Page 29 of Secrets Unveiled

“That does sound nice, doesn’t it? Why don’t you come with me then?” Fuck, I hadn’t expected that answer. But before I can think of another response, or lie, Saint saves me.

“Hey, Sage, are you going to help me today with that install at the garage?” Mira and I turn to the laundry room door to see Saint leaning in with his hands resting on the door frame. After practically drooling at the bit of skin that shows from his shirt rising up, I turn to Mira.

“Oh, yeah. I promised I would help the guys finish an install on a bike they’re building. You know the guys don’t have a clue what they’re doing.” I nudge Mira, who laughs her deep belly laugh that always makes me smile.

“What would you boys do without my girl, huh?” Mira pats Saint’s chest before leaving the laundry room.

“If you need me to come back, sweetheart, please call me. I love you. Have fun showing those boys how it’s done!” I respond with a “love you” back, and Saint and I wait for the sound of the door closing as we hold each other’s stare. Then, when the door finally clicks closed, Saint pounces on me like an animal attacking his prey.

SAGE

The rest of the day, and well into the next day, Saint and I fuck on every surface of the house. His room, my room, the shower, the hot tub, the kitchen counter, he even had me bent over his bike before we made our way to the garage where the club members were waiting for us. Saxon had returned that morning and told us we need to be at the garage for a club meeting. Well, Saint had to be present at the meeting. I was told to man the office. Yay me.

As the boys, or men, rather, handle their meeting, I choose this time to finally respond to Dante, who had texted me now almost twenty-four hours ago. I pull up his text and reread his message.

Dante:

I’m so sorry for springing that painting on you. Your friend briefly explained your concerns. I can’t apologize enough. I hope I can make it up to you.

Me:

I’m sorry I’m just now responding. Please don’t apologize. You didn’t know. Your painting is beautiful, and I’m happy about how your event turned out.

It doesn’t take long for the three bubbles to pop up, indicating he is typing a response.

Dante:

How about a redo, and I make it up to you? Tomorrow night for dinner at the Pink Flamingo. Let’s say 7?

Fuck. What am I supposed to do? Do I want to go on a date with Dante? It’s not like Saint and I are exclusive, we never could be.

You’re so fucking perfect, Sage, and you’re all mine.

Clearly, Saint has already staked his claim, and his words replay on a loop in my brain. But how would he and I ever work? Our situation is far from normal. We have to sneak around, plus I am lying to Mira now, and it makes me feel insanely guilty. We wouldn’t be able to go on dates, be seen in public. Fuck, we can’t even hold hands without the fear of being caught. I want so badly to have the chance to go on a date with Saint and explore whatever this is between us without having to hide.

I set my phone on the desk, not responding right away, when another text pops up on my screen. Rubbing my hands down my face, I pick up my phone and see another text from Dante.

Dante:

I’m so sorry to do this so quickly, but could we move that date to two days from now?

That’s weird. I wonder why he’d change it so quickly? I decide to agree to the date just so I have the opportunity to let him down gently. He deserves that much, rather than a text saying I’m not interested.

Me:

Yes, that sounds great. Tuesday night it is. I hope everything is, ok?

I don’t want to flat out ask him, but I can’t help the curiosity that grows in my stomach. Call me nosy, but, well, yeah, I guess I am nosy. The three dots display on my screen again before his message pops up, and I am not prepared to read what he sends.

Dante:

I don’t want to lie to you, Sage. My friend has been missing since Sunday, and I’m afraid they just found his body on the outskirts of town. You met him at the club the night we met. His name was Damien Devonte. We are having his service Monday.

My legs start moving before I can even comprehend what Dante had just texted me. Damien, his friend from the club. Damien, the man that was once at the bottom of a quarry. Damien, the man Saxon and Saint admitted to killing. What the fuck is going on? I make it to the room in the back of the garage where the meeting is still proceeding, but I can’t wait. Pushing through the doors, all eyes instantly turn towards me.

“I need to talk to you and Saint immediately. It’s an emergency.” I train my eyes on Saxon, who now glares at me with so much anger, but also a hint of concern. His curiosity wins because he then dismisses everyone, leaving only him, Saint, and myself.

“This had better be good.” Saxon gestures his hand to a chair beside him, but I have so much energy swirling in my gut, I can’t sit down. Matter of fact, I can’t even be still. Pacing back and forth, I go through the text messages between Dante and me in quick succession. When I finally drop the last bombshell of a text message, I don’t miss the tick in Saxon’s jaw as he processes this information. While he battles the silent war in his head, his eyes narrow on me. His silvery irises look as if they’ve grown three shades darker. He doesn’t say anything, but the anger bubbling in his chest, or at least it looks like anger, is on the precipice of exploding.

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