Saint: A Dark Romance (Saint and Sinners Book 1) Page 4

  “Sinjin.”

  “Sinjin.” I rolled it around on my tongue. Decided I liked it. “I thought my name was unique.”

  “It’s a nickname.”

  “What’s it short for?”

  “An old and ill-matched name.”

  I waited for more, lifting my brows as a hint, and was gifted with his mirroring my “And?” expression.

  I laughed. “All right. Fine. Don’t tell me.”

  “The chocolate was a good touch, Bunny.” He tucked the bottle under his arm and scooped up some more.

  “The name is Adeline,” I corrected. “They are yummy. A pot of steaming chamomile tea would be perfect with this.”

  “I’m picking up your hint, but I don’t have time to take you for tea right now. We’ll have to hook up later.”

  Heat blossomed in my cheeks. “I wasn’t dropping a hint,” I cried.

  “Sure you weren’t.” He swooped in quicker than I could blink and kissed my cheek. “I’ve got business, so meet me back here in... about two hours? You can drizzle all the chocolate you want on me then.”

  My jaw fell open, preventing a response as he boldly claimed another cookie and walked out of the kitchen.

  “Rich people,” I muttered.

  I caught my fingers tracing the ghost of his kiss and ripped away. I was not meeting this blue-haired devil in two hours or at all. I was doing my job, collecting my money, making sure Raiden and Hazel knew who upgraded their appetizers, and then taking my ass home. Despite what Corinne said, I did not need a stranger to screw away my stress.

  I should toss him Gianna’s way. I grabbed another bottle to replace the wine. Though if all of Raiden’s friends are like him, she’s having no trouble finding someone to commemorate the night.

  Carrying my trays, I abandoned the safety of the kitchen. There was even more people packed into the space than when I arrived.

  A group of women danced near an expensive-looking statue by the front door. One look at me and they descended, clearing my tray of every drop of alcohol. I offered the salmon, got wrinkled noses in response, and continued on.

  The penthouse boasted a sunken living room that did little to contain the guests. I weaved around the bodies, darting through a hole when one appeared, and watched my treats disappear as I sought the middle of the action.

  Bodies parted and the arm of the couch peeked through. I edged around a particularly amorous couple. The two were making out like starving hyenas. The guy had her skirt pushed up so far, no one had to guess what his hand was doing between her legs.

  She lifted one up for better access and kicked me square on the hip. I gritted my teeth.

  I need this job. I need this job. I need this job.

  Pushing through, I escaped the crush and fell on the chair. I anticipated a coffee table and the slight barrier around it. This was my spot until my food was gone.

  I turned my back to the furniture and landed on the group sitting on the couch. Three guys huddled over a slim pair of legs ending in green spiky heels. One of the guys twisted his neck to laugh with his friend, revealing the young woman underneath them.

  Her eyelids fluttered as her head fell on his shoulder. The man on her left tilted her chin forward, holding her steady as he put the tumbler to her lips and made her drink.

  My tray crashed to the floor. “What the fuck are you three doing?!”

  They jumped like the guilty pieces of trash they were. “What? Nothing,” one cried. “Who are you?”

  Shoving him aside, I bent down in front of the barely conscious woman. “Hey, are you okay?” I patted her cheek and she dropped her head forward. Out.

  “Get me water,” I ordered.

  “Fuck off and pick up that tray, bitch. I don’t—”

  I whacked him upside the head. “I’ll show you bitch, boy!” I shouted into his wide eyes. “Get me some water now!”

  He tipped over, landing on his friend who hauled him up. The three of them ran off—maybe to fetch the water or maybe not. All that mattered was those shits were away from her.

  “Lady? Are you—”

  Her eyes snapped open. I shot out of the way as she doubled over, spewing her stomach’s contents on the rug.

  “Okay. Time to go.” Draping her arm around my shoulder, I dove into the throng of people. The tips of her heels skimmed over the carpet. She put all her weight on me, forehead tucked under my chin, but lucid enough to hold tight to my neck.

  I picked up the pace, veering down the opposite hallway from the kitchen. Double doors peeked between the wall and another statue. I tried the handle.

