peeled off me almost sinfully. The obstruction was pushed aside and Brutal descended. His tongue swirled around my clit, teasing and tasting the helpless thing to render me quivering goo.

  “Yes, Baris.” Entwining in his hair, I held him firm, rocking my hips and bouncing pussy on his face. An act that lost me a table when I did it to Sinjin in the kitchen. This time, Brutal lost control. He bent my knees up to my head and plunged inside me. Head bobbing, he dipped in and out of my overflowing well hard and wild.

  My back cracked in half. Nails broke the leather. Cries fogged the windows. Foot banging on the dash, I snatched the door handle for leverage and popped it open. My head fell out of the car as the orgasm shredded my body. Upside down, I twisted and writhed, my muscles tightening and unwinding at once. The after echo of cries carried out into the busy street beyond the gates.