Saint
BUS SECURITY PROTOCOLS
I’m pacing the perimeter with Fox and Hunter, eyes peeled, every muscle thrumming.
Fox is quiet, tapping at his phone, communicating with the other teams. Hunter is wound tight, lips pressed to a line with no jokes, no spring-loaded energy, just cold, predatory focus. He’s rarely like this, but there’s something in the air tonight.
We make a pass around the stage as Brittney and Tommy finish their last song.
A voice comes over my earpiece, drawing my attention away from the hauntingly beautiful voice of my mate. “Phoenix team, we have an interesting request at the doors.”
“Saint here. What is it?” I ask.
The voice is uncertain, like he wishes he weren’t in this position. “The same man has been coming to the last three shows, claiming he needs to talk to Brittney Ryan. We sent him away every time, but we thought we should tell you this time.”
My heart stops cold before picking up at double the rate. “Hold him there.”
I switch over to the private frequency between just my pack. “It’s her father. He’s back.”
“What’s the plan?” Fox asks.
“Colton and Cody, you take Brittney off the stage and back to the bus. Fox and Hunter, you’re with me.”
All four of them respond with, “Copy.”
I switch my frequency one more time to all the security under my direction. “Team Hart and Turner, you’re taking over. We are being pulled away.”
Fox, Hunter, and I all converge at the exit, but don’t leave yet.
“This could be a trap,” I tell them. “Let’s split up and come at him from different angles.”
I go out the front while they use other exits.
Someone is surrounded by three venue staff members, just standing there waiting.
I signal with a closed fist, then two fingers forward. Fox melts sideways, shadowing along the edge of a wall. Hunter breaks off, looping wide, hands in his pockets, but eyes locked on the target. The man clocks me, but he doesn’t flinch.
I don’t bother with stealth now. I move fast, cutting the distance, boots echoing like gunshots. The service tunnel is a straight shot, lined with cement and metal conduit. At the end, the man is waiting, hands at his sides, eyes flat.
“You three can leave now,” I tell the venue staff.
Fox stays three paces behind me. I don’t have to look to know Hunter is already blocking the far exit, arms folded, smile gone mean.
The man’s face is clearer now. He’s not Brittney’s father, not exactly, but the family resemblance is close enough to make me sick. He watches me come, never blinking.
I stop a foot away from him, body sideways, every sense on high alert.
“You lost?” I say, voice even.
“No,” he answers, in a voice so calm it’s almost robotic. “I’m where I need to be.”
The muscles in my forearms are on fire. Every instinct says to rip him in half, but I hold back. I’ve made mistakes before. I won’t again.
“You’re going to tell me,” I say, stepping forward until the space between us is nothing. “Who you are, who sent you, and what you want.”
For the first time, I see the fear, thin as a hairline fracture, behind his mask. He’s scared of me.
Hunter moves in from behind, arms loose, posture bored, but eyes deadly. “You want to do this the easy way, or the fun way?” he asks, and there’s a bite to it.
The man tries to move, but I see it coming. I slam him into the wall, hard enough to make the floor rattle. My hand is on his throat, just enough pressure to keep him pinned.
Fox is at my side, voice gentle. “Saint. Don’t kill him.”
I loosen my grip, just a little. The man glares at me, jaw clenched.
“Who are you?” I growl, the words scraping out of my chest.
“Not the enemy. I just need to talk to Brittney,” he gasps.
Fox grabs my arms so I don’t choke him harder. “Well, you won’t be talking to her. You’ll only be talking to us.”
He looks me up and down like he’s assessing me before saying, “My name is Robert Ryan. Brittney is my niece, and I have news for her.”
The world freezes. The name is a hammer. I remember the file Fox pulled on Brittney’s family. Her uncle is a former Marine.
Fox’s eyes go wide. Hunter whistles again, this time low and weirdly sympathetic. I release him, but don’t go far.
“She doesn’t know me,” Robert says, voice rough now. “She never met me.”
Hunter is all business now. “You never reached out to her?”
Robert laughs, bitter. “You think they’d let me near her? You think they’d let me talk?”