  Locked. I had to get her into a bathroom before she was sick again. Where the hell is it?

  This hall had one more set of doors for me. I crossed to the end and twisted the knob. The door swung open, revealing a bedroom.

  Her stranglehold constricted.

  Moving fast, I carried her past the bed and raced to the bathroom. I positioned her head over the toilet just as she heaved.

  “You’ll be okay,” I said over her retching. “Get it all out.”

  The bathroom we forced ourselves into was Hazel and Raiden’s. Double sinks loaded down with matching colognes, gels, razors, and on the other side, perfume, makeup, and contact solution. My entire apartment could have fit in this bathroom. The whole of my room would’ve sat square into the jetted bathtub with space left over.

  I wandered over to the sinks and began opening the cabinets. Gotta be something I can use... There.

  Nestled under Hazel’s sink next to the spare toilet paper, was a stack of rinse cups. I filled up one with water and brought it to my new friend.

  “Here. Drink this.”

  She knocked my hand aside, spilling the water on my shoes.

  “Nice,” I muttered. Going back, I filled it up again and got it into her hand. “Drink, please. When you’re feeling better, I’ll get security to help you home.”

  It took some more gentle prodding but finally she swallowed the mouthful. I made her drink more until I was satisfied.

  “Good. Now, let’s go.”

  The muted sounds of the party turned up to maximum, pouring in as someone came into the room. Must be Raiden or Hazel. I’ll tell them I was helping out their friend. They can’t fire me for that.

  “—a conversation.”

  Wait.

  “You know what this is about.”

  Sinjin? What’s he doing here?

  I poked around the wood, and immediately grabbed the door, swinging it shut as I ducked down. Through the crack in the frame, the electric-blue Adonis strode into the bedroom carrying the pilfered bottle. Behind him, three men dragged in a guy I recognized on sight.

  Raiden Spencer.

  “I have no idea what this is about!” Raiden thrashed in their grip. “Get the fuck off me!”

  “Stop all that bleating, Spencer,” said one of his captors. He looked down at him with such distaste, I felt his revulsion like it was my own. “No one can hear you.”

  It was a terrible look on such a sculpted face. Jaw hard enough to split a rock set in stone. Golden eyes burned through Raiden’s bravado, and the man ripped him out of the other guys’ hold and threw him at the foot of the settee.

  I crouched low on the frame, narrowing the crack to a sliver. My spot gave me a clear view of the door, the settee, the entry to their walk-in closet, and part of the bed. The backs of the four men faced me as they bore on Raiden. Sinjin’s hair couldn’t hide him from me, and one of the other men carried a black backpack. Otherwise, only Raiden I could see clearly.

  What was going on? What did Sinjin want with Raiden?

  Why am I hiding in here? I need to get out.

  I twisted. My unnamed companion had closed the toilet lid and rested her head on it. She was out cold.

  “Stupid bastards. It was a mistake to come here.” Seeking through the crack once more, I saw Raiden scour their towering figures, lips peeled back from those gleaming, white teeth. “You’re not makin
g it out alive.”

  “Who’s going to stop us?” A voice smooth and savory like melting butter tickled up my spine. One of the guys jumped on Raiden’s bed, crossing one leg over the over, getting comfortable. I saw only a wisp of crow-black hair as he passed. “Your security is busy making sure none of your friends rip the symphony from your pretty girl’s neck. No one will look for you until it’s much too late, my friend.”

  Goose bumps rippled down my skin. I need to get out of here now.

  My knees locked—feet rooted to the spot. My instincts screamed that I had stumbled into something bad. They screamed it almost as loudly as the knowledge that it would cost those four men no effort at all to catch me as I fled to the door and throw me down next to Raiden.

  “Funny you should mention the symphony,” Sinjin said, “because that’s exactly what we came to chat about.”

  “Wh— What about it?” Raiden edged away, his retreat blocked by the couch. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? Fine. It’s yours.” He threw out his hands. “Take it! Will that settle this? Are we good?”

  The men fell silent. I don’t know why that had been the wrong thing to say, but I sensed it was all the same.

