Page 11 of Break My Rules

“Of course.” I flush. I really don’t belong here. “Sorry. I’ll leave now. Everyone at Ashford sends their best,” I add to Alexander, and turn to leave.

I make it down the hallway and am waiting for the elevator again when Saint emerges, slowly walking over to me.

My heart catches in my throat. “Hi,” I say softly, searching his face for some hint of emotion. “How are you holding up?”

He offers a faint ghost of a smile. “I’ve been better, to tell the truth.”

“I can imagine.”

There’s a long pause, and I try to think of where I can even begin. “Can we talk?” I ask hopefully, gazing up at him. There’s a forcefield between us, a distance I wish I could broach.

Saint looks down at me, and seems to soften, just a little. He nods. “Not here, though,” he says, glancing back toward his father’s room. “I need to get some air.”

“I saw a café downstairs,” I offer, and he nods.

“Let’s go.”

We makeour way down to the lobby in silence, and out to the café, where Saint buys an overpriced sandwich, and I get a yogurt and granola. We find a table in the little courtyard and sit, but I can’t eat anything. I’m too focused on Saint, and the heavy weight playing on his features as he looks at me across the table.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt, my heart aching. “Accusing you like that, of hurting Wren. I just didn’t know what else to think. That tattoo is the only real detail she remembers about her attacker, and when I saw it on you… I panicked. You have to understand, it all seemed to line up,” I add, needing him to understand why I could turn against him like that. “But even when I put all the pieces together, a part of me couldn’t believe it,” I swear. “Wouldn’t believe you were capable of doing something like that. I know that’s probably no consolation,” I add, rueful, but Saint offers me a nod.

“It is, actually.”

I blink, surprised. “You mean, you don’t hate me?”

Saint’s brow knits in a frown. “Of course not. Was I shocked and hurt at the time? Yes, of course. The fact you would think I was lying to you, that I could have hurt Wren…” Saint shakes his head. “But that’s on me, not you. You were just following the evidence. I would have jumped to exactly the same conclusion if I was in your shoes.”

I exhale in a massive sigh of relief. He doesn’t hate me. He understands. “Then why didn’t you call me?” I ask, reaching for his hand. Instinctively, I curl my fingers around his, and he does the same, and already, I feel better, just being connected to him in this small way. “I know I said I needed space, but with everything going on with your dad…”

Saint sighs. He looks down, tracing over my knuckles. “At first, I was just wrapping my head around everything, I didn’t want to drag you into it and make you have to deal with my parents—”

“I don’t care about that,” I insist. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” Saint meets my eyes, and gives me a soft, heart-melting smile. “But it’s not just that…” His smile fades. “It’s the tattoo. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop, ever since you told me.”

“Oh.” I squeeze his hand, wincing. “Right.”

“If the man who attacked Wren has the same ink…” Saint starts, looking grim. “Then you know what it means, don’t you? He was part of the group, when we got the tattoos done, ten years ago. The man who took your sister, hurt her like that… He’s one of my friends.”

Silence falls. I’ve had days to process the uncomfortable truth, but I can see, it’s so much worse for Saint.

“I’m sorry,” I offer uselessly.

“Me too.” Saint inhales, then meets my eyes in a determined stare. “Now we just have to figure out which one of them it is.”

I blink. “You’re going to help?” I ask, surprised by his response. There’s no hesitation, no reluctance in his voice, not even for a moment.

“I told you I would.” Saint frowns, like there’s no question. “We’re in this together now, no matter what.”

“Even if the attacker is one of your closest friends?” I can’t help checking. “This isn’t just some random secret society member anymore. You know him. You trust him. Hell, if you guys got the tattoos in college, you’ve known him almost half your life!”

Saint gives me a grim smile. “And if he hurt your sister, then he’s no friend of mine.” He nods sharply, like that’s the end of it, and I can’t stop myself. I reach up out of my seat and lean across the table, kissing him square on the mouth.

Saint kisses me back, slow and deep, and I feel the heat burn between us, blotting out the rest of the world.

We’re in this together.

“What was that for?” he asks, when I finally draw back.

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