Chapter 11 Saint
SAINT
Every time I closed my eyes, my mind fell back to Amberly. What she was doing. How she was feeling. I ran my hands down my face as I stared up at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with what had happened tonight.
What the hell happened to that sweet little girl?
In some ways, I couldn't process it. How the fuck did she end up with the mafia? Was that why she disappeared back in high school? The thought made me sick to my stomach. Being a sex slave for all those years, it made me fume. I curled my fists in anger and growled through my teeth. I felt the need to go back and slaughter those men a second time, for good measure. I drew in deep breaths, trying to calm my anger down. I needed to get sleep so I could be strong enough for myself and for Amberly. Because I knew she’d have so many questions come morning.
And so would I.
The second I heard soft footsteps against the hardwood floors, though, I shot right out of bed.
I held my breath, listening as the soft pitter patter of footsteps rushed across the floor.
I flung myself out of bed. I pulled my jeans up my legs.
I didn’t even bother buttoning or zipping anything.
I just grabbed my gun and tore out of my room like a bat out of the fucking flames of Hell.
“Show yourself,” I glowered.
However, I didn’t even get my gun leveled at the shadows before I heard her gasp.
“Amberly?” I asked.
As I slowly lowered my weapon, her eyes peeked out from the darkness.
I slowly set it down on a table next to me, trying to make her feel more comfortable in my presence.
From a shadowed corner of the room as she neared the front door, her feet skittered again before the front door lunged open.
And I rushed to catch up with her. Rushed to catch her.
Rushed to get her back in my arms again.
What the hell was she doing? Making a break for it from those who saved her?
“Amberly! Stop!” I exclaimed.
I leapt off the porch and scooped her up right into my arms. I spun her around, holding her close as she struggled against me. I finally managed to cup her cheeks in my hands as she tried to fight me off, but she was much too weak to even make a dent in that effort.
And as she panted for breath, I forced her eyes to gaze into mine.
“Amberly, it’s okay. You’re okay here,” I said softly.
She shook her head quickly, but she didn’t say anything. Her eyes danced between mine like wildfire as her chest panted wildly for air. She was spooked. Scared beyond belief. And I couldn't blame her. All of this was overwhelming for me, so I couldn't imagine how the fuck she felt.
But I also couldn't let her leave.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
She paused. “Nowhere.”
She was lying, though. I knew she was. Not simply because she was running out of the clubhouse, but because she’d never been a good liar.
Even in high school, whenever she tried fibbing as to why her homework was late or incomplete.
She never could quite follow through with the lie when it came to her eyes.
Her eyes, and the twitch of her lips, always gave her away.
“Amberly, it’s not safe for you to go out like this. With no car or protection in the middle of the night,” I said.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.
I sighed as my hands fell to her shoulders. Her bony, delicate, slim shoulders.
“Come morning, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. All right? But right now? You need some rest. And a decent breakfast in the morning,” I said.
She blinked back tears. “I don’t have anywhere to go, Saint.”
I grinned. “Then, why were you leaving? Hmm?”
I thought I was being playful, but her face grew cold as stone.
“I don’t want the mafia coming out here. Coming out here and after Sutton after she saved me like that. After you guys saved me like that. I’m a target, and they’re going to want their property back,” she said.
“You’re no one’s property, Amberly.”
“I’ve been their property since high school, Saint,” she whispered.
The sentence made me sick to my fucking stomach.
And yet, it all made sense. Why she disappeared.
Why she never came back. Why we never saw her parents up at the school again.
I mean I didn’t remember “missing girl” posters or anything like that up about her.
But I hadn’t paid attention to much during high school anyway.
I mean I barely graduated out of there with a GPA enough to show people I had a brain inside my head. I was practically asleep in classes most of the time.
Well, the classes Amberly wasn’t present in.
