Page 21 of Tainted Saints

“So, you're going to the club?” Aoife asks from beside me as we walk out of our maths building, Forest next to me, my hand in the crook of his elbow again. It feels so natural walking like this, so close that our bodies brush against each other as we move.

“I guess so.” I sigh, then pause when I spot Albert and the rest of the jocks waiting a few paces away, all laughing and messing around. My stomach churns at the look of anger on his face, and he strides over to us like there’s a fire hot on his heels.

“You ready, gorgeous?” he asks tightly, his tone dark and commanding as he completely ignores Aoife and Forest, who tenses next to me.

“You offering to take us on a date, son? I’m afraid you’re not my type,” Forest says, his tone sharp with a cruel edge to it. I watch as Albert’s face reddens, his jaw tightly clenched. Then a savage smile pulls his lips upwards.

“Thanks for taking care of my girl,Butler, but we really have to be going. Can’t have her turning up with the stench of dog all over her, her father wouldn’t approve.” Albert’s face is twisted into something monstrous, something that I recognise all too well from time spent with the Ambassador, and then I’m being tugged sharply away from Forest, Albert’s hand like a vice around my bicep. Pain shoots up my arm, but I mask it before this situation gets out of hand, though it's the loss of my connection with Forest that leaves me feeling cold and empty.

“I–I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I tell Forest, begging with my eyes not to make this into a big deal, even as Albert releases me only to tuck me under his arm. An overwhelming cologne makes me almost gag, I can’t even identify the smell properly. It's so strong, something sharp and caustic.

Forest’s nostrils flare, his teeth clearly grinding together as he takes deep inhales. “Alright, sugar. I’ll see you then.”

Albert doesn’t waste any more time to let me say goodbye, just turns us around and all but drags me away, his arm a band around my shoulders.

“You shouldn’t hang around with the Saints, Aspen. They are below you, criminals too, and they’re not suitable for a girl of your standing,” Albert grits out as he takes me past his group of friends and towards the student car park.

“Below me?” I ask, knowing full well what he means but wanting him to say it out loud, the elitist prick.

“Oh, sweet thing, don’t worry. I’m here to guide you, just like our fathers told me to,” he tells me in the most condescending tone I’ve ever heard. I want to punch him in the family jewels, but years of conditioning by the Ambassador holds me back. I’ve learned that it’s easier to just stay quiet and not cause trouble.

He stops in front of an orange sports car, a Lamborghini I think, and all I can see as I look at it is the pretence that I’m so sick to death of. I don’t want to be here with AlbertfuckingPennington the Third. I want to be with Forest, Blaine, Landon, and Aoife. Hanging out like a regular high school girl and seeing where the chemistry between the Saints and I goes.

But I learned young that what I want doesn’t matter. Hell, what I need barely factors into it so, with a sigh, I slide into the low car, Albert slamming the door just as the rumble of motorbikes fills the air. My heart rate picks up when I look through the window to see the three of them, the Saints, each on a metal beast that leaves me breathless. They’re not wearing helmets—arrogant bastards—and they’ve turned to face me, watching as Albert gets in and switches the engine on.

The purr is nice, but it’s nothing compared to the sound of the bikes as they idle there, waiting.

“Fucking sons of bitches,” Albert hisses as he peers around me and sees what I’m looking at. “I’ll make them eat my dust, show them their place.”

His words leave me feeling nauseous, and I turn away from the Saints, not wanting to draw any more of Albert’s attention their way. With a squeal of tires, we peel out of the lot, just missing several other students who are trying to leave. My hand clutches the oh shit handle, my grip white-knuckled as I rush to do my seat belt when Albert accelerates away, leaving the Saints behind.

“So, um, you play sports?” I ask after a few minutes, Albert still driving too fast like a twat, my training to be polite kicking in. A part of me also still wants to take his focus away from the three men, even though they are long gone. I can’t have my father finding out about them, Albert is right in guessing that he’d be displeased. He’d be fucking livid, taking out his wrath not just on me but them too.

“I’m star quarterback of the football team,” Albert preens, his hand landing on my thigh and squeezing hard. I freeze, my heart pounding. I don’t want this, don’t want him touching me like this, regardless of what our fathers have agreed. “It would be good if you joined the cheerleaders. Makes sense for me to be dating one.”

I snort, and his grip tightens, pain making me gasp.

“I–I am not cheerleader material. Totally uncoordinated,” I rush out, tears stinging my eyes at the pain of his touch. It lessens slightly, the spots where his fingers dug in throbbing and I know that I’ll have bruises there.

“Well, you can always learn,” he states, ignoring the fact that I basically told him I’m not interested in joining those bunch of bitches. His hand squeezes again, as if he knew a protest was about to fall from my lips, so I snap them shut and remain silent, like the dutiful little woman he and my father want. His grip eases and I breathe a soft sigh of relief.

We spend the rest of the car ride with Albert telling me all about himself, what he likes and doesn’t like, in all things including women. Not once does he ask about me, but then, why should I be surprised? If he has my father’s approval, he must be of a similar calibre of man.

I can feel my shoulders caving in, a sensation of falling spreading over me like a mist, coating my insides until I can clearly picture the life that lies ahead. Trading one controlling master for another, becoming exactly like my mother; cruel and uncaring because I am so unhappy that I have to take out my pain on those around me.

The car comes to a jerking stop, and I blink out of my grey haze, seeing that we’ve pulled up in front of a brick and wood building that looks like a typical country club. I barely notice when my door is opened, Albert helping me out and leading us into the club, his hand gripping mine tightly as the valet parks his car around the back. Too late I realise that I’ve left my bag and jacket in his car, but he tugs me along before I can say anything so I keep my mouth shut, figuring I’ll get it later.

We’re greeted by a middle-aged woman, who looks as though she’s so full of filler she can hardly make a facial expression.

“Welcome, Mr. Pennington. So nice to see you again,” she greets, her eyes raking over Albert in a way that she really shouldn’t given their age differences. There’s a flare of jealousy in her brown gaze as she turns to me, the skin around her eyes tightening slightly. “And you brought Miss Buckingham too. Welcome.”

I don’t even bat an eye at the fact she knows my name, I’m sure the Ambassador has been here already and told them all about Albert and I.

I give a quick fake smile, as is expected of me.We don’t talk to the staff, they are here to cater to us.

“Good afternoon, Sarah,” Albert replies, clearly not having been given the same lessons as I. “We’ll go to the usual room.” My stomach lurches for a moment, imagining some kind of private room where Albert plans to force himself on me. He wouldn’t be the first to think that, because he has my father’s approval, my consent is a given.

I push down the memories, enough to hear Sarah saying that some of the others are already here, and the relief that pours through me makes my knees weak.

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