Page 6 of Secrets Unveiled

“Then why are you here? Are you following me?” I let out a huff of amusement.

“Don’t flatter yourself, witch stick. I was picking up my own food. Besides, you said he was taking you to Raul’s. Why the hell were you at Olive Garden?” She turns her face away from me, shifting her body towards the door.

“Never mind,” she practically whispers, her embarrassment too much to even try to explain. She doesn’t speak for a long while. We drive in comfortable silence, but when I reach for the radio, she says something that stops me.

“Do you think my scars make me… undesirable?” My knuckles go white at how hard I squeeze the steering wheel, the leather squeaking beneath my grasp. She’s letting that prick’s comment get to her. I glance over at her profile; her head is down, and she’s examining her hands. Scars cover every available inch of skin across her hands. The doctors tried their best to make the scars smoother and less noticeable, but when she was pulled from her house, she was in a bad state. Her hands aren’t the only places she has scars. Her right shoulder blade, her right calf, and a smaller portion of her right oblique are scarred from the burns she endured.

I inhale a deep breath before I answer her. Looking ahead at the road, I reach over and grab one of her hands.

“Sage, no amount of scars, skin grafts, or burn marks could make you look anything but beautiful. Don’t let the opinion of a lowlife piece of shit like Sebastian fill your head with such nonsense. You’re gorgeous—don’t ever forget that.” I give her hand a small squeeze and turn my head to face her as her eyes begin filling with unshed tears. She doesn’t respond, she just lets me hold her. Our hands intertwined the rest of the way home.

As we pull into her driveway, I notice the kitchen light is on and know Frankie must be preparing the last bit of details for an upcoming job we have. Putting the Tahoe in park, I jump out, circling the front and grabbing the passenger door, opening it up for her to step out.

“Don’t act like you’re some sort of gentleman now, Saint,” she teases, stepping out of the passenger seat and grabbing her bag before tossing it over her shoulder. I shut the door behind her and follow her to the front door.

“You want me to come in? I could tuck you in, maybe give you a back rub to help you fall asleep?” I joke, leaning against the frame as she fishes through her bag for the keys.

“Ha ha, very funny. You forget we don’t like each other, right?” She finds her keys and sticks them in the keyhole but stops before unlocking the door.

“All jokes aside, thanks for tonight. You keep saving me like this, and I’m going to think you have feelings for me.” She twists the key, unlocking the door, and steps into the foyer. As she turns around, I flip her off, and a smile creeps across her face as she returns the gesture.

“Don’t let it happen again, witch stick,” I say. I turn to leave, but stop. “Hey.” The door is almost closed, but she stops, peeking her head out to hear what I have to say. “Happy birthday.” I don’t wait for her to respond; I head to my Tahoe and drive off. I don’t want to be late to my little rendezvous with Sebastian.

THREE YEARS AGO

SAGE

Men are truly exhausting; I think to myself as my brother follows me up the stairs and towards the library. Saint’s close on his heels as Saxon berates me about my boyfriend.

“Sage, are you even listening to me? I’ve had enough of that shitbag. You’re not seeing him anymore. Have I made myself clear?” Saxon scolds me as I continue down the hall and into the library.

“Sage!” His tone is getting deeper, and I can tell he’s about to blow his top. His anger is about to rear its ugly face, and I physically don’t want to endure this fight with my brother anymore.

“I heard you, Sax. Loud and clear! You don’t have to worry anyway—he dumped me. Are you happy? You got your way once again.” I turn to face the bookshelf, searching for my favorite book, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. Pulling the book off the shelf, I head for my chair that’s facing the window overlooking the garden. I pull my legs underneath me and lean against the armrest as I flip open to the first page. The guys are silent for a moment, and I catch a glimpse of the two of them sharing a look before Saxon steps further into the library.

“He broke up with you?” Saxon asks me, his voice no longer sounding like he wants to strangle someone, but now sounding almost sympathetic. I sigh to myself, not wanting to explain why I was dumped but knowing my brother and Saint won’t leave me alone until I give them an explanation.

“It’s nothing, Sax. Please, just drop it,” I say into my book, flipping the page, not having read a single word.

“Sage, why?” My brother is relentless, and I know he isn’t going to let this go. I slam my book shut, my cheeks already heating with embarrassment as I blurt out, “Because I wouldn’t have sex with him! Happy? Now, please, just leave me alone.” I turn away from the two of them. The setting sun beams in through the window, warming my face. Loud footsteps exit the room and echo throughout the foyer as whoever left stomps down the stairs. I breathe a sigh of relief but know he is still in the library with me.

“Saint, you can go too. I’m fine. I don’t need you giving me a lecture either,” I say over my shoulder, knowing damn well Saint’s still here. He doesn’t speak; in fact, he’s so quiet I turn to see if he didn’t sneak out without me hearing him. Pulling my legs out from underneath me, I shift in my chair and see he’s leaning against the door frame, his expression unreadable.

“What?” I say to him, sitting up straighter and turning my book in my lap. His eyebrows are pinched together, and he’s giving me a hard look. Silver eyes are on me, and I’m about to tell him to leave me the hell alone when he finally clears his throat.

“Where does he live?”

“What?” I say, confused.

“I’m asking you, where does he live?” I scoff to myself, rolling my eyes but not answering him. Pushing off the door frame, he stalks over to me, his large frame filling the room and making me feel so small all of a sudden. Grabbing the arm rests of the chair, he leans his face close to mine. Our noses are practically touching.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Where does he live?” His scent invades my nose: warm notes of cedar and red sage. I discreetly inhale his scent, my eyes closing a moment longer than normal. When I open them again, he’s still there. His eyebrow now lifted higher, waiting for me to respond. My eyes drift to his mouth, where he rolls a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the corner.

“He—uh—he lives in The Pines development with his mother,” I stutter through my words. I’m suddenly feeling very nervous as he hovers over me.

“What house number, Sage?” Damn, I was hoping he wouldn’t ask me that. My mouth falls open just slightly, my mind trying its hardest to find a way out of this, but I come up short. His silver eyes are still on mine, and I have to turn my head, the intensity of his stare becoming too much. Strong fingers grip my chin, forcing my head back towards his.

“One more time. What’s his house number?” Saint whispers, his voice so low it almost sounds like a growl.

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