Page 13 of Tainted Saints

“Bring her this way, Mr. Butler,” Sally urges, opening the door across from her desk and ushering us into a quiet room with the blinds half closed and a hospital-style bed against one wall, open white curtains around it. “Place her there. Will you wait with her while I go call the nurse?”

“Of course,” I state, my heart thudding painfully in my chest as I watch Forest carefully lay her down on the white sheets. Sally doesn’t even question the decision of leaving an unconscious girl with three guys from the wrong side of the tracks unsupervised in a room. This confirms why I like her, whilst also making me glad it wasn’t anyone else who had been tasked with showing her around. A lot of the rich dickheads here wouldn’t stop to think of a pesky thing like consent if they were in the same situation.

“I knew I could trust you, Landon,” Sally states, squeezing my arm briefly before she rushes out of the door, closing it behind her.

“She’s too thin, she practically weighs nothing,” Forest comments in a low voice from the bedside, and I go over to the other side, Blaine standing next to Forest and immediately taking her hand in his. Both their brows are deeply furrowed, and I can feel mine emulating them as I look down at her.

She is beauty fucking personified; tumbling, wheat blonde waves frame a delicate face, her lips painted a shade of red that has dirty thoughts running amok around my head. Maybe I am no better than those rich bastards out there.

“Her mom has her on some kind of fucked up diet,” Blaine tells us, his eyes not leaving her face. “She regularly makes her fast and miss meals.”

My nostrils flare as Forest actually growls like one of the strays that end up in his aunt’s pound. I can sympathise. Why would she need to fast? There’s fucking nothing to her as it is.

Do not get attached. My uncle’s words float to my mind, and I have to clench my teeth, my hands tightening on the bars of the bed as I fight the war that rages inside me. She’s a rich bitch that steals for fun, no matter that Blaine tried to deny it, he wouldn’t give us a good enough reason to justify her actions, just saying that it was not his secret to tell. We never keep anything from each other, so another thing against her, plus the fact that her dad is into some seriously shady shit, hence us being tasked by my uncle to watch her and see if we can learn anything that way, as he’s struggling to get an in.

Aeron Taylor, of the infamous Colorado Taylors, also asked us to keep an eye on her. Apparently, our fathers knew each other, and there was something about the way she reacted around her father at their party, the fucking British Ambassador, like she was scared of him. This got Blaine all riled up as, after his mom, he can’t stand a woman being hurt by a man.

Basically, it’s a fucking shitshow, all wrapped up in an irresistible package known as Aspen Buckingham.

“Forest?” Her breathy voice croaks and my gaze snaps to her, seeing her brows knitted together as colour returns to her cheeks. “Blaine? What are you doing here?”

She goes to sit up and, before I can stop myself, my hand gently pushes her back down. Shit, Forest was right, she’s practically skin and bone.

“You passed out, Duchess,” I tell her, my fingers pushing a lock of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“And I caught you in true Hollywood hero fashion,” Forest interjects smugly, and I roll my eyes at him, my fingers lingering along her jawline. She closes her eyes briefly, and I snatch my hand back as if the touch burned.Fuck, it did, the nerves all up my arm firing, which is bad. Yep, definitely bad, and I don’t crave her touch one small bit.

Her eyes open, and I’m drowning in a sea of green glass, my breath stolen out of my lungs before she looks to Forest and gives him a tiny, hardly there smile. The room fucking lights up like the fourth of July, and it takes everything I possess not to force her to look at me like that.

“Your name is Rhett Butler? Like,Gone with the Wind?” she asks, and Forest grins like he’s not heard it all before.

“Yes, ma’am, though I most definitely do give a damn,” he flirts, thickly laying on the Southern charm that has opened legs for him all across campus. The color on her cheeks deepens and she looks away, pausing at Blaine.

“I still have your jacket, if I’d known—” Her eyes are a little wide, like she’s worried he’ll be angry, and I don’t like that is her initial reaction.

“It’s okay,mi princesa linda. I can get it another time,” Blaine reassures her in his deep rumble. I know that it’s the only jacket he possesses and Blaine is very careful of his belongings, as we all are, as we have to be, given what little we have, so it surprises me how dismissive he is of it.

“I–I can get it to you after school. I’m sorry I had it so long. I…” she trails off, her eyes going unfocused for a moment, a flash of soul-shredding terror making my heart leap in my chest before she blinks and is looking at Blaine again. “I’m sorry.” The sheets rustle as she fidgets on the bed, like she wants the floor to swallow her whole, her thin shoulders hunching inwards.

“Nothing to apologise for,” he whispers, bringing her hand up to his lips and placing a kiss on her knuckles. Her eyes go wide, her chest hitching as if she didn’t realise he had a hold of her this whole time. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s usually the last one to speak, let alone show any kind of affection, outside of our group of course.

The door opens and I look up to see Sally striding in, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as Nurse Jo follows behind her.

“Out of my way, boys. She doesn’t need you fussing around like mother hens,” Jo shoos us in her thick, Scottish accent. She’s an older woman, and I like her, because like Sally, she treats us the same as everyone else, not less because we aren’t worth the same as a small country.

I don’t move, Forest and Blaine giving me the stink eye as they step back to allow Jo to take a look at Aspen.

“Now, lass, tell me what happened,” Jo demands, strapping a band around Aspen's forearm and pumping it up to take her blood pressure.

“Um, well, I just fainted. I’m fine really, it happens sometimes,” Aspen tells the older woman while not looking at any of us, instead, focusing on a spot on the wall opposite.

“I see,” Jo states, her gaze sweeping over Aspen and a frown furrowing her brow. “And when was the last time you ate, lass?”

Aspen’s eyes widen slightly, and I can’t help feeling the way she nibbles her lower lip is because of panic, but why?

“I, um, well, just came out of a seven-day f–fast two days ago, so had half an avocado for breakfast,” she tells Jo, looking down at her hands which are clenched tightly in her lap.

My gaze snaps up to Blaine’s, seeing that he has come to the same conclusion as I have. Seven days ago was when they were both released from county jail. That’s too much of a coincidence, but what the fuck is going on.Surely the Ambassador, with all his riches and resources, isn’t starving his daughter, is he?

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