Page 9 of Make You Mine

For as long as I could remember, being a doctor was my ultimate goal. So, the thought of getting to do that and also training in other areas was thrilling. The prospect of what being a part of the society meant for my situation with the girl I loved was the driving force and sole reason I wanted in without any hesitation.

Yeah, I knew how to take care of myself in a fight, but I wanted to befeared. To know how to truly defend and protect the people I care about. Especially when the most important person to me was tangled up with the Mafia.

Within a month, I was moving across the pond to work on my undergrad. At the same time, I trained with the top members of The Saints in weaponry, defense, technology and, of course, the four core values they stand by.

Loyalty. Strength. Service. Secrecy.

Four values that are now etched into my skin and my soul. Which is why the weight of the nine-millimeter in my hand is a familiar thing to me at this point. Not foreign, but comfortable. Being a part of this society means you have to not only complete the mission you are tasked with for the elite group, but also to take the life of anyone who threatens one of our own.

Unfortunately for this punk and his friend, he didn’t just threaten one of our own. He threatened the head of the east coast Saints’ daughter. No one touches a woman under his watch, and certainly not his own flesh and blood.

Every member of The Saints has killed someone. Whether we are doctors, lawyers, politicians, pilots…we are all men of strength and loyalty. And when that loyalty is tested, there’s a price to pay. The big difference in the way Nico and the other leaders run The Saints compared to what I know of other underground organizations, such as the Mafia, is that we keep to ourselves unless someone messes with one of our own or interventions are needed involving innocent citizens.

I like to think of us as the Batmans of the world. Even if I would never say that out loud to another member, it's a running joke inside my head. The irony that I dressed up as his mortal enemy only a few years ago never goes unnoticed by my brain. And then I spiral into thoughts of that summer night…when Ashley walked into my house.

The Saints gained its name back in the 1900s when it was formed on the streets of New Orleans. Just like today, the men running it were nowhere near the societal standards of sainthood, but they were vigilantes. Morally conscious criminals, as some would say. They used their power and skills to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, earning them the name.

The door to the basement swings open and rage flares in my boss’s eyes, unlike anything I have ever seen.

“Which one touched her?” Nico’s powerful presence is felt throughout the room as he enters, followed by his son, Bishop, and his advisor, Leo. All three muscular and tall, with dark features, Nico doesn’t look old enough to be Bishop’s father, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the three men were brothers.

Nico’s feet guide him toward Trevor as the answer to his question is obvious by the state of the punk in Trevor’s grasp.

“Him,” Trevor snarls, holding douchebag number one by the hair and throwing him onto the floor at Nico’s feet.

“And what about this one?” Bishop asks as he runs his gun along the jaw of the friend who the guard tied to the chair while I gagged him earlier.

“He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t stop it or seem to have an issue with it either,” I respond truthfully. I love my friends from back in North Carolina, but I don’t give a fuck who you are; if you touched your woman like that in front of me, you would have been the one bleeding.

“I’ll spare you and make it quick then,” Bishop whispers in his ear, wasting no time before putting a bullet in his head.

I wish I could say I flinch, but this lifestyle has made me so used to scenarios like this one. I knew what the deal was the minute we came down the stairs to the soundproof basement Nico had built in the bunker under his garage.

If Arianna’s boyfriend hadn’t comprehended the severity of what he did before, he certainly does now. The begging and pleading falling from his lips is lost to deaf ears.

Nico puts his Italian leather-covered foot over his mouth, shutting him up. Aiming his gun toward the boy’s head, he commands his guards to pick him up. The motion draws my attention to the four tally marks etched into his forearm.

Looking down at mine, I’m taken back to the night he marked me with the final one.

My initiation.

A few months earlier

“Do you vow to always exhibit loyalty, strength, service, and secrecy to The Saints, as a committed member from this day forward?” my boss asks, extending his left arm out.

“I do,” I reply, locking my arm with Nico’s, his four tallies on display beside my three.

“Trent Manning, I hereby declare you a sworn member and brother of The Saints. Tonight, you have completed the final requisite.” Leo passes him the brand to his free hand, and Nico sears it into my skin. The smell of burned flesh permeates the air.

Clenching my molars, I glance down at my wrist, admiring the fourth tally mark that has just been etched into my skin forever. Anticipation runs through me.

I bring my eyes back up to Nico’s as he continues to speak, face to face with me, but also addressing the crowd of members surrounding us.

“Trent, you have earned the four marks of our brotherhood, officially completing your initiation into The Saints. You have proven your loyalty to us by relocating to Europe and training with our brothers. Through your rigorous hours of preparation, both physically and mentally, you have shown your strength. With your dedication to your studies in the medical field, you vowed to fulfill a much-needed role within this society and be of service whenever called upon. And tonight, you have proven your commitment to our fourth and final marker… Secrecy. You accepted your mission and did exactly as you were disciplined to do without question.”

Tonight, I was in charge of finishing a mission that we started over a month ago. We were tasked with taking down the leader of one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the world. He may be sick in the head, but he’s clever, outsmarting us for weeks with his disappearing act any time we would locate him in a public place. I was fortunate enough to land an internship with a well-known surgeon, one who happens to have worked extensively on our target. After several post-op visits, I figured out his escape route—always arriving in two cars, using the other one as a decoy. Once I nailed down his patterns, we put a plan in place. It felt damn good to be a part of that takedown, his chin strap and all. But unfortunately for me, his second-in-command caught on to what happened, and when I went to catch a ride after our team had secured the target, I wasdragged down an alley and thrown into an unmarked, blacked-out car. I kept my cool, remained calm, and didn’t say shit, allowing myself to be used as the bait I was meant to be. Nico was tracking him closely as well, and like the ignorant asshole he was, our target fell right into our laps. Our efforts effectively dismantled the power source of their northeast ring.

“I’m honored to vow my loyalty, strength, service, and secrecy to you and The Saints,” I answer him truthfully. These men have become my brothers and mentors over the past three years, and I know without a doubt there is nothing they wouldn’t do for me and I for them.

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