Page 20 of Tainted Saints

“Did you eat?” Landon asks, pulling up a chair to the end of the table as Blaine scoots in next to Aoife who moves over with wide what-the-fuck-is-happening eyes. Completely oblivious to my new friend’s discomfort and confusion, Blaine starts to eat the biggest club sandwich I’ve ever seen.

“Ummm,” I nibble my lower lip, looking at Blaine’s steel cup on the table in front of me.

Landon’s jaw tightens as he stares at me. “I didn’t think so,” he says, his tone scolding, and my cheeks heat. He takes a bowl from his tray, leaning over to place it and a spoon in front of me. “Chicken soup, and we’re not leaving until you eat it all up, Duchess.”

“You got me soup?” I ask, my eyebrows squishing together as I look at his savage features. He really is too damn beautiful with those tattoos climbing up his jaw and down the back of his hands. “But I didn’t see chicken soup on the menu.”

“My cousin works in the kitchens, so I had them make it for you. Be a good girl and clean your plate,” he orders, taking a bite of a chicken leg.

I look at the delicious smelling soup, a lump forming in my throat at the fact that he was worried enough about me to get the kitchen to make something specific.

“Hey now,” Forest coos from beside me, and I turn to look at him. He has the spoon in his hand, and I watch as scoops up some of the soup before blowing on it and bringing it to my lips. “Here.”

I open my lips, letting him slide the spoon in between them, and I know the act of feeding me shouldn’t be so fucking erotic, but the way his pupils go dark, the black swallowing up the green as the flavour of herby chicken bursts on my tongue has my thighs clenching.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, and I swear to god that a small moan falls from my parted lips. “We’ll have this soup all gone in no time, won’t we, sugar?”

I find my head bobbing as he holds out another spoonful to feed me. He’s right, and soon the bowl is empty and I feel full, but not uncomfortably so. A bell rings, and I look in dismay at Forest’s still mostly full plate.

“Oh! You didn’t get to finish yours,” I whisper, the soup now swirling uncomfortably as guilt makes my chest tight.

“Hey, don’t fuss, angel. I’ve got a free period so I will eat the rest then. No need for you to worry about me, I’m a big boy.” He winks at the end, and there goes my cheeks again, the double meaning to his words registering. Laughing, he slides out of the booth and holds out his hand to me, the soup settling down now that I know he’ll be able to finish his lunch.

He doesn’t release my hand, instead, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back like he’s now done several times. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, to the way his touch sends fire racing through my veins.

Warmth hits my back, and by the lavender and leather scent, I know that it’s Landon. He’s standing so close that I can feel the outline of his hard body.

“Let’s get you to English,” he purrs in my ear, and being sandwiched between them both has my heart beating frantically in my chest, my blood practically singing at their nearness. Butterflies take flight in my stomach, and that damn soup seems to be haunting me as my stomach begins to twist at having them caging me with their hard bodies.

“See you later, Little Lady,” Forest tells me, placing another soft kiss on my knuckles before sliding back into the booth.

My eyes catch on bright blue ones filled with anger as Albert casts a withering glance at the Saints from across the hall. My stomach swoops like I’ve gone over a steep bridge, and I have to swallow repeatedly to stop bile rising to my throat.

The press of a warm palm against my back forces me to take a shuddering breath, and blinking, I look to the side to see Landon stepping up next to me. His gaze is trained on Albert’s, his chin high, and I turn back to see Albert’s lip curl before his friends usher him out of the hall.

“Come on, Duchess,” Landon says after a moment, his hand still on my lower back and burning through my thick cardigan. Twisting, I look back as Aoife exits the booth, Blaine standing aside to let her pass. I catch his eye and he gives me a small smile before he sits back down.

“What is your next class, Aoife?” I ask, realising that I completely forgot about her with the Saints around. I have to bite my bottom lip to stop the laugh that wants to burst free at her bright red face. She narrows her eyes in a mock-glare but then smiles to soften it. I’m sure she’ll be questioning me the first moment we are alone, but I’m not sure I can tell her anything. I’ve no idea why the Saints are the way they are with me.

“English too,” she states, lifting her bag onto her shoulder. I go to grab mine, frowning when I realise it’s not where I left it on the floor. We don’t have textbooks, everything we need is downloaded to our iPads, but I still need that.

“I’ve got your bag,” Landon murmurs in my ear, the soft caress of his breath against my skin sending a shiver across my nerve endings. I turn to see my satchel once again hanging off his shoulder, his own rucksack on the other one, and then he’s applying pressure on my back to get me to start moving. “We don’t want you to be late on your first day.”

My feet move, almost as though he has taken command of my body, and I find that I don’t mind this loss of control. Some part of me trusts Landon and the other two Saints to keep me safe. To not abuse this power they seem to have over me. So I let him lead me out of the hall, Aoife resuming her chatter as we make our way to my first class while I wonder what game fate is playing to allow me three protectors and a new friend all in one day.

ChapterTen

“Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Saint Mesa

ASPEN

The restof the day passes in a bit of a blur, and my concentration is not what it ought to be. I’m not sure if that’s due to the fasting or the fact that one of the Saints is in three of my classes, sitting next to me like my own private protection.

I can’t quite work out their place in the hierarchy here. The other students seem to look at them with a mix of grudging respect and loathing, probably on account of the fact that they are scholarship kids and not minted like the rest of the student body. The girls gaze at them with lust written all over their faces, and honestly, I can’t blame them. There’s nothing more alluring to a repressed rich bitch than a bad boy, I should know.

All in all, my day goes as expected, aside from my watchers, and soon the last bell is ringing and we’re all heading out of the buildings into the crisp, winter sunshine. My stomach tightens when I remember my date with Albert, if it could even be called that. I mean, he didn’t even ask me, just told me I was going with him. I guess when he’s been informed that we are dating, why bother with pleasantries.

The Saints would…unless it’s Landon of course, but the way he commands the world around him is kind of a turn-on. Not so much with Albert Pennington the Third. Urgh.

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