Page 107 of Saint

When he pulls back, our bodies are pressed tight, and his hand cups my face.

“What will your stepfather do if he finds out you killed Liam?”

He’s the police captain, and worse, now I know what terrible things he’s capable of when he’s not in uniform.

“If I can prove he’s a traitor, nothing will happen. He values Sigma House above all, and I’d be a hero for protecting the name of Sigma Sin.”

“And if you can’t?”

“There’s no getting out after the first four trials, Violet. If they find out I killed Liam for my own personal interest, they won’t lock me up.”

“They’ll kill you?”

He doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t need to. We both know how this ends if they find out what Kole did. And as much as I wanted that when it first happened, I understand so much more now. Kole wasn’t the only monster on the side of the road that night. He just so happens to be the one who walked away.

“What about you?” Kole asks, shifting the conversation. “You’re always talking to your mom. But what about your dad?”

“I never had a dad.” I shrug. “It was just me and my mom growing up.”

“Do you know who he is?”

I shake my head. “According to my mom, he was just some rich guy rolling through town. And when she tried to tell him I existed, she found out he had a wife and kids. He tried to buy her silence, but she didn’t want his money.”

Kole’s eyebrows pinch. “Have you tried to contact him?”

“No.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “And I don’t plan to. He isn’t my father, no matter what my blood says. I don’t need to know who he is, and I don’t want him in my life.”

Even if my history is cut from a different fabric than Kole’s, I think he understands as he leans in to kiss me again. Our stories are different, but we both walked into this with holes in our lives and a fear that we’re inevitably alone.

Kole rolls me onto my back and settles between my legs. And as he drives in, he fills me up in every way.

He’s sick.

Psychotic.

The killer he was bred to become.

And I’m falling in love with him.

34

Lust

Saint

There’s something about thesmell of blood.

It’s honest.

There’s no more pretending I haven’t crossed a line. No more pretending this isn’t who I am.

Kole. Saint.

It’s all the same—it’s allme.

Shrapnel ripped pieces out when I was younger. And after enough conditioning, I stopped trying to heal the wounds. I let them bleed out, accepting the emptiness I was left with.

That’s why I appreciate Sigma Sin’s initiation rituals. They’re a way to let out the sickness in a way the House deems acceptable. It’s why this basement is my safe space, even as the initiates stand nervously in front of us.

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