Page 311 of Vicious Saint
40
Hendrix
Saint and I ended up spending the rest of the night at the studio, blessing every surface we could until passing out in exhaustion.
Did nothing to help me recharge, hence why I’m dragging my flats along the floor on my way to the dining hall where I know Saint is waiting for me.
“Just need to stop at the bathroom,” I tell Carlo with an incline of my head toward the door, knowing it’s best to handle biz now before Saint takes my need to piss as an open invitation for a stall fuck.
Something he’s tried on many occasions, being denied each time.
He’s fucked a disturbing amount of girls in each of them.
And I refuse to become a sex statistic.
Carlo, as unapologetic as ever, steps inside the bathroom first, scouting the small space as girls scream at him to get out.
He doesn’t, half because he doesn’t understand, and the other half because he doesn’t give a shit. When my darling reappears outside the door, he offers a quick nod before holding it open for me to enter.
I shoot him a quick, “Thank you sweet baby cheeks,” as I squeeze his literal cheek, then amble inside as the door closes behind me.
Looking under the stalls, I realize every single one of them is occupied by pissed off teenage twank-skanks, so I mutter a curse and squeeze my legs closed, hoping none of them are taking a pretentious shit.
How wrong I am when one of the stall doors swing open, scowling at me with her new wide smile, the twankiest skank of them all, Annalie.
Two other doors follow suit as the new minions I’m sure she had to pay to hang out with her, grill me from head to toe. Turns out not many girls in the school want to be seen with the bitch who got served a slice of humble pie across her face for pissing me off.
“Something on your mind, ladies?” I ask with a sweet, saccharine, go-fuck-yourself grin.
Blonde minion, who I think’s named Cordelia, is up to bat first. “Besides how bad it is you let your brother fuck you?”
“Interesting way to admit you were never with Saint…because if you did, then you’d know there’s nothingbadabout how he fucks.”
Blondie scoffs, an actual clutch pearling scoff. “You two really are psychos.”
“Aw! Thanks, bestie. Anything else?” I look between the pixie cut minion, and the redhead jealous bitch.
Pixie it is. “You think marrying into one of the Royal families makes you bad ass or something? Because it doesn’t.”
“Who are you again?” I ask, nose twisted in confusion, because I’ve literally never seen this one before. “The janitor’s daughter?”
Pretty sure I remember hearing Vic tell Mom he did the old man a solid for his only kid. Lucky him because I can tell she sucks already.
The embarrassment behind her sneer is all the answer I need to know I’m right. A little pity princess.
“Fuck you, Hendrix!”
With a smile tight as a bowstring, I tell her, “I’d insult you back formally but I still don’t know your name. So, for now, you’ll just have to settle on eat a big fat dick bitch.”
“Do you honestly think Saint is your endgame?” Finally, my nemesis speaks in a catty squeak. “I’ve fucked him enough times for all of us to know he always ends up getting bored.”
“Yeah…probably why he calls you Seven.”
Rage blazes in Annalie’s eyes, making it obvious she wasn’t aware I knew about Saint’s numerical sequence. Well, the bell’s about to pop off on surprise number two. Counting my fingers to myself, I respond in faux shock to her. “Would you look at that? The same amount of times he made me come last night.”
Annalie, the idiot she is, charges for me, and barely makes it three feet before my hand is squeezing her throat. “You sure you wanna do this again?” I jut my head to her two rent-a-friends cowering in a corner. “Or do you trust these scrawny bitches to stop me?”
“Psychotic cunt,” she sputters, right before I slam her into the nearest wall.
