Page 51 of Tainted Saints

“I don’t mind,” she answers, her beautiful smile making my heart skip several fucking beats. “What do you usually do on a Friday night?”

My heart stills as her words register, and Lan curses. Then Blaine grinds his jaw as we share a loaded look.

“Friday is Saint’s night at Lan’s mom’s restaurant,” I tell her, watching her brows scrunch in the cutest way.

“Saint’s night?” she asks, tilting her head to the side, studying me, and I fucking love having her attention.

“It’s when we meet with the rest of the Saints, discuss business, and touch base,” Lan tells her, coming up to stand next to me, running his hand through his hair. “After Mama closes up for the night, we use it.”

She twists in my arms to look up at him, nibbling her lower lip. “Is anyone from school going to be there?”

I laugh. “No, sugar. These kids don’t have scholarships to fancy schools like we do.”

“And they’re all loyal to you?” she questions, and I can't help but love the way her eyes light up as she thinks.

“Every last one, without a doubt,” Blaine states, drawn to her like we all are, cupping her cheek in his huge palm as she turns her face to him. She closes her eyes and nuzzles into his touch, breathing out a contented sigh that I want to hear from her lips always.

“Then I don’t see the issue with me tagging along, right, Lan?” She opens her eyes, looking straight at him, and I think I just fell for her. No one challenges Lan, and boy does he need it.

I tear my gaze from her to see his lip almost quirking up into a smile while he also attempts to keep that stern look on his face. He fails.

“One of us will be at your side all night, Duchess. That’s non-negotiable,” he warns, and I flit my gaze back to her to see those plump lips lifting in a coy smile.

“Yes, sir,” she agrees, looking at him from underneath her lashes, and fuck me seven ways til Sunday. My dick springs to attention in my pants, and by the growls that rumble either side of me, I know my brothers feel the same.

“Until then,” I start after clearing my throat and tugging her away from the others. “How about a movie? Are you hungry? We usually eat with the others. Lan makes something fucking delicious and we share it like one big family meal.”

“A movie sounds perfect,” she beams, and my goodness it’s like the sun is suddenly in our apartment, making everything seem brighter. “And I can wait to eat.”

Lan scoffs as I get her settled on our threadbare couch, letting her snuggle into my side. “You will not fucking wait to eat, Duchess. I’ll make you something now and you can have more later,” Lan states, heading over to our kitchen to prepare some food for our Little Lady. He’s a feeder, and whether she wants to or not, she’s become a new outlet for him. Someone to take care of, even though he already shoulders so much.

Bolt walks up to us, knowing better than to jump on the couch, and then rests his head in her lap, the sound of his tail thumping against the coffee table loud.

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” I murmur, chuckling as she scratches behind his ear and his tongue lolls out. “Well, another one anyway.”

I love the way her cheeks flush, the colour deepening as Blaine comes to sit on her other side, squashing her between us. If anything, rather than protesting, her body relaxes more, telling me that she’s as at ease with us as we are with her.

“Will you come to the Pound with me tomorrow?” I ask as I find us something to stream. “I usually work there on Saturdays and it’s Wallace’s day off so he won’t be around to see you.” Her brows smooth out when I tell her the last part, and I hate that we have to keep our connection a secret but understand that it’s for her safety more than anything. After what she told us about how her dad locks her in a dark room for days on end with nothing but water, I know none of us want to put her in his sights any more than she is.

“That would be lovely,” she tells me, pausing, and then a bright smile tugs her lips upwards. “The Pound is a charity, right?” I nod. “Then if I become one of its benefactors, it won’t be strange at all for me to be there.”

“Benefactors?” I ask, my forehead creasing.

“Yes, rich people are always encouraged to give to charity, some kind of tax avoidance thing, I think. Mother is on the board of several charitable organisations across the globe and says it looks good, so I can make the Pound one of my charities.” Scooching forward, she grabs her phone out of her back pocket. “Do you have the bank details of the Pound?”

She blinks at me and my brows dip. “Why would you need those, sugar?”

“To make a donation, silly.” She giggles, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. “So if anyone questions me being there tomorrow we have a reason.”

Blinking, I get my phone out of my jeans and grab the details.

“Would fifty be reasonable?” she asks, looking up at me, her brows furrowed.

“Fifty dollars? Sure, that would be amazing,” I tell her, thinking of the new bedding that we could get. Her mouth opens and her cheeks colour. “What? That’s not what you meant?”

“Um, no, I meant fifty thousand?” She licks her lips, flinching when the sound of a pan being dropped comes from the kitchen. I freeze, unable to look away as shock renders me speechless.

“We are not charity cases, Duchess,” Lan growls out, storming over and pointing a finger in her face. Bolt growls at him, but Lan just ignores it as she shrinks back, her face pale as tears spring into her eyes.

---