40. Hendrix
Hendrix
S aint and I ended up spending the rest of the night at the studio, blessing every surface we could until passing out in exhaustion.
Did nothing to help me recharge, hence why I’m dragging my flats along the floor on my way to the dining hall where I know Saint is waiting for me.
“Just need to stop at the bathroom,” I tell Carlo with an incline of my head toward the door, knowing it’s best to handle biz now before Saint takes my need to piss as an open invitation for a stall fuck.
Something he’s tried on many occasions, being denied each time.
He’s fucked a disturbing amount of girls in each of them.
And I refuse to become a sex statistic.
Carlo, as unapologetic as ever, steps inside the bathroom first, scouting the small space as girls scream at him to get out.
He doesn’t, half because he doesn’t understand, and the other half because he doesn’t give a shit. When my darling reappears outside the door, he offers a quick nod before holding it open for me to enter.
I shoot him a quick, “Thank you sweet baby cheeks,” as I squeeze his literal cheek, then amble inside as the door closes behind me.
Looking under the stalls, I realize every single one of them is occupied by pissed off teenage twank-skanks, so I mutter a curse and squeeze my legs closed, hoping none of them are taking a pretentious shit.
How wrong I am when one of the stall doors swing open, scowling at me with her new wide smile, the twankiest skank of them all, Annalie.
Two other doors follow suit as the new minions I’m sure she had to pay to hang out with her, grill me from head to toe. Turns out not many girls in the school want to be seen with the bitch who got served a slice of humble pie across her face for pissing me off.
“Something on your mind, ladies?” I ask with a sweet, saccharine, go-fuck-yourself grin.
Blonde minion, who I think’s named Cordelia, is up to bat first. “Besides how bad it is you let your brother fuck you?”
“Interesting way to admit you were never with Saint…because if you did, then you’d know there’s nothing bad about how he fucks.”
Blondie scoffs, an actual clutch pearling scoff. “You two really are psychos.”
“Aw! Thanks, bestie. Anything else?” I look between the pixie cut minion, and the redhead jealous bitch.
Pixie it is. “You think marrying into one of the Royal families makes you bad ass or something? Because it doesn’t.”
“Who are you again?” I ask, nose twisted in confusion, because I’ve literally never seen this one before. “The janitor’s daughter?”
Pretty sure I remember hearing Vic tell Mom he did the old man a solid for his only kid. Lucky him because I can tell she sucks already.
The embarrassment behind her sneer is all the answer I need to know I’m right. A little pity princess.
“Fuck you, Hendrix!”
With a smile tight as a bowstring, I tell her, “I’d insult you back formally but I still don’t know your name. So, for now, you’ll just have to settle on eat a big fat dick bitch.”
“Do you honestly think Saint is your endgame?” Finally, my nemesis speaks in a catty squeak. “I’ve fucked him enough times for all of us to know he always ends up getting bored.”
“Yeah…probably why he calls you Seven.”
Rage blazes in Annalie’s eyes, making it obvious she wasn’t aware I knew about Saint’s numerical sequence.
Well, the bell’s about to pop off on surprise number two.
Counting my fingers to myself, I respond in faux shock to her.
“Would you look at that? The same amount of times he made me come last night.”
Annalie, the idiot she is, charges for me, and barely makes it three feet before my hand is squeezing her throat. “You sure you wanna do this again?” I jut my head to her two rent-a-friends cowering in a corner. “Or do you trust these scrawny bitches to stop me?”
“Psychotic cunt,” she sputters, right before I slam her into the nearest wall.
“You’d know more than anyone, hm?”
“Get off,” Annalie orders with a voice drenched in fear.
“Ask me nicely and maybe I will without carving up your nasty face again.”
I need to stop. I know I need to stop.
The NDA and pay off only covers the cost of one facial reconstruction. But the fire in my belly is already flaming hot and I’m not sure I can fight both it and her.
But then I remember the last time I had Annalie this way, and how much I regretted risking everything good that’s happening by mutilating her. Most importantly, I remember how hard Saint has been trying to fight his demons for me.
Loving me. Helping me through the nightmares, thanks to him, I’m no longer having. What good is Saint proving he’s not a monster if I end up being the one who is?
There is none.
Therefore I release Annalie with a shove.
“Get the fuck out of my face before I rip yours clean off.”
A thought hits me, and right after I’ve got her pressed against the wall again. “Actually…you and your friends are gonna wait here till I’m done. I wanna see the look of panic on my sweet Carlo’s face when he finds you bitches behind me.”