  “Are we good?” Sinjin crouched before him. “You think we’re here for that gaudy trinket?” He laughed. “Like I couldn’t have taken it myself any time I wanted? Like the lovely Hazel wouldn’t have happily slid it off her neck and put it in my hand while her mouth thanked my dick for the pleasure? I’m fucking Sinjin Bellisario! Since when do I need your permission to take what I want?!”

  He smashed his fist in his jaw. I clapped my hand over my mouth to pen my cry.

  “How could you do this, Spencer?” he asked over Raiden’s groaning. “Insult me to my face? I thought we had a mutual respect. Businessman to businessman.”

  The hard-jawed, golden-haired man actually patted Sinjin on the back like he needed comforting.

  “I almost wish the symphony could settle our business, but you know we’ve gone beyond that now.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Raiden cried. “I swear, Sinjin. Whatever this is, we can work this out.”

  “Whatever this is?” Sinjin looked up at the blond guy. “Cash, will you lay it out for our friend here?”

  “What this is,” Cash began, “is you tracking us down through Memphis for a jewelry store job. Buying your lady love’s affections with diamonds seemed like a good idea when she refused to let you lock her down, but you’re over it now. Your money is better spent on pussy you can’t get for free.”

  Cash knelt next to Sinjin. It was hard to make out Raiden between them.

  “Everyone knows Old Jimmy’s shop is a front for his real business,” Cash continued. “The guy keeps a stash of jewels waiting to fence when the heat dies down. Everyone also knows, he works for the Kings.

  “We told you we wouldn’t take that job. Going after Jimmy would kick off a war that we might win, but we’d lose a shitload of our guys trying. The Kings aren’t a gang you take on without a strategy, stockpile, and a contingency for your contingencies. They’re for fuck sure not guys you piss off because some spoiled, rich prick wants to cheat his old lady.”

  “But you didn’t like hearing no, did you?” That deep timbre spoke up—cool and relaxed as he reclined on the man’s bed. “Decided you’d hire a bunch of guys, put them in our masks, and get the same result.”

  “Our masks?” I whispered. “Jewelry store?”

  These guys... Sinjin... They’re the Merchants?

  “No. No!” I saw him toss his head through the crack in their bodies. “You have it all wrong. Someone else framed you. Someone who knew about the job. Memphis!” he burst out. “I bet that shit saw his chance and took it.”

  “Really?” asked Cash. “Because I’m betting you saw your chance and assumed your overpaid guards would protect you from us for the short time we have left on this earth. The Kings will come after us now. They lost millions in that hit, and they’re not about to take that lying down. They’ll hunt, torture, and kill every member of our crew. Cinco City will bathe in our blood, and for the next decade, no one will dare wear a face mask, even if it’s for a cold.

  “You get what you want, and the Kings handle the rest. The plan should have been foolproof,” he said. “But your staff takes bribes.”

  “And we didn’t have to pay them that much,” Sinjin stage-whispered. “Your ass really is cheap.”

  “It’s not true! I had nothing to do with the robbery. I’m telling you someone is setting us both up.”

  Sinjin got to his feet, bottle dangling from his fingers. “Someone is playing a game, Spencer. That much is true. We keep our circle tight. Only do jobs for those we’ve vetted, and our contacts know not to pass our names up for something like this. Knocking over a Kings’ front doesn’t factor into our immediate plans.

  “We’re working behind the scenes. Laying the foundation for big moves that will one day see the Kings whimpering pups at our feet, and the Merchants running Cinco City.” Sinjin inclined his head. “But that day is not today. Someone put you in contact with us who shouldn’t have. Did they also tell you to frame the Merchants if we refused?”

  “It wasn’t me,” Raiden roared.

  “We’re making someone nervous,” said the man on the bed, ignoring Raiden. “Someone who knows more than they should, or doesn’t want to risk that we do.”

  It was then I realized the guy with the backpack had yet to utter a word. He stood silent and immobile as though observing a scene he wasn’t a part of.

  “That someone wants the Kings to take us out,” Cash added. “You’re going to tell us who that someone is, Spencer.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Raiden pushed himself up. Blood cut macabre lines down his face, aiding the flames in his eyes.

