Chapter 7
PRESENT
SAINT
He’s been crying for so long. I’ve never actually witnessed a man cry as much as he has—it’s pathetic, really. I suppose waking up and finding yourself tied to a chair with tape over your mouth may be frightening to some people. To be honest, though, I thought his man would have a little more balls than he’s currently displaying. After dropping off Sage from her date, I came here to Seb’s apartment to pay him a quick visit. It’s become a hobby of mine to visit the men who do so much as look at Sage the wrong way. I’ve been doing this ever since high school, and I’ll admit, I’ve come to enjoy it.
Seb is pleading with me underneath his duct tape as more tears pour from his eyes. Little bitch. I’ve only burned the top of his right hand, barely enough to blister, and he already can’t take it. Sage didn’t even cry when she was pulled from the house fire that left her with third- and fourth-degree burns. She’s stronger than any man she’s ever dated. Doesn’t surprise me though. Growing up in her father’s club has made her tougher than most people in this world.
“For fuck’s sake, shut up,” I moan, as I stand in front of him, flicking my lighter open and closed. The metallic clicks of the lighter ring in the air. It’s a habit, and I find comfort in the noise it makes. Seb’s attention is on the lighter, his eyes filled with fat tears as they dart from the lighter to my face. Well, not my face. I’m wearing my mask; it’s a skull with three thick black lines that trail from the teeth portion to the bottom of the chin.
As much as I enjoy the torture aspect of my job within the club, this type of torment is my favorite. Torturing someone who’s wronged Sage is my personal job that I take very, very seriously. Kneeling in front of Seb, his blood-shot eyes focus on me as I lift the lighter to his left hand. He moans louder, shaking and trying his best to free himself with no luck. I watch the flame dance in the air between us, the sight mesmerizing.
“I’m sure you know why I’m paying you a visit tonight, but let me reiterate it for you. Never call her again, never speak to her again, don’t even think about her, or I’ll know. She deserves better than you, and I’ll make sure she finds it.” Lowering the lighter to his hand, the smell of burning flesh invades my nostrils through my mask. Seb cries into the tape as I watch his skin bubble into bright red blisters. I hold the lighter in place, and only when one of the blisters bursts, do I flip the lighter closed. Satisfaction fills my chest. Seb’s cries dissipate, but he continues to sob, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. Pussy.
“Remember these consequences when you feel the need to disrespect a woman again.” I rip the tape from his mouth, his apologies spewing from his mouth as he shakes his head back and forth.
“I swear, please, no more. She’s forgotten, I promise. Never again.” Seb has this annoying voice that makes me cringe. It’s a cross between a high school boy who never reached puberty and a man who speaks through his nose. It’s so fucking nasally it’s hard to believe Sage found him even remotely attractive.
“Good man. Now, you may want to get your hands looked at. It’s a shame you spilled that boiling pot of water on yourself. I think those burns may scar. Oh well. You can just get them covered up later, after they heal.” With that, I place a small kitchen knife on his thigh, and head towards the door.
“Wait, wait! Aren’t you going to untie me?” Seb babbles. Turning my head over my shoulder, I smile at him.
“That’s what the knife is for, silly. Come on, now. I thought you were a smart man. Bye now.” With that, I slam the door behind me, leaving Seb to find his way out of those ropes. A loud thud echoes from behind Seb’s door, and I laugh to myself, knowing he’s just flipped himself over in the chair. Fucking idiot.
Opening the front door, I take off my hoodie and hang it on the coat rack. It’s been raining all fucking day, and the quick walk from my Tahoe to the door has left me soaked. Rubbing my hands through my hair, water droplets splatter across the marble floor when I hear laughter coming from the kitchen. It’s Sage; I’d recognize her laugh anywhere. She has this low, wheezing laugh that comes from deep down in her belly, and I can’t help but smile at the sound.
Before I make myself known, I lean against the wall, concealing myself from whoever’s in the kitchen, and listen.
“He hasn’t called or texted you at all? Not even an apology?” Ophelia questions. Ophelia is Sage’s oldest friend. They’ve been going to school together since they were in preschool. Ophelia’s father has been a part of the club for all her life, so she is quite familiar with this lifestyle. I guess that’s why she and Sage get along so well.
“Nothing, not a single word. To be honest, though, I didn’t think I would hear from him again, not when Saint showed up at the restaurant.” Hearing my name on her lips has my mouth curling into a wicked grin. That’s right, baby. You know I don’t take kindly to pieces of shit hurting you.
“Wait, Saint showed up at your date? Why? Did he know you were there?” Ophelia gasps as she lowers her voice, as if she knows I’m listening in on their private conversation.
“No, he didn’t know. He just showed up to pick up his order, or so he says. I practically ran into him as I was leaving the restaurant. He told me to get in his Tahoe and wait for him. I don’t know what he said to Seb, but knowing Saint, it wasn’t good. I can probably guess he threatened him in some sort of way.” Sage’s voice is low, but she doesn’t sound angry or mad; she just sounds indifferent.
