Page 45 of Ravaged Saints

“No, nothing.” Ethan starts walking ahead, not waiting for us.

I smack him on the back of the head.

“Shit! Sorry!” He stops, falling in next to Max while I take the lead.

It’s a long way back to the base, with only a few stops to rest. No sleep until we’re home, and it will still take us a full day.

I used to enjoy these trips into town—the adrenaline, the freedom from the base—but now my head’s elsewhere with Aspen.

I let out a breath.

“You okay there, Reaper?” Max steps up next to me.

“Yeah, just a lot on my mind.” I keep walking, my eyes focused on the path.

“Aspen, or…?” He doesn’t finish the sentence because we hear footsteps behind us—the sound of cracking wood and leaves.

We dive into the bushes. Max takes the right side while I kneel to the left, under a branch, and Ethan lies flat on the ground, covering himself under a bush.

Rifles up, we spot two men, young, early twenties. They stop and look around; they’re searching for us.

Their jackets bear an insignia: a skull with two crow heads perched on top. This isn’t good; usually only Hunters wear insignias.

They nod toward the side where Max is hiding, and I get my rifle ready to shoot. It’s a fucked-up situation I’ve been trying to avoid. If we kill them, their group will know someone else is around, and even though the base is hidden deep in the forest, they might find it. If we don’t kill them and they get to Max…

I can’t let that happen as I’m about to step in; they snap their heads around, a voice calling out behind them.

“Coming!” one of them replies, and they walk away. I let out a sigh of relief.

That was close.

“You saw that insignia?” Max asks, coming from behind the tree.

Ethan barely glances at it. “Probably just some wannabe gang. Don’t sweat it.”

“You don’t seem worried.” I swing my rifle to my back.

Ethan shrugs. “Why would I be? They’re gone, and nothing happened.”

My eyes narrow. There is something about Ethan that isn’t sitting right lately, but now’s not the time to press it.

It’s been hours; the sun is setting, and we stop to eat and rest.

“So, you and Bryn?” Max asks, biting into an apple as Ethan shrugs off his backpack and sits on the ground, a grin on his face.

“Yeah.” He shrugs, turning to face me. “She wanted it. I didn’t force anything.”

I smirk. “I know, Kid. Don’t worry.” I wink at him. Ethan might be a dick, but he’s not an abuser, and I know Bryn wasn’t forced into anything. She was into him the moment she laid her eyes on him. He’s got that Prince Charming look—blond hair, blue eyes, lean build, babyface, and full of tattoos, a modern-day Prince Charming.

It’s funny, though. Aspen, the innocent-looking one, didn’t give him the time of day. How fucking ironic. The vixen goes for the kid, and the sweet one gravitates toward Dante and Max.

Her moans still echo in my head. Fuck, she sounded like an angel, and all I want is to drag her to hell with me and make her scream my name.

“What about Aspen?” Ethan asks, his eyes darting between me and Max. “Are any of you into her?”

The answer is obvious. Apparently, we all are, except for Ethan and maybe Ryker.

“It’s pussy.” I shrug, trying to sound unbothered. “And she’s playing hard to get.”

---