Page 38 of Secrets Unveiled

“Find out if the mayor is truly behind all this, slit his throat and watch until the last drop of blood exits his body.” Saxon answers for me. His anger is the root cause of Frankie not telling him.

“Exactly my point. Your anger will get you killed, boy. Best learn control if you want to take down the mayor.” He’s right. If we go after the mayor, we need to do it strategically and quietly. We can’t just ride up to his mansion and bust through, guns blazing. We need proof and a solid plan. I watch as Frankie brushes his hands through his hair. A frustrated sigh fills the kitchen as he pulls out his phone and glances down.

“Right, I need to eat and shower. I’ll call you later, Sax, and we’ll figure something out.” Pocketing his cell, he turns his back to Sax and makes his way past me into the foyer. Saxon and I say nothing as he exits the house and jumps on his bike. I enter the kitchen fully then, and sit down at the small breakfast nook table, leaning back and spreading my legs wide.

“What do you think?” I ask, adjusting my jeans and getting comfortable. Saxon looks at me, leaning his back against the island and shoving his hands in his pockets before answering.

“I don’t trust him. He’s been keeping all this from us for seven years. The only reason he said anything was because he got caught. Once a liar, always a liar.” My shoulders stiffen at his comment. I’m not a liar per se, but I am keeping a huge fucking secret from him, and the guilt is strangling me inside.

“Can you get ahold of his phone records from that long ago, so we can pinpoint where the messages were pinging off the cell phone towers?” I am no computer genius, by any means, but I can definitely work my way around a computer.

“Yeah, of course,” I answer.

“We’ll start there. Maybe that can lead us to something.” I stand from the chair and start towards my room, where my laptop is. Saxon’s next question causes me to freeze in my tracks.

“Are you messing around with my sister?”

Fuck.

SAINT

I wanted to be the one to bring up the conversation, not the other way around. Now, it will definitely seem as though I’ve been lying to my best friend. This is what I get for sleeping with my best friend’s sister. Fuck, this is going to hurt.

I turn to face Saxon, his face hard as granite as he pins me with his dark eyes that are now solid black. His eyebrows pinch even harder together at my silence, and before I know it, he’s pushing off the island and storming over to me in a tornado-like fury. I close my eyes, allowing and welcoming the pain he is about to give me because, let’s face it, I deserve this. The crack of his fist slams into my jaw, causing me to stumble back. I maintain my balance, but when his fist connects with my face once again, the force of his blow knocks my ass on the ground.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? She’s my sister!” Saxon’s voice says it all. He’s more than upset; he’s a man possessed, and no amount of friendship will excuse my behavior. I welcome his next few blows over and over again. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, and the pain of his fists radiates throughout my skull.

“Fight back, you piece of shit!” I don’t. I’ll let him beat me for as long as he needs to. Every time I stand again, he throws another punch. My face, my stomach, my sides, I can only imagine how rough I’ll look later. Guilt starts to bubble in my chest as I stand once more. Saxon has stopped, his breathing harsh and exhausted, but his expression gives way to more than just anger. He’s hurt. This is betrayal at its worst, not only from his best friend, but from his sister.

“Sax, I never planned this. It just happened,” I finally get out. Every word is painful from his relentless beating.

“Fuck you, Saint. She’s my sister.” I lift my shirt up and wipe the blood from my face, the constant drip irritating me.

“She’s too good for you. She deserves—” Locks of his hair fall from its bun and he quickly secures it.

“She deserves the world,” I finish for him. Lowering my head, I straighten my clothes out from the chaos. He’s right. Sage is too good for me. My hands are stained with blood and filth that will never be clean. She’s the light God chose to keep on this earth. An angel destined for greatness, who doesn’t need the sin of a man like me tainting her.

“You and I both know she’s better than us, Saint. She’s better than all this.” His hands gesture at his surroundings. His words mean more than just this beautiful house she lives in, but also the club, the brutality, and the secrets. “She deserves to marry a gentleman, live in a big fucking white house, have a dog and two kids, and be on the school committee. She’s more than this life. She’s pure.” A long pause settles between us. His face is pained with the realization that Sage was born into this life, and whether he likes it or not, he can’t protect her from choosing what she truly wants. I just hope what she wants is me. “We were destined to live this life, Saint.”

He leans his back against the island once more, his head tilting back as he lets out a deep sigh. Blood drips from his busted knuckles, and I watch as one crimson drop splatters to the white marble floor. As I watch the blood spread, I can’t help but agree with him. I’m the drop of blood, and she’s the white marble. She’s good, and I’m evil. Hades and Persephone. I’m selfish for wanting to keep her for myself, when in reality, she deserves rich, colorful gardens, not my dark shadowy depths.

“You’re right.” My voice is so low I wonder if he even hears me. “I’m sorry, Sax. I overstepped. It shouldn’t have happened.” I can’t handle the blanket of regret and guilt that’s now draped over me. I head to my room, knowing damn well what I have to do. I should end things between us. As much as I’d rather die than live in a world where she’s not mine, I can’t drag her down a path that’s not meant for her. I can’t stomp out her flames with my ashes. She needs the best, and I simply am not that.

“Do you love her?” Saxon’s voice stops me once more before I reach my bedroom door. His question is something I’ve not allowed myself to think much about before. I like her. Fuck, I like everything about her. When she’s gone, she is all I think about. When she’s near, I want to touch her. I want to fight off all of her nightmares. I want to hold and cherish her. I want to be the person she runs to when she has a bad day, when she’s sad, or angry, or happy. I want to be her first thought in the morning and her last thought when she goes to bed. I’ve always liked Sage. Ever since the first time we met, all those years ago.

The first time I was invited to Saxon’s house after school. She was the first person I saw when I entered the doors. She was in jean shorts, a baggy boy shirt, black-and-white Converse, and a backwards baseball cap. A little tomboy, following around her father like he was her prince charming. Something about her energy pulled me to her—a gravitational force constantly surrounded her, and I never wanted to stay away. It was physically impossible. It’s clear now: I’ve always loved her. I loved her then, I love her now, and I’ll love her forever.

“Yeah, Sax. I do.” I close my door after my confession, not caring anymore about the repercussions of my words. I love her and there’s no changing that. I love her so much that I’d be willing to let her go to ensure her future shines as brightly as she does. As much as it would kill me, I know I should to let her go.

I know I should… but I won’t.

She’s mine.

SAGE

“You and Saint?!” Ophelia practically screams on the lawn at our campus. Between classes, we grab our usual café sandwiches that are sold on campus and find a shady spot on the lawn to sit and eat before our next class starts.

“Shhh, O, don’t yell,” I whisper to her, but I don’t miss the heads that snap in our direction at her declaration. Her face is still in shock, her mouth wide open and eyes as round as saucers.

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