Chapter 32
SAINT
Last night, the library incident was only the appetizer. Sage and I ventured to her room, then went to the kitchen for a snack. Then we ventured to my room, the shower, the kitchen again until the sun started rising and we realized we’d never gone to bed. I couldn’t stop. She’s the candy your mom tells you to stop eating after two pieces, but when she turns around, you dive in for more and more until you’ve developed a sweet tooth, and nothing can stop you from getting your next taste.
I’ve crossed the line of best friend code, and honestly, it was a long time coming. Deep down in the depths of my soul, I’ve wanted this. Fuck, have I wanted this. I’ve dreamed, fantasized, and wished for the moment I could be inside Sage Wilder, and now that I have, I’m never letting her go. We’ll have to tell Saxon eventually. There’s no hiding this forever, but right now, I’m still floating on the highest of highs, and I never want to come down. Not yet. I’ll gladly live in this bubble of delusion we’ve created and stay here for as long as I can.
“We have to tell Sax.” Sage’s voice has me crashing down to Earth faster than I’d hoped for. She’s lying at my side, her arm draped over my bare chest and her leg over my thigh. Her nails continue gently trailing over my chest, giving me goosebumps from the tickling sensation. “We can’t hide this forever. The longer we do, the angrier he’ll be.” She’s right. The longer this stays in the shadows, the more of a betrayal it will feel like. I breathe in a long sigh, the scent of strawberries and vanilla invading my scene.
“I’ll tell him.” I wasn’t sure when, but I would.
“We should tell him together.”
“No, let me do it. I’d rather he be mad at me and take out his anger first before confronting you. I’ve handled him angry before.” I groan at the last bit. We both know a mad Saxon is a dangerous Saxon, and I know the storm that will unleash when I tell him.
“Well, I can’t let you take all the blame.”
“Yes, you can. Plus, aren’t you going to be late for class?” The speed at which she flies out of bed is astonishing. Her muffled curses as she grabs her clothes and looks for her phone to check the time, have me stifling a laugh at how frazzled and chaotically she is moving.
“Fuck, I’m going to be late.” Another glance at her phone. “I have to be there in twenty minutes. I won’t make it in time.” As she is dressing at lightning speed, I get out of her bed as well and grab my clothes.
“I’ll drive you. I’ll get you there on time. Meet me in the garage in five.” I leave the room and hurry to my bathroom to brush my teeth before throwing on my boots and heading for the garage. It’s warm outside, even for it being 7:45 in the morning, so I decide to take her on the bike. Plus, I always get to my destination faster on my bike.
Opening the garage, I back my bike out and am not expecting to see Saxon standing there waiting for the door to fully open.
“Where are you going so early?” he asks, looking like he too hasn’t slept all night.
“I’m taking Sage to class. She overslept, and she’s scared she’ll be late.” His only response was a second too long glare as he steps up beside me.
“Right, when you’re done I—” He’s cut off.
“When are you telling Saxon?” Sage has her back to us as she closes the side door and peers down at her phone.
“Tell me what?” His question is laced with pure venom, his eyes shifting from me and landing on Sage, who looks mortified and utterly terrified at seeing Saxon. Her mouth drops just enough to be noticeable before she slams it shut. Silvery eyes met mine and go back to Saxon in a flash.
“I already told him I’m taking you to class because you can’t set your alarm in time to get up for class.” I pray that my lie works, but no amount of suspicion eases from Saxon’s face as I lift Sage’s helmet in her direction.
“You coming, or do you want to be even later than you already are?” She runs to my side, grabbing her helmet and giving her brother a quick kiss on the cheek before throwing her leg over my bike and securing her helmet.
“Saint, come right back when you’re done. I have news. And, Sage, I want to speak to you after class.” Saxon backs up from my bike, allowing me to start the engine and head down the driveway.
“He knows something’s up,” Sage says into my ear over the roar of my engine. As we continue to the main road, I reach back and squeeze her thigh.
“It’ll be okay, Sage. I promise.” I took off down the road, faster than the marked speed limit, but we were, in fact, late as fuck.
After I drop off Sage, she tells me Ophelia will bring her home since they have the same classes today. I watch as she heads towards her building and sneaks into the door before I head back towards the house. I’d be lying if I said I’m nervous about whatever Saxon has in store for me. I’m not scared of him. Hell, we’ve fought before—all-out fist fights a few times, but I’ve also never had to tell him I’m sleeping with his sister. That’s what made the tightness in my chest more prominent.
