Page 47 of Saint

“Jesus. That’s awful.”

“After those fuckers locked me in a dark closet for three days, I ran away. To this day, I’m still not great when I see a rat. And you saw what happened in that tunnel. Small spaces usually trigger panic.”

“You’re probably claustrophobic. How could you not be?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t talk about it. Just do my best to avoid tight spots.”

“You’re not the only one who’s had panic attacks,” she confided softly. His fingers froze their caressing circles. “My father was adamant I go to law school even though I wanted to get my degree in business. I’ve never been able to stand up to him and I convinced myself I might like it. That if I did what he wanted then maybe I’d finally gain his love and approval.”

“And?”

“And I hated it so much. I would freak out, especially if I had to stand up and present an argument. It got so bad, I started skipping classes. My grades tanked, but he never knew, never noticed. I held out for two years then couldn’t take it anymore. The idea of telling my father made me break out in hives, but I knew I had to face him. My friend Liv finally convinced me to do it because I was so miserable, I was making myself sick.”

“How did he take it?”

“He was furious. Called me ungrateful and worthless.”

“I’m glad you stuck up for yourself. It’s not always an easy thing to do.”

“Especially not when your father is Chadwick Carlisle. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell him to eat a bag of dicks?”

A laugh burst from his throat. “You’re really something else.”

She trailed her hand over a tattoo on his chest. “How long did you live on the street?” she asked softly.

“Eight years. It’s where I met Nadia. We learned to steal and run little cons, playing on people’s empathy or ignorance. Sometimes we had enough money to rent a room after we pooled our money together with a couple other kids. But, I’d sleep wherever I could find some warmth—usually beneath the lights of Kazan Cathedral or near a warm street grate.”

Her heart wept for the little boy who’d never had a home. Although Chadwick was a dick who mostly ignored her, he’d always made sure she had a roof over her head and food on the table. A luxury Nik never had while growing up.

“One day I stole from the wrong person and got my first introduction to the Bratva.”

“What happened?” she asked, dreading the answer, but needing to know. The more he told her, the more she understood why he was the way he was.

“I pickpocketed a gold watch off a well-dressed man’s wrist and got caught. He whipped out a knife and was going to cut my finger off. Even though I was scared and nearly pissed my pants, I put on a brave face, ready to take my punishment like I always did. He stopped right before slicing and smiled. He told me the Brotherhood could use someone like me. A fearless shit. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished Anton Petrov had cut my finger off and walked away.”

Talk about a strong statement. Mia traced her finger over his firm, inked pecs. “Did they give you all these tattoos?”

“A lot of them,” he responded vaguely, then changed the subject. “What about you? What was it like growing up in a big mansion with only a nanny?”

“Lonely,” she answered solemnly. “I never knew my mom, don’t really remember her either. She died when I was only four and my father and I never had a relationship.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to and I tried, but he never seemed to care, preferring to ignore my existence. He spent all his time trying to amass his wealth and increase his status. I was just the inconvenient daughter he never wanted.”

A sadness washed over her and Nik must’ve sensed the way her mood shifted. He rubbed his finger over the crease between her eyes, smoothing it out. “Forget about him. C’mon. Let me warm you up in front of the fireplace with another orgasm.”

Her stomach dropped and she couldn’t deny the wetness between her legs.

How could she say no to that?

???

The blizzard raged on throughout the night. As the wind howled and snow fell, accumulating several feet, Saint found a strange sort of peace. He wanted to attribute it to finally laying his past with the Bratva and Petrov to rest, but he knew it had more to do with the woman at his side. In his arms.

Mia Carlisle entranced him. It was more than her beauty. For the first time since he could remember, he felt lighter, almost carefree. She brought out his inner child, something he thought had died a long time ago when he lost his innocence. Her light and goodness drew him in and she had this magical way of soothing him. A part of him wondered what kind of long-term effects she might have on him. Because the short-term ones? Hell, they were nothing short of miraculous.

It was nearly three in the morning and they’d been talking for hours.Talking.He’d never spent this long talking to a woman in his life, especially when he could’ve been fucking her instead. Granted, he didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much sex. He could be a demanding bastard in the bedroom, and hurting Mia in order to get off didn’t sit well with him.

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