Page 76 of The Saint

She scowled, but it didn’t last. “She’s all right.”

Thunderous applause came from outside, and I drew my gaze from her toward the window.

“We should probably be out there.”

I shook my head. “They’ll all be too busy to notice we’re gone. Besides”—I nudged closer, my cock pressing against the seam of her pants as my hands ran along the top of her thighs—“I’m right where I want to be.”

“Rolly—”

My mouth crushed hers again, halting any argument she could have offered. I got lost in her. In her taste. In her smell. In the feel of her body pressing against mine. We kissed like we’d been starved of it our whole lives, and I never wanted it to end. Only wanted to be closer.

With my hands hooked around her hips once more, I lifted her, pulled her into my lap before turning in my spot and falling backward onto the couch. Her hands slid down over my chest as she steadied herself over me, and I became very aware of the few layers of clothing we had separating us.

If those people weren’t outside, if I wasn’t sitting on Zio’s couch in the middle of his sitting room, I would have stripped her of her clothes and pressed inside of her without a thought or care in the world. Being with her had never felt more right, even with all the things that stood between us.

My fears.

Our families.

Our lives in the Syndicate.

I wanted her, and no one but her, but my need was stronger than it’d ever been. Like each day we were together, that need multiplied, until there was no room inside my body or mind for anything else.

Somewhere over her shoulder, a throat cleared. Jael stilled. Her entire body tensed, and I was suddenly aware of the quiet that filled the air. The voices, the applause, that had been outside moments ago, had diminished into nothing more than the buzzing of a bee. And that muted sound was like a screaming siren inside my head.

Pulling my lips from her throat, I peered up over her shoulder. It felt like a knife slicing through my insides as I saw who was standing there.

Jet and his girlfriend, Eliza.

Jet’s father and mother, Giraldo and Rachele.

But worse than that, my own parents.

And standing in front of them, Zio Paulo.

20

ROLLY

What the fuck did I just do?

Jael’s head disappeared from my view as she was ushered down the hall past Zio’s office. By Jet. His fucking fixer. The man who took care of problems, dealing with them in ways that made it appear they never existed in the first place.

Every cell in my body begged me to chase after her, but Zio shut the office door before I had a chance. Still, I considered bowling him down to get to her. To save her the way I’d always done.

“What are you going to do to her?” I demanded of my uncle.

“Nothing at all.” His face was a dark, emotionless mask. Though I could see some of my mother’s same features, none of her gentleness was present as he walked toward where I stood in the center of the room.

My mother got to me first, her hand raising and cupping my cheek, pulling my attention toward her. “Rolly.”

My gaze jumped between the two, but her other hand cupped my other cheek, keeping me from looking back toward the door. Making me focus only on her.

“Sweetheart. Why didn’t you tell us?”

My head jerked back, though my mother held me firm between her hands. Like she refused to let go. Like if she did, I’d fall away.

Disappear.