When I pull back up to the house, I notice Frankie’s bike is in the driveway, and curiosity sparks in my gut at whatever news Saxon has. Fuck, it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since Frankie dropped the bomb on us that Luther was having an affair with the mayor’s wife.This can’t be good. I leave my helmet on my bike and bring Sage’s helmet inside, setting it on the table by the door. Then I follow the voices coming from the kitchen, mentally preparing myself for whatever is about to happen.
“So, you’re telling me that someone was sending you these images in hopes that would stop you from communicating with the feds? You see, Frankie, that’s where I have a hard time believing all this. My father was already dead at that point, so there was no need for blackmail at all. You knew nothing about his enemies, so why would you talking with Dante expose who the murderer was? Besides, the media stated it was an accident, faulty electrical. Am I right, Saint?” I was leaning against the door frame to the kitchen, Frankie’s back to me, unaware of my appearance.
“That’s right,” I say, allowing Saxon to continue prying for information. Frankie looks back at me and then immediately back at Saxon. However, I can see the worry on his face by the scrunch of his forehead. I agree something isn’t adding up. His story is messy and not making any sense. He is keeping something from us.
“Listen, you two, I don’t appreciate being ambushed?—”
“Then tell me the truth, Frankie!” Saxon doesn’t let him finish whatever he was about to say. I cross my arms over my chest, watching the rise and fall of Frankie’s shoulders from behind.
“Listen, your father was murdered, I’m assuming, because of his affair. No one knew other than the murderer and then me when I received the photos. I thought the logical suspect was the mayor, and the impossible amount of security he has tailing him at all times. I didn’t want the feds finding out about the mayor and his wife’s involvement in fear the murderer would retaliate and come after you and Sage. Besides, how do you know you weren’t supposed to perish in the house like your father and almost Sage? What if Luther and the two of you were the targets?”
I hadn’t thought about that. My blood starts to boil at the image of Sage being freed from the house, and imagining that Saxon could have been inside as well. They are my family. The only two people in this world I care most about. My eyes shift to Saxon. His dark glare still holds Frankie’s, but I can tell he’s considering what Frankie had just said.
“I was afraid if I continued working with Dante, the murderer would come back and take away the two of you. I figured that’s what the blackmail was for, warning me to stay out of the investigation, or so I thought. I couldn’t have your deaths on my hands. I wouldn’t survive it. I couldn’t lose you too.”
I guessed that made sense in a way. The murderer, let’s say someone connected to the mayor, who is a sleaze and dirty politician anyway, found out about his wife and Luther. They hired someone or sent someone to murder him, and thankfully, Saxon and Sage were lucky enough not to be caught in the crossfire. Barely. Then they threatened Frankie with retaliation if he continued to help the feds hunt down the culprit. Frankie is, or was, Luther’s brother. They worked together, so the feds knew Frankie had the most information about who could have possibly wanted revenge on Luther.
“My only question is, why keep that from Saxon, then? Why not tell him, especially last night? Why try to hide it even more?” Frankie turns to face me, his expression shifting a bit, making me feel a hint of unease.
“You know your best friend as well as I do. What do you think is going through his head right now?” His question is clear.
“Find out if the mayor is truly behind all this, slit his throat and watch until the last drop of blood exits his body.” Saxon answers for me. His anger is the root cause of Frankie not telling him.
“Exactly my point. Your anger will get you killed, boy. Best learn control if you want to take down the mayor.” He’s right. If we go after the mayor, we need to do it strategically and quietly. We can’t just ride up to his mansion and bust through, guns blazing. We need proof and a solid plan. I watch as Frankie brushes his hands through his hair. A frustrated sigh fills the kitchen as he pulls out his phone and glances down.
“Right, I need to eat and shower. I’ll call you later, Sax, and we’ll figure something out.” Pocketing his cell, he turns his back to Sax and makes his way past me into the foyer. Saxon and I say nothing as he exits the house and jumps on his bike. I enter the kitchen fully then, and sit down at the small breakfast nook table, leaning back and spreading my legs wide.
“What do you think?” I ask, adjusting my jeans and getting comfortable. Saxon looks at me, leaning his back against the island and shoving his hands in his pockets before answering.
“I don’t trust him. He’s been keeping all this from us for seven years. The only reason he said anything was because he got caught. Once a liar, always a liar.” My shoulders stiffen at his comment. I’m not a liar per se, but I am keeping a huge fucking secret from him, and the guilt is strangling me inside.
“Can you get ahold of his phone records from that long ago, so we can pinpoint where the messages were pinging off the cell phone towers?” I am no computer genius, by any means, but I can definitely work my way around a computer.
“Yeah, of course,” I answer.
“We’ll start there. Maybe that can lead us to something.” I stand from the chair and start towards my room, where my laptop is. Saxon’s next question causes me to freeze in my tracks.
“Are you messing around with my sister?”
Fuck.