Page 58 of Hostile Saint

You did, baby.

“I wish I could have known you in a way a girl knows a boy.

I fought to not tell her the truth. “Me too.”

Her mouth parted. “Do you think, if I ever get out of here… we could be… friends?”

I wanted to rip the bars from the wall and hold my broken-hearted girl. Instead, I whispered, “It would be an honor to be your… friend.”

Nervously sucking on her bottom lip, she finally nodded. “Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow.”

Never had anything been so sad for me as having to climb down, leaving my girl behind.

She reached for me… until I was too far away.

Lacey, the beautiful soul who owned my world, stayed at that window and watched me run across the lawn.

At the edge of the trees, I waved.

She waved, then rested her fingertips to her lips.

Yes, sugar kisses.

Fighting tears and a crying heart, I begged, “Pease don’t make me leave her here.”

His deep voice was so sturdy, I think it was the only thing keeping me on my wobbly feet. “Like how your dad’s blood is in your veins, that girl is your heart. She is with you, son.”

Staring at Lace, her staring at me, I took a step back and disappeared into the shadows.

As Vice drove us home in the beat-up rental car, the streetlamps glowed against my face, faded away, then lit up my paling skin, over and over. My head leaned against the back passenger window. I felt drained. Seeing her had me over the moon, but leaving her behind had zapped me of all energy. “Lynx?”

Sitting in the back with me, he answered, “Yeah, kid?”

“If you are so certain she’s safe, why are there two bikers watching her from the woods?”

He exhaled… “Gut is telling me it’s needed.”

I exhaled, too. “Because of my brothers?”

I could almost hear his jaw lock. “Those bastards aren’t your brothers.”

His anger no longer shocked or stumped me. Lynx, through actions and words, made it clear I was very important to him. Not that I understood why, but I was grateful.

“Lynx?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I’m ready to hear what I didn’t want to hear.”

He stared out his passenger window. “I need to know every bit of identifying information you know about them, because… so far, they don’t exist.”

My head lifted to look at him. “What? What about school records—”

He shook his head. “No records of a Crow or Damien. Plus, your records state you ain’t got any siblings. Did you ever go to school with them?”

Blinking in shock, I thought back. “Well… no. Our age differences kept us in different schools.”