Page 75 of Soulless Saint

There was only so much that could be done with brute force and pure rage.

I slammed the passenger door shut and followed Kaleb to the rear entrance, the smell of cherry cigars wafting in his wake as he pounded twice on the black painted metal.

The door swung open and music flooded out into the private parking area.

Kaleb flicked the only half smoked cigar into the sand bucket against the wall and slid past the security guard, following the long, narrow corridor toward the main stadium. My skin bristled as the music rushed over me in a wave, the undercurrent of animated excitement from the crowds further ahead setting my teeth on edge.

I fucking hated crowds.

Loathed being boxed in and brushed against by total strangers, any of which could be carrying a weapon. Could be trying to slide greedy fingers into your pockets. I kept my jacket on despite the heat in the building, planning to park myself firmly near the back bar that ran along the back of the concert hall. It was set on an incline, up a handful of stairs from the main floor, and would give me a view of the majority of the area.

From there I’d be able to watch Kaleb. Make sure the girls who would inevitably brush up on him, grinding their asses into his groin as they flashed barely covered tits in front of his eyes, only wanted to fuck him. If I’d learned anything from Ma and watching Ava Jade rise to become an influential member of the Saints, it was that chicks were not to be dismissed.

They could just as easily gut you as any man could. The difference? They’d have your guts on the floor before you even knew it was coming.

Kaleb went straight for the bar, shouting to order a drink from the bartender with a raised arm. His shirt pulled up, putting his piece on full display where he still had it tucked in the back of his waistband. I rolled my eyes, stepping behind him to conceal my movements in the dark as I tugged it free.

He whirled on me, ready to pummel whoever touched his gun, giving me an annoyed look with a held out hand when he saw it was me.

I shook my head.

He could have it back after the show. We didn’t need everyone in here losing their damn minds if someone saw it. While everyone else in attendance needed to go through front security, walking through metal detectors, we were not in the same category.

But that didn’t mean we had to fucking flaunt it. What if someone got the cheeky idea to grab it from him while he was busy with some pair of tits?

Nah. He knew the damn rules. At these kinds of things our pieces needed to be properly concealed, which was why mine was securely strapped just above my ankle. Along with no less than three other concealed weapons in the forms of my favorite switchblade, the pocket knife Dad gifted me a few years back, and a boning knife on my other ankle because you just never knew when you might need to break down a body.

I had a feeling in my gut it might become one of those nights. Hoped to fuck I was wrong.

Kaleb rolled his eyes at me but didn’t fight it, taking his drink from the bartender without paying and shouldering past me to find a good spot on the floor. I clenched my teeth hard, checking to make sure the safety was still on his Sig before sliding it into the front of my waistband and pulling my shirt over it. No risk of anyone touching that shit if I stayed right the fuck where I was.

“Drink?” The bartender hollered over the music, cupping his ear for my reply. I shook my head, taking up a bank of three bar stools since it seemed no one wanted to get any closer to me than that.

I watched Kaleb’s head bob as he sliced a path through the steadily growing mass of fans gathered on the floor, keeping track of his movements in case I needed to get to him quickly.

I didn’t know what exactly his problem was, but I could guess. With each table we turned in search of the Sons, finding nothing, he grew more irritable. But something told me it was more to do with what that meant for him and his pursuit of Becca Hart than anything else.

The longer it took to deal with this, the longer he’d have to stay away from her.

But my little brother had surprised me this week. Exhausted or not, he hadn’t brought a single pair of legs home to fuck since I heard about the yoga studio. Specifically what the entire campus was saying they’d done in the showers there.

That familiar heat rushed through my core, and I parted my lips to let out the steam, my brows knotting as I watched Kaleb drink his whiskey Coke. Alternating between putting it to his lips and lifting it high in the air above his head to prevent it from spilling as the crowd jostled him from all sides. Each one vying to get closer to the stage as the lights there dimmed to nothing, signaling the start of the show.

I leaned back against the bar, threading my fingers together as I settled in to watch.

Black lighting hidden in the rafters above the stage ignited, giving the black abyss on stage an ultraviolet hue.

The crowd cheered, screaming their hearts out as a spec of white appeared in the dark, growing as Corvus James walked slowly to the front of the stage. His white skull makeup glowed bright beneath the lights, giving him a menacing quality.

Even though for the first couple years the makeup served its purpose of keeping his true identity hidden from everyone who came to see his shows, he’d kept it going even now. When everyone had stopped speculating online whether he was a serial killer or a foreign prince or an escaped inmate.

Ava Jade came out of the shadows behind him, her matching skeleton makeup lighting up in the pitch dark to a raucous barrage of even louder cheering.

Primal Ethos had already been great, but her addition only made them even better, rocketing them from their status as underground indie into stardom. They hit one of the spots on some top ten list last month. But unlike the others on the list, PE didn’t bend or shift to make their music more to market, trying to reach even higher.

No.

If anything they went darker, more violent. Openly lyricizing about meticulously planned executions, the words lost on anyone who didn’t know what they did for a living.