There’s a long pause in their conversation, and as I’m about to head into the kitchen myself, the front door bursts open, laughter filling the foyer as I turn to see who it is. Bristol and Frieda, Sage’s other close friends, come running in the house, water dripping from their clothes as they try to shield their hair from the elements.
“Fuck this rain! It’s messing up my outfit!” Bristol squeals. Bristol is tall and very thin; her long brown hair is tousled in loose beachy waves as she tries to fix herself. She’s in a tight black dress that barely covers her ass, and the heels she’s wearing make her legs look even longer than they already are.
Frieda is a fiery redhead, with bright blue eyes that make it hard to concentrate when she’s talking to you. She, too, is in a dress, but hers is more of the flowy type. Longer in the back than in the front. She is a little shorter than Bristol, but her heels make them look the same height.
“Of course, today had to be the day it rained. Mother Nature loves to fuck up our outfits,” Frieda says as she shakes her dress to get the water off the fabric. I lean against the wall, watching the two girls fiddle with their outfits. Thank God Sage doesn’t like to dress like that—I wouldn’t let her out of the house if she did. Just then, Sage comes running out from the kitchen right past me, and my heart stops. She’s wearing tight leather pants, and what I consider to be a microscopic tank top that barely covers her chest. Her abdomen is on full display as well as her cleavage. Her long blonde hair is curled effortlessly, and the smell of fresh citrus fills my nostrils as her perfume invades me.
“Yay! You’re both here! Now we can go,” Sage says as she and Ophelia embrace both Bristol and Frieda. Ophelia is dressed almost the exact same as Sage, and from behind you’d think they were twins. The only difference is their hair length. Ophelia’s is short, only reaching her shoulders, where Sage’s is long, practically touching the top of her ass.
“And where are you all off to?” I say through gritted teeth. Pulling out my cell and sending a quick text to Saxon telling him to get the hell out here. Let’s hope he doesn’t let her out of the house like that. Sage whirls around, her eyes meeting mine in shock. She wasn’t expecting to see me. None of them were. Ophelia practically screams when she turns around to stare at me.
“Jesus, Saint. You scared the lights out of me. I didn’t even know you were here.” Sage places her hand over her chest as if she’s trying to catch her breath. My eyes dart to where her hand lies, right at the top of her cleavage, and my dick twitches in my jeans at the sight. I don’t miss the nudge Ophelia gives Sage, as if silently talking among themselves while they both continue to stare at me, but it’s Bristol who talks.
“We’re going to Capital Vice.”
“Shhh, Bristol,” Ophelia says, giving me all the information I need. The girls didn’t want me or the rest of the guys to know where they planned to be tonight.
“Shit, my bad. I didn’t know we were keeping it a secret,” she whispers to Ophelia, before looking over at Bristol, who gives her a shrug of her shoulders. My eyes land on Sage, her silvery eyes look towards the floor before she straightens up and gives me a look of defiance.
“Yes, the girls are taking me out for my birthday, and we all decided on dancing. Is that okay with you, Dad ?” I love it when Sage talks to me in that sassy tone. I chuckle to myself, pushing my back off the wall and placing my hands in my jeans pockets before taking a step closer to them. I watch her swallow at not knowing what my next move is.
“No, he’s not your dad, but I’m your brother, and what I say goes.” I don’t even need to turn around to know Saxon just entered the foyer behind me. He walks past me, coming to a stop right in front of Sage, making her crane her neck to look up at him.
“You know how dangerous it is to go out dressed the way all four of you are?” His tone is low and harsh. Sage doesn’t answer right away; she just narrows her eyes on her brother before Ophelia speaks up from her side.
“We are just going dancing. No harm in that, right Sax?” I can’t see Saxon’s face from where I’m standing, but the way Ophelia just looked away from him has me thinking it wasn’t the look she was expecting. Sage sighs, dropping her face to the floor in utter defeat, and it hurts my chest, watching her like that.
My phone chimes in my pocket, and I take it out, giving it a quick glance. It’s Owen. The beer pitcher emoji is all he sent; I smile at my screen.
“Owen just texted; he wants to get a drink. How about we go to Vice too. They can dance, and we can unwind a bit.”
“Ooo yeah, that sounds perfect!” Ophelia smiles back at Bristol and Frieda, but my eyes are still on Sage. Her eyes are pleading with her brother. His broad shoulders rise and fall with one big breath before finally agreeing.
“Fine.” Saxon’s tone is so low it’s barely audible. Sage jumps up, wrapping her arms around her brother, giving him a tight hug before her eyes find mine once more. She gives me a wink, a silent thank you, before turning to her friends, and the four of them head towards the door.
“We’ll be right behind you,” Saxon says before the front door slams, echoing through the foyer.
“Text the boys. Tell them to meet us at Vice’s in fifteen,” Saxon says before making his way to the kitchen and cracking open a can of what I know is a beer.
“Say less, brother.” I smile to myself. Pulling out my phone, I pull up the group chat with Owen and the twins.
The Boys:
Me: Meet at Vice’s in fifteen, boss’s orders.
I get three thumbs’ ups before pocketing my phone, and I head to the kitchen for a beer. This should be a fun night.