  Raiden Spencer was handsome, wealthy, charitable, and my stepping stone to an enviable culinary career. And if what Sinjin said was true, he was a liar, cheat, thief, and the catalyst of a gang war that would claim more lives than just the Merchants.

  I can’t just sit here and let this happen. My heart thumped audibly in my ears. All too soon they would hear it.

  They would find me.

  They haven’t done anything to Raiden, another voice said. One punch in exchange for framing and painting a target over their heads isn’t as bad as he could get. Besides, in all the news reports of the Merchants, there’s never been a murder. They’re not killers and they likely won’t become them here with a party full of people on the other side of the door. If I sit tight—if we both keep our heads, we’ll make it out of this room.

  My pulse slowed. Breaths evened out.

  Everything would be okay.

  “—played for fools,” Raiden was saying. “I don’t have the diamonds.”

  “Who put you up to this, Spencer?” Cash asked calmly.

  “It wasn’t me.”

  “Who gave you my name?”

  “Memphis. I said I needed a job done and he told me he knew just the guys.”

  “Liar,” Sinjin sang.

  “I’m not lying!”

  “You approached Memphis with my name in your mouth,” Cash said. “That you’re lying about it proves we were right about you.”

  “Fuck you,” Raiden spat. “It’s Memphis you want. Turns out you can’t trust your precious contacts.”

  “I can trust Memphis.”

  He chuckled. “You think so?”

  “Yes. He’s my cousin.”

  “He— He’s what?” From across the room, I watched the color bleach from Raiden’s face.

  “I ask for the final time,” Sinjin said. “Who put you up to this?”

  Raiden didn’t speak. His cleft jaw was starkly pronounced under clenched teeth.

  “I see.” Sinjin bowed, flourishing his hands. “Brutal, I defer to you.”

  “Brutal?” Raiden snorted. “Oh, very scary, but I’m done with this shit. And you know what, yeah, I hired tho
se guys to do the job you pussies were too scared to do.” He waved his hands. “The infamous Merchants. No one knows who they are or where they’ll strike. So terrifying until you find out they’re just a bunch of clowns in masks, shitting their pants in face of the Kings.”

  As he spoke, the man revealed as Brutal slid his backpack off his shoulder.

  The frame dug lines in my skin. Flattened my nose. I had stopped breathing long ago.

  “Get out,” Raiden bellowed. “You’re jokes! I give you a week before the Kings cut you off at the punchline.”

  Shut up, Raiden, you fucking fool! Why don’t you see how far you’ll have to go to get to that door?

  A cold sweat slicked my back. Brutal had pulled something from his bag. As he unfolded it, the crinkle of plastic undercut Raiden’s carrying-on. He smoothed it out on the carpet, still not having uttered a word.

  “Is that for you? Lie down on it, cunts,” Spencer ordered.

  Brutal reached into his bag again. He turned and I missed what he took out.

  “I’ll have my guys take out the trash when the party’s over.” He shoved past Sinjin. “The next job I make those boys do in your masks, I’ll have them paint ‘fuck you, Kings’ on the—”

  Sinjin struck, smashing the bottle across his back in a shower of wine and glass. Raiden staggered into Brutal’s waiting grip.

  He threw him down on the plastic with such force, the floor rumbled beneath me. Raiden had no chance to recover. Brutal raised a now gloved fist and sunk it in his gut.

  I shot out of sight. My nails dug furrows in the shell of my ears as the pleading started.

  Everyone knows the theatrical movie sound effect of a fist striking flesh. Heightened so the audience knows, feels, and hears each strike. The reality of witnessing a beating was nothing like that.

  There was no “pow,” “boom,” “crunch.” You couldn’t hear anything like that over the poor soul screaming and begging for it to stop.

  “Okay, okay! No more!” Raiden cried.

  “What was that? More?” Sinjin asked. “Alright, Brutal. Give him more.”

  “No! No, please—”

  Pow.

  Boom.

  Crunch.

  “Stop! I’ll... t-tell you. Please, stop.”