Page 55 of Soulless Saint

I sipped the golden liquid, letting it mellow in my mouth, burning out the taste of the cherry cigar I had after dinner before swallowing it. “Oh, that girl.”

“Yeah. That girl. Sounds like more than a lay. That’s not like you.”

He was doing a shit job of pretending to be not all that interested when in fact, I knew that he’d give me grandma’s old wedding ring in a heartbeat if it meant I’d stop sticking my dick in anything with a decent pair of tits.

The man thought I didn’t have standards. Fuck that. I had standards, and I was careful to always use a condom. Well, except for my afternoon delight with Becca yesterday. I wasn’t an idiot. I wasn’t about to get some bitch pregnant or wind up with an STD.

And lately, my standards had only gotten higher.

I’d hit my peak and now no other pair of tits would ever measure up.

Hardin slammed the pantry shut and stomped out to the garage with Ma, his body coiled like a viper. Good thing Ma knew how to charm that snake, or I’d worry for her immediate safety.

This house was one of the only places I rarely saw Hardin get angry, and a good deal of that had to do with Ma. Her presence just… released him somehow.

But not right now.

“I don’t know what she is,” I admitted. “But I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Do I know her?”

I pursed my lips, shaking my head. “Don’t think so. She’s new here. Moved up from Thorn Valley.”

“What?” Dad snapped, his easy tone dropped in an instant. I twisted to meet his stare, finding him pale faced. A vein protruding in his temple.

“Dad?”

“Who is she?” he demanded, setting his scotch down with a hard knock on the counter. Cocking his head at me. “What’s her name?”

My brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Her name, Kaleb.” He closed the gap between us, all but barking in my face even though I had an entire head on him sitting up high on the counter like I was.

“Christ, okay,” I hissed, leaning back from the spittle that was no doubt about to start flying from his feral mouth. “Her name’s Rebecca. Rebecca Hart. She’s that girl that’s friends with Ava Jade. The one who got—”

“I know who she is,” Dad sneered, his upper lip curling as he stepped back, throwing a hand through his hair.

“You do?”

Stupid question. Of course he did. He went up there to check on Diesel and his shit with the Aces right around the time Becca was shot. I was sure he heard about it. But why was he so damn upset?

Why did it matter if I was seeing her?

Fuck.

Seeing her?

What, was I about to go fucking steady now?

Jesus.

“Yeah, I know her,” Dad said, his voice sounding far away. He muttered something I didn’t catch under his breath before he managed to smooth out the sharp lines in his face. “And you’ll stay away from her, do you hear me?”

“What? Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why,” he snapped, pointing toward me with two ringed fingers. “You stay away from that girl. That’s an order.”

“But Dad—”

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