A breeze kicked up and she shivered. Goosebumps flew over her skin and I effortlessly scooped her up. She curled into me, sniffling and sighing as I held her tight. And as we walked back into the clubhouse, I tried my very best not to cry myself.
She’d gotten so fucking thin over the years.
I sat down on the couch and felt her curl tighter against my lap.
She wrapped her arm around my neck, burying her face into my neck.
I sighed with relief. Finally, after all these years, I had her in my arms again.
And I wasn’t going to let her go that easily.
I’d keep an eye on her. Make sure I knew where she was at all times.
She’d eat four small meals a day until I could get her appetite back up.
Until she could put a bit of weight back on. Until she grew some of her hair back.
She needed her hair cut, too. To try and cover up the balding spots.
“What happened to you, Amberly?” I murmured.
She shook her head, but I tried again.
“Did you meet someone back in high school? Is that what happened?”
“Don’t, Saint,” she whispered.
“I don’t need to know details. Just—I thought about you so much and I—”
I nuzzled my cheek against the top of her head, but she only shook her head.
“Have you been with them since high school?” I asked.
She nodded her head softly, but didn’t say anything.
“Had you always been… working for them?” I asked.
She shook her head softly, but again, didn’t say anything.
“Did you ever—”
I couldn't even finish the sentence because it was so fucking selfish. She pulled away from me, and it wasn’t until her beautiful brown eyes found mine that she straddled my lap.
My eyes danced between hers as she cupped my cheeks.
My head fell off to the side, falling into the palm of her hand as I tried so hard to hold my own fucking tears back.
“I did think of you a lot, yes,” she said softly.
Our foreheads fell together, her breath against my lips for the first time in years.
I nuzzled my nose softly against hers, testing the waters selfishly for myself.
I knew I couldn't, though. There was no way in hell she’d let me do what I’d wanted to do with her body for so many years. Not after what she experienced.
Then again, I didn’t care what she allowed me to do or not.
So long as she allowed me a part of her in the first place.
“Sweet girl,” I whispered.
She sniffled. “You called me that once, you know.”
I grinned. “So, you do remember.”
“How could I forget my first time, Saint?”
Our eyes met and the tension between us was palpable. The rational part of me fought it, but the carnal part of me gave into it. I slowly gravitated toward her lips. If she didn’t want me to kiss her, she’d push me away. Simple as that.
I was surprised when she let me.
But I was even more surprised when she let me touch her.
“Amberly,” I groaned.
“Saint,” she whispered.
My arms cloaked her back and she threaded her spindly limbs around me.
I maneuvered her slowly until her back was against the cushions and my body knelt between her legs.
My hands ran up her thin thighs, trying so hard to ignore how weak she was.
How boney her appendages were. My tongue fell against hers and her fingers slid through my hair.
She tugged my tendrils softly, moaning down the back of my throat as if she’d dreamt about this for years.
My hands slid up her legs. Up her sides.
I pressed her back into the couch cushions as her legs spread wider for me.
I didn’t want to push her. I didn’t want to spook her.
But I also needed to feel her.
My hand slowly inched its way up her shirt.
And for a second, she paused. I stilled my movements, even though my cock ached.
Even though my body cried out for more. I pulled back and gazed into her eyes, watching her cheeks flush.
Watching her pupils blow wide with need.
I didn’t move a muscle, though. Not until she nodded her head.
“You sure?” I asked.
“More sure than anything,” she breathed.
My lips fell softly against her neck and she sighed with relief.
I lapped at her skin softly, kissing her and cherishing her as my hand crept further up her shirt.
I cupped her clothed breast, which wasn’t any more than a partial handful at this point.
Her ribcage rumbled underneath my fingers as I slid my hand back down, holding back my tears at the reminder of the torture she’d experienced.
I kissed down her chest. My nose slid down her clothed stomach, her hips rolling as my fingers looped into the belt loops of her jean shorts.
And as she lifted her hips, I didn’t even have to unbuckle them to slide them down her body.