Page 22 of Tainted Saints

Albert leads us down a wide corridor, and then into a room that has a panoramic view of the golf course that seems to be a must for any country club.

“Alby!” A girlish squeal makes me wince, and I see it’s the brown-haired girl from the dining hall, the one who gave me the stink eye earlier.

“Hey, Justine. Have you met Aspen?” Albert asks, his arm around my waist giving me a squeeze that makes me feel sick. It's not like when Forest or one of the other Saints touches me, that’s exciting and welcome. This is like having something sharp dragged across your skin; uncomfortable and just makes me want to step away. But I don’t, I’m too well-trained for that, so instead, I give Justine my brightest smile, uncaring if I look fake as fuck.

“Pleased to meet you, Justine,” I say, my tone so sweet that I want to throw up.

“Likewise, Aspen. We’ve all heard so much about you, and for the Saints to all have taken such an interest, you must be super special.” Her smile is just as fake and brittle as mine, which falters when Albert’s arm tightens.

“Yes, well, we’ve spoken about the kinds of friends Aspen will be making here, and theSaintsdo not make that cut, do they, gorgeous?” His lips are pulled up into a hard smile, and I quickly shake my head, my need to keep the peace and keep his mind off the three guys overriding my need to exert some kind of independence. “Now, let’s get some drinks and introduce you around some more.”

The fact that they are all drinking alcohol of some kind doesn’t even phase me; money can and will get you what you want. I decide to join them, even though I know that with the small amount of food in my stomach I will feel the effects quickly, but one won’t hurt, right?

The waitress brings over my long island iced tea, and I sip it gratefully as we take a seat on a sofa. There is a low table in front of us and other sofas surrounding it. All of them are full of what I imagine are the cool kids of Fairview, and I quickly forget names as I sip my drink and let the conversation flow around me, Albert’s hand on my knee in a possessive gesture he hasn’t earned the right to yet.

A little while later, the need to pee becomes overwhelming, so, excusing myself, I head to the bathrooms and take care of business. Washing up afterwards, I look in the mirror and see a girl who looks haunted staring back at me. Her cheeks are rosy on account of the alcohol creating a nice buzz, but her eyes are tormented, and I quickly turn away, unable to hold my own gaze any longer.

Is this all there is for me? Nothing of my own, always at the whim of others?

Shaking off the maudlin thoughts, and seeing that it’s grown dark outside, I decide that it’s time for me to head home. Albert has been drinking quite a bit, his glass of beer replenished and never left empty, so I’ll have to see about ordering a cab.

I’m surprised to see that he’s not in the main room when I return, and I curse when I remember my bag and jacket are still in his car so I have to find him.

“Has anyone seen Albert?” I ask, and Justine gives me a sweet smile.

“Oh, yeah, I think he went back out front to find Sarah. You’ll probably find him in her office, the door just behind the welcome desk,” she tells me, a genuine smile on her face which leaves me wondering why she’s being so nice all of a sudden.

“Oh, thanks, Justine. See you later, I’m heading home after I find him,” I reply, the alcohol making my words a little slurred.

“Anytime, Aspen,” she coos, giving me a finger wave. Shaking my head, I turn to leave, hearing her and the other cheer bitches’ tittering laughter as I walk away, but I’ve had enough bullshit for one evening so I just ignore them.

Making my way down the corridor, I come to the front desk and find it empty, so shrugging, I walk behind it and push open the door that I assume leads to Sarah’s office.

Blinking, it takes a hot minute for my brain to process what it’s seeing.

ChapterEleven

“Shameless” by Camila Cabello

ASPEN

Albert is sittingin an office chair, his face contorted in a mask of pleasure as Sarah’s head bobs up and down in his lap, the loud slurping noise telling me exactly what she is doing. My supposed new boyfriend of only a few hours is having his dicked sucked by the receptionist. Hurt makes my chest ache. Not that I wanted him, but at the fact that he could treat me with such disregard, like I am less than nothing to him.

His eyes open and then widen when he catches me staring.

“Fuck!” he hisses, but Sarah clearly doesn’t get that it’s not a good fuck and goes harder.Extra points for effort, girl.

He goes to stand up, but I spin, my heart pounding as I sprint towards the glass doors which open automatically as I approach, thank fuck. The freezing night air is like a slap to the face, helping to sober me up a bit, my leather boots ringing as my feet pound the pavement and then the drive.

I have no fucking clue where I’m going, but lucky for me, my last school had a militant, ex-army physical education teacher who placed great stock in running, and I came to enjoy the forced ten-kilometre runs we had to take part in four times a week.

I can vaguely hear my name being shouted behind me, but I ignore it, my breath sawing out of my chest and sweat forming down my spine as I push myself to go faster, to get away. I’ve no idea what Albert will do if he catches me, but I don’t intend to find out, all thoughts of my bad forgotten as I run.

The drive opens out onto the main street of Fairview and I keep going, the shops all around me closed and dark, shut for the night.

“Aspen! Slow the fuck down!” Albert roars behind me, and as much as I want to take a breather, I ignore him. My body is still weak from my enforced starvation however, and I can feel my pace slowing even as I try to push harder.

Tears prick my eyes at the thought of being caught, my flight instinct screaming at me to flee. Glancing back, I can see Albert catching up, but not even the shot of adrenaline can help me when I’ve been starved for the better part of a week.

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