Page 36 of Tainted Saints

Albert’s lip curls. “Your whore left her shit in my car,” he sneers, his face set in ugly lines of distaste.

“I’d watch what you call her, Pennington,” Landon grits out, and I glance at him to see his body tense, his jaw clenched. “Wouldn’t want Daddy to find out about that coke habit of yours.”

Albert splutters, but before he can say anything, Forest cuts in. “And I bet you wouldn’t want all your dealers to cut you off, right? I hear sudden withdrawal can be a real mind fuck.”

My eyes widen as I look from the Saints to Albert, who is grinding his jaw and fisting his hands like he really wants to launch himself at them. There’s a small crowd forming around us, but my attention is on the men around me and the standoff they seem to be in.

With a noise of frustration, Albert spins and storms away, taking most of the tension with him.

“You okay,mi princesa linda?” Blaine whispers softly to me, and I automatically nod my head, then after a few moments shake it.

“M–my mother told me I needed to keep Albert satisfied, his father and the Ambassador, they’re in some kind of business together I think,” I tell them in a rush, twisting in time to catch the look they share between each other. I narrow my eyes. “Do you know something?”

Landon’s dark gaze darts to me, then Aoife, and the crowd behind us.

“Not here, meet us after class, you have a free period and we’ll talk then,” he tells me in a low tone, and my brows furrow.

“How do you know I have a free period?” I question him, and he just gives me a half smirk that has butterflies dancing around in my stomach.

“See you later, Duchess,” he replies, his fingers brushing mine at my side in an all too brief caress before he turns to head in the opposite direction. The small crowd has dispersed, clearly deciding that nothing more exciting was going to happen, for which I am grateful because I can’t let this get back to my parents. I need them to believe that I am with Albert.

“I wish I could kiss you,” Forest murmurs hotly as he leans into me a little, his eyes raking over my skin and leaving fireworks in their wake. His fingers caress mine, just like Lan did, then he, too, is leaving.

“Later,mi tesoro,” Blaine breathes out before he copies the others and leaves my fingers twitching to grab hold of him. When he walks away, I have to bite my lip to stop from calling them back, my stomach knotting and heart screaming at me not to let them go.

“Oh, girl, you guys have got it bad,” Aoife comments from next to me, and I blink, realising that I’d completely forgotten about her. I’ll collect my terrible friend of the year award on the way out.

“Got what bad?” I ask, tearing my gaze away from the rapidly emptying courtyard.

“I was hoping you’d confess all,” she teases, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “The tension between you, shit! I’ve never seen them with another girl at school, much to the rich bitch crew’s annoyance.”

“They don’t date?” I question as we turn to head inside.

“Not from Fairview Academy,” she tells me, holding the door open so we can walk inside. The English building is one of the older ones, and there’s a hush even as students make their way to their classes.

“Huh,” I muse. “Aoife, do you know what they do? I mean, as the Saints?” My heart pounds after the question leaves my lips, anticipation making me feel jittery.

“Nice subject change,” she drawls, winking at me when I blush. “I’m not sure. I heard they offer protection to businesses on the east side, and that Landon’s uncle is in the mafia.”

“What?” I hiss, pulling up short just before we enter our classroom.

“Yeah, rumour has it that his uncle isn’t the Don but is quite high up and the Saints work for him sometimes,” she tells me quietly. “I mean, they help out at the pound, but that’s just a front, or so people say.”

Well, shit.

The bell rings, jolting me out of my stupor, and we rush into a classroom, sitting down next to each other.

“What happened last night?” she whispers to me as we get our tablets out, our teacher bringing up something on the screen before us.

“Quiet, class, we’ve a lot to get through today,” our teacher, Mrs. Sinclair, announces, saving me from having to try and explain the craziness of the past twenty-four hours.

ChapterSeventeen

“i’m yours” by Isabel LaRosa

ASPEN

My brain is mushtwo hours later when we emerge, bleary-eyed into the winter sunshine, but I soon get my focus back when I see Landon waiting for me.

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