Page 12 of No Saint

“Have you ever been tied to a bed and threatened?” I snap.

“Yes.”

I shake my head, “And you expect me not to fight every chance I get?”

The side of his mouth tips up before moving onto my next wrist. I don’t make a sound this time, keeping my teeth gritted even when the sting becomes unbearable.

“You’ll live,” Devon says as he packs away the medical supplies.

“For now.” I grumble.

“If Gabriel wanted you dead, Miss Doyle, you would be already.”

“Then what does he want?”

His eyes do a once over of my body, now restrained back to the damn bed, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“You can’t keep my son from me,” I hiss.

“We can do just about anything.” He starts for the door. “Enjoy your stay, Amelia.” His dark chuckle lingers long after he’s exited and closed the door behind him.

I lay there in the middle of the bed in complete silence, I hear nothing from the rest of the house, no voices or music or footsteps. I don’t hear my sons laugh or the little pitter patter of his feet. My heart was cracking. I could feel it. And being kept from him, knowing he’s with them, it was worse than death.

I can’t sleep.

Food doesn’t interest me.

I needed my son.

7

Istand at the door, watching the child in the living room. He waddles around, pulling cushions from seats and launching toys, his giggle echoing in the quiet house.

It was the loudest it had been in years. Footsteps draw my eyes to the stairs to see Devon sauntering down, his bag swinging. He quirks a brow when he sees me.

“Will you explain now why you have the boy’s mother locked in a room?”

I don’t answer, instead choosing to watch the boy again. My nephew and final piece of Lucas.

My mother was ecstatic to have the boy.

“Have you treated her?” I ask.

“I have,” Devon crosses his arms, “Gabriel, you can’t keep her locked up.”

“Why can’t I?” I snap.

He raises his brows, “Is that your plan? For what reason?”

“The boy needs a mother.” I lie.

I had had every intention of killing her and just taking the boy. He would have forgotten about her eventually and we would have raised him. It was quite simple and yet I hadn’t done that at all, and while I lacked basic compassion most of the time, keeping her locked up and away from her son was unnecessarily cruel.

Devon scoffs, “Sure he does.”

“Careful, Cross,” I warn, “I hadn’t asked for your opinion on the matter and quite frankly, I’m lacking the patience to deal with it.”

He holds his hands up and quirks a brow, “It’s your cock on the line,” he shrugs, “Not mine.”

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