“Hey, man, it’s been like a week. Where the fuck have you been?” a man said.

She heard several more people and turned to see three men she didn’t recognize. They paused as they looked at her.

“Who is she?”

“Natasha, this is Rage. Rage, this is Natasha.”

“The Natasha? The girl?” Rage asked, making her frown.

Had Saint talked about her?

“This is Pea and Vanilla.” He pointed at the other men, who nodded at her.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“She turned up at my house looking like this,” Saint said. “She has an angry husband who she wants to turn into her ex.”

“So you come here to Saint?” Rage asked.

“Look at her face,” the one called Vanilla said. He moved toward her and knelt down. “This is a shitload of violence.”

“I’m covered in bruises. It wouldn’t be anything but violence.”

“Not necessarily. Some bruises would be so hot.”

She frowned at his choice of words, then looked toward Saint. “What the fuck?”

“He’s kinky.”

“But you called him Vanilla.”

“I’m the least vanilla person here, babe,” Vanilla said.

She shrank back. “You hit women.” She was happy to act tough, but when it actually came to defending herself, she wasn’t strong enough. Against this large, imposing man, she’d lose.

“I would never hurt anyone who didn’t want it. There’s pain that some women, and some men, crave.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never hurt a woman?”

“I’ve never been violent toward a woman, even during a scene. Everything I give a woman, she’s begging for.”

“And if you weren’t sure?” Natasha asked, not understanding why she was even asking.

“Then I would stop the scene, bring her down from her high to make sure. Rarely that happens, but some women can be pushed past their limits and not know when to stop.” Vanilla stood, stared at her face, and she saw the disgust in his. “The man who hurt you is a pig.”

He stormed away. She watched as Pea and Rage made their way out of the house, and Saint looked at her.

“I don’t remember them,” she said.

“They were part of the club before you left. You just didn’t want to know the club.”

“I knew it was changing you, Saint. You weren’t the same boy.”

“I know. There’s a reason for that. I was no longer a boy.”

“You can be a boy without turning into a monster.”

Saint smiled. It was forced, and it was fake. “Baby, I am the monster.” He moved down in front of her so that he blocked her from leaving. She wasn’t frightened though. Out of everyone she knew, Saint was the last person that would hurt her. She remembered the time he’d take her virginity, and the pain he suffered afterward for causing her pain. They had a lot of history, and she wasn’t going to believe for a second that it didn’t mean anything.