Page 211 of Vicious Saint
“Saint, come on, now,” Annalie chimes in. “I’ll be with her the whole time.”
“You smokin’ something good, Seven?” He invades Annalie’s space. “Getting involved in my family business?”
Hearing Saint refer to this bitch by a number is one of the very few strands of hope I have left.
“It’s a great opportunity to get to know the cheerleaders, Saint. Annalie said it’s not too late for me to join the squad.”
“Totally not too late.” Annalie winks at Theory. “I got you, girl.”
Everyone, including my mother, flinches when Saint rips Annalie to his chest, demanding she, and I quote, “fuck off before he breaks one of the legs she uses to fly with.”
As much as I’m sure Vic’s been banking on a less hostile version of this moment, he throws out a warning for him to let her go.
With a nasty glare at Annalie, Saint listens, leaving the bitch tripping over her feet as she leaves.
My mother has been sheltered by Vic to never have witnessed Saint in action beyond outbursts at the dining room table, and the hand clutching her chest proves it.
As for the rest of us…just your typical Friday night.
“Why’d you have to do that, Saint?” Theory whines. “You ruined my chance at joining the squad.”
“You never stood a fucking chance, Theory. I’ll torch the school before letting you put on those short ass uniforms.”
“Daddy said I could!”
Vic slides his hands in his pants pockets. “I said I’ll consider it.”
“There’s nothing to fucking consider.” Saint’s eyes darts to his father, then his sister. “You go to classes, then back to the dorm. The mansion on weekends. Exactly how it’s been.”
“After weeks of silence, suddenly you wanna get involved. Why?”
“I’m sure your brother has his reasons, Theory,” Vic insists.
The fact that this man is allowing Saint to make such harsh demands over his own daughter, speaks volumes on who’s really in charge and how controlling Saint truly is over his sister.
Something I used to feel bad about.
But now I could give a shit less because she sucks.
“Yeah…” Theory folds her arms. “And I bet they have something to do with a specificsomeone.”
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know who she’s referring to.
The resting scowl on me is strong with this one.
“How about we save this conversation for when we’re in private?” Vic suggests with a cautious glance at Theory. “Maybe over dinner?”
“Oh, hell no,” Archer whispers in my ear. “I love you, Hen, but you’re on your own with this one.”
“Shut it,” I whisper back to him.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Mom says, her lips widening into a nervous smile. “We can continue to celebrate the big win.”
Saint wrenches his helmet off the bench. “Tonight’s a big night for the team. I’m needed at the bonfire.”
And just like that, her smile falls, attention aimed at me.
“Well, how about you guys?”
