Page 19 of Tainted Saints

“Exactly! Isn’t that just the most romantic thing, to steal from the rich and give to the poor?” She sighs again, and I can’t help another laugh bursting from me, even if my heart skips a beat. “But the Saints aren’t the only group to be aware of on campus,” she continues, heading over to one of the counters that has food options. “There’s Justine and the bitch squad, and Albert Pennington the Third and his jock cronies,” Aoife tells me as she grabs some food and then we sit at our table in the large dining hall. It’s a stunning space, high, wooden-clad ceilings with exposed beams and large, arched windows showcasing the extensive grounds and woodland that surrounds the Academy. There are also several wrought iron chandeliers hanging from chains, giving a faux mediaeval vibe that’s kind of cute despite the building being no more than fifty years old.

We’re sitting in one of the booths that are tucked down the side of the vast space, and I’m grateful for the hidden space away from the rest of the student body. I may crave noise after being locked away in the darkness, but the reality of it can be a little overwhelming.

“Wait,” I interject, setting Blaine’s steel cup on the table. “Did you say Albert Pennington the Third?” I feel like my eyes bug out of my face, my skin tingling as she casually mentions the guy the Ambassador wants me to date.

“Yep, the one and only,” she agrees, then frowns. “Or I guess third seeing as there must be two before him. I mean, who even has a number in their name? That’s weird, right?”

I laugh, knowing that I was right to trust my instincts with Aoife. “Really fucking weird.”

“Oh, thank fuck you swear! Mam always says I curse like a sailor, and I was worried that I’d have to keep a lid on it for the rest of lunch.”

We both laugh at that, and something warms in my chest at having found a kindred spirit.

“So, aside from swearing, what do you like to do with your spare time?” I ask her, popping the lid off the shake and taking a sip. Still cold and yummy. Aoife eyes it suspiciously, then looks down at her burger and fries and I can see the grimace on her face. “I would usually bite your arm off for some chips because they are life,” I tell her, and her deep-blue gaze snaps back up to me. “But Mum put me on a special diet that includes lots of fasting and well…” I trail off, not knowing quite how to explain the fucked up situation I have at home where every calorie I eat is accounted for.

“Oh,” she replies, looking relieved and a little sympathetic. “Mam says we’re from good farming stock and men like something to grab a hold of, if you know what I mean, so I’ve never worried too much about all of that.”

“I like the sound of your mum,” I tell her with a soft smile, wondering, not for the first time, what it would be like to have a parent who actually cared about me for a change and not just what I can bring to the family. “She has some fab advice, and I wish I had more to grab hold of.” I look down at my small chest, slim hips, and know that underneath my thick cardigan, the last couple of my ribs are showing.

“Maybe for a Saint or three to grab hold of?” she teases, then squeaks when a shadow falls across our table.

“Well hello, Aspen,” the male voice greets, and I crane my neck to see a guy standing at the edge of our booth. He’s handsome in that all-American, jock kind of way with sandy-brown hair and bright blue eyes. He’s pretty muscular, though nowhere near as built as any of the Saints.

“Um, hello?” I answer, wondering who the hell this is and why they know my name.

“Forgive me, gorgeous,” he croons, and there’s just something about it that makes my skin prickle. “When they told me about you, well, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be told who to date, but I am pleasantly surprised. You are pretty hot.” His eyes trail over me and I squirm, not liking the fact that this must be Albert Pennington the Third, the boy my father told me I was going to be dating. “And it’s nice to see a woman who doesn’t fill her body with junk food.”

My nostrils flare as he cuts a scathing look Aoife’s way, my hands clenching around Blaine’s cup when I see the red on her cheeks and the glisten of unshed tears in her eyes.

“I don’t see what business it is of yours what anyone decides to eat,” I snap back, and for a moment his eyes flare brighter, anger making them shine. Then it’s gone, replaced with his boy next door smile.

“I like a girl with spirit,” he states, running his gaze over me as if he’d like nothing more than to break my spirit for his own amusement, just like the Ambassador. Now I see why Albert was chosen for me, he has all the makings of a controlling, manipulator narcissist. “I’ll pick you up after school, a bunch of us are going to Fairview Country Club so you can meet everyone properly then.”

He doesn’t bother to wait for my acquiescence, just gives me a smouldering smile that is nowhere close to the level of Forest’s, and then prowls away, back to a table full of jocks and what looks like cheerleaders. Fuck. My. Life.

“I assume that was the one and only Albert Pennington the Third?” I ask Aoife, tearing my gaze away from the group, who all cheer and catcall when he reaches their table.

“Yep.” I glance at her when she lets out a sigh to find her poking at her fries.

“May I?” I ask, reaching out a hand and hovering it over her chips. Her lips tug up in a slow smile that steadily grows into a wide grin.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” She chuckles, grabbing her own and we eat them with smiles on her faces.

“I’m guessing the cheerleaders are Justine and her bitch squad?” I question after a few moments, risking a glance in their direction and blowing out a breath when I see a dark-haired girl glaring daggers at me.

“Right again, and Justine has a hard-on for Albert…” she trails off, then huffs a breath, and I look back at her, my brows raised. “What did he mean when he said he doesn’t like being told who to date?”

Now it’s my turn to huff a breath out. “Last week, about four days after we arrived I think, the Ambassador, my father, told me that I’d be dating Albert.” I grimace. Just hearing it out loud sounds so fucked up.

Both of her dark brows are almost in her hairline, but she quickly schools her look of surprise. “Oh, um, that’s…”

“Fucked up? Yeah, I know.” I let out a sigh. Suddenly, the sunny, winter day starts feeling dark and gloomy.

I just wish I had some control over my life, just a small part that was mine, but every aspect is taken care of without any input from me. The itch that landed me in a jail cell for a night begins, but luckily we’re not near any shops, so there’s no way for me to scratch it by stealing. My eyes still look around the dining hall, but I grit my teeth and refuse to take from my fellow students, no matter what my brain is trying to tell me to do.

“Why so glum, Little Lady?” Forest asks as he slides into the booth next to me, his plate piled high with all kinds of yummy smelling foods.

All my negativity drains away as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, the soft caress of his fingers sending tingles all across my nerve endings.

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