Annalie listens, shocker , so do her friends, all three of them impatient as I take my time peeing, washing my hands, and now blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke at the janitor’s daughter.
“Can we go already?” Annalie says dryly, ignoring her friend breaking out in a coughing fit.
Guess I’ll allow it, but only because Carlo’s on round two of asking if I’m okay. “Sure, bestie.” I put the cigarette out on the vanity, then flick it at her chest. “Let’s do the damn thing.”
Annalie scoffs, trying to walk past me, but I hold out a hand. “Gotta be me first if I want a good dramatic effect.”
Dramatic effect is right, because not only do I spot Carlo outside the door waiting for me with wide eyes, Saint is right by his side with the look of fury screaming across his face.
I ignore the nasty glare he’s got on Annalie and swing my arms around his neck to kiss him. Much harder than necessary to make my point because her eyes are already like fire on us.
Saint’s taken off guard by the PDA for a split second before groaning and ringing his hands around me to deepen the kiss.
“Mhmm, I missed you baby,” he mutters into my mouth, sly enough to commit to the act, but sincere enough to show he actually means it.
It’s been only one period since I’ve seen him last, thanks to Vic showing up and pulling him away to discuss business.
Stupid Vic.
“Me too.” I smile, nudging my nose against his.
Either there’s a fire breathing dragon behind me, or Annalie has officially blown a gasket.
Funny enough, though, I no longer care about making her jealous.
Only about the boy who’s nudging my nose too.
Saint pulls me into his chest by the small of my back, leaving a trail of kisses along my cheek all the way to my ear. Then, low enough for only me to hear, he whispers, “Now who’s publicly pissing on who?”
“Motherfuckers need to know you’re mine too.”
“So sexy cavewoman of you,” he says right before claiming my lips and backing me into one of the lockers. Officially marking the point where everyone gets uncomfortable enough to fuck off. Well, except for Carlo who’s used to us sucking face, journeying twenty feet away.
Saint and I are lost in a world of mingling tongues and heavy breathing when a throat clearing comes from beside us.
I whip my head to the side and find Archer with a bored expression.
“Seriously? Didn’t you two fuck this morning?”
What in the everloving hell?
How did he know that?
“Did not…” I lie, shrugging a grumbling Saint off me.
“Kinda hard to deny a fuck fest when you butt dialed me.”
With my heart lurching in my chest I pull my cell out of my blazer pocket, looking through to find, yup, a call with Archer around seven in the morning.
“Twelve minutes?” I screech at him. “Twelve fucking minutes you listened to us?”
He shrugs, unbothered by the growl erupting from Saint. “At least five of them were before, during whatever the fight was about your skirt.”
Ah, yes, the one Saint’s been trying for what feels like decades to turn into pants. Ha. Not happening.
Does Archer need to know this fight actually took place during sex? No. Would Saint want me to tell him? Absolutely fucking no. But the brat I am does anyway for the sake of keeping him on his toes.
“That wasn’t before , Arch.”
“You must really want me to Halo him,” Saint grits out without looking at either of us.
“Get over it, Lavell.” Archer rolls his eyes. “It’s not like she doesn’t tell me and Bex every unwanted detail of your extracurricular activities.”
Saint’s gaze whips to me, where I reassure him Archer’s lying with a, “Would I really do that?” Whether Saint believes me or not is left on a cliffhanger as the bell rings for next period, which all three of us decide to skip and make the trek to my dorm room.
“So, what’re we doing?” Archer asks as he settles himself comfortably on my bed, then freezes with his arms out to the side, as if coming to some sort of disgusted realization. “Uh. Please don’t tell me this is where you guys were fucking earlier.”
“Nope.” I toss my backpack on the table. “We spent the night in—” My answer gets cut short by Saint’s hand stretching over my mouth.
“What’s the problem?”
Why the hell wouldn’t Saint want me to tell Archer about the studio? The serious look on his face offers no answer, other than how much he means business about me keeping my trap shut.
I oblige with a nod, and he removes his hand.
Archer, thankfully, is too busy flipping through channels to notice the tension.
A single knock comes from the door before it opens just enough to reveal Carlo’s head as he announces the two guests who came to join us. Only one of which I’m shocked since he’s supposed to be away visiting his cousin.
Levi strolls in with a grim expression, a complete contrast to a cheerful Theory.
“Why the fuck aren’t you in class?” Saint barks at his sister, who seems more concerned with the scuff on her Jimmy Choo’s than her brother’s wrath.