Page 302 of Vicious Saint
A growl rumbles in the back of my throat as I circle the desk, not stopping until I’m inches away from him. “You knownothingabout my feelings for Hendrix, or how far I’m willing to go to make sure I don’t lose her.”
My father’s deep gulp tells me he’s got some sort of idea now.
“I know you love her,” he states with apprehension. “Probably before you even knew you did.”
“What the fuck is your point?”
“My point is, son,” he squeezes my tense shoulder, “as men, it’s our sole duty to protect the women we love, and sometimes protecting them includes making logical decisions over emotional ones. Even if you know it will hurt their feelings.”
“I’ve tried it your way. Look how that shit turned out.”
“Another thing about loving a woman,” he presses on, “is that we have the honor to be able to change their hearts pretty quickly.” Looking me dead in the eyes, my father adds, “But it takes a lot longer for us to change a woman’s instincts.”
This time it’s me who swallows hard.
“Hendrix is already changing, Saint, even her mother can see it. But her instincts…they remain too explosive. Unpredictable.”
“That’s because you’re forcing me to keep lying to her.”
His shoulders rise and fall with uncertainty.
“You may be right about this too. But is it a risk worth taking when the stakes are so high?”
“Yes…because there’s been only a few times I’ve watched Hendrix fight her instincts, each of them being after I chose to be honest. About my feelings, my mistakes, even the monster inside me.”
With eyes wide, my father removes his hold from me. “You told her about Vicious?”
“I did…”
“Wow…uh.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to say, son. That’s big.”
“Itisbig, and also why I need you to trust me when I say it’s safer for everyone if Hendrix knows what’s going on.”
I’ve spent the past week doing nothing but stressing the fuck out, helping my father get answers, and kicking myself about how Hendrix’s attack may have been avoided if she didn’t become so used to depending on Carlo and me to have her back.
Hendrix deserves to have her own too—and I was too blinded by my control to see it until now.
“Okay, Saint. Fine.” My father relaxes onto the chair. “I’ll trust you on this one.”
“Thank you.”
“Under one condition.”
Everyone and their fucking conditions.
“What is it?”
“We do this the right way. I know you and Hendrix are in a relationship, and I’m accepting of that. But, with shared blood or not, June and I are your parents, and we’re a family.”
“Fine. Whatever. Then let’s do it right now.”
It’d be a lot easier for me, anyway, since I’m pretty sure Hendrix is marching the floors of her bedroom waiting to hear about the update I left her an hour ago to get.
“Not tonight.”
“Why the fuck not? We’re all here…even the aunt and the Italian.”
“Because one, it’s past midnight, and two, Hendrix has her interview with Mike at Bromwell soon. Not to mention you have your championship game coming up. I want you both focused before shit hits the fan.”