“What is the news?” I demand.
He turns on me, cold and practiced. “My job is to make sure Brittney knows what happened. Because if she hears it from anybody else, she’ll think she’s in danger. And if she thinks that, she’ll run. Again.”
Fox is the first to move. He sets a hand on my shoulder, a warning shot. My breathing slows.
“Tell us,” Fox says. His voice is soft, but there’s no give in it.
Robert’s hands are steady, but there’s a shake to his voice that wasn’t there before.
“Her parents are dead. Car accident. Five days ago, on a trip to Seattle. I tried to reach her through official channels, but you people have her locked up like she’s a witness in federal protection.
I had to see for myself she was safe and to tell her the truth. ”
The words sit in the air, heavy and sour. My mouth goes dry. That was the night we saw one of her fathers.
Fox is the one who asks. “Truth about what?”
Robert looks right at me, then at Hunter, and finally at Fox. “About what happened to her family. And about who might be looking for her, now that they’re gone.”
Hunter stops pacing. “You mean the pack that tried to force her into mating?”
Robert nods, slowly. “They’re not going to let her go. Her father cut a deal before he died. Somebody’s going to come for her, soon.”
I decide he needs to know. “She’s our mate.”
He nods, not even angry. “Just tell her, before it’s too late.”
I step back, arms shaking. The adrenaline is crashing, leaving me hollow.
Fox moves next to Robert, voice soft. “What do you want from her?”
He wipes his mouth. “Nothing. Just to deliver the news in person.”
Hunter leans down, hands on his knees. “You’re not getting near her tonight. We’ll decide what comes next.”
Robert nods, resigned.
I look at Fox, who nods, once. Hunter gets his contact information, then guides him back down the tunnel.
We walk out together, the three of us surrounding him.
The night outside is quiet, wet with fresh rain. The air smells like ozone and regret.
Fox looks at me, his eyes raw. “What do we tell her?”
I don’t have an answer. Not yet.
Nobody says a word for three full breaths while I decide.
Then I snap, “We’re not telling her.”
Fox’s head whips around, eyes sharp. “You have to be kidding.”
I don’t look at him. I squeeze my hands into fists. “It’ll destroy her. She doesn’t need this, not tonight. Not ever.”
Hunter glares at me. “Saint, she deserves the truth.”
“She’s just starting to believe she’s safe,” I argue. “If we drop this on her now, she’ll shut down.”
Fox’s voice is a scalpel, soft, precise, and cutting. “She already knows something’s wrong. You think she didn’t feel this through the bond?”
“We could make something up,” I say, but it feels wrong coming out of my mouth.
Hunter punches my arm. “So we let her think she’s losing her mind, instead of telling her the truth? Great plan.”
I can feel the two of them closing in, tag-teaming me with logic and guilt. I hate them for it, almost as much as I hate myself.
“I’m not going to let her get hurt,” I say, but my voice sounds thin, even to me.
“Then trust her to handle it,” Fox says.
Hunter adds, “Or at least trust us to help her.”
For a second, I want to fight, scream, threaten, or break something, but the strength goes out of me, all at once.
“We’ll tell her,” I say, finally.
Fox lets out a breath. “She’ll want to see him.”
“Not alone,” I say.
Hunter’s phone pings, and it’s loud in the hush. “Colton wants to know when we are coming back.”
“Tell him we are on our way,” I respond.
The parking lot is empty, lights buzzing overhead, the world shrunk to hard concrete and our own footsteps.
Fox and Hunter flank me, one on each side, our shadows long and weirdly fused together on the wet pavement.
The bus waits at the edge of the lot, every window dark except for the faint gold spill of fairy lights from Brittney’s nest.
For a second, I want to turn back. Not because I’m scared, though maybe I am, but because I know, after tonight, nothing will ever be the same for her.
Fox leans in, voice gentle. “She’ll hate you more if you lie.”
“I know,” I say. “I wish I were better at this.”
Hunter barks a laugh. “Nobody’s expecting you to be good at this, but we know you care.”
I look at them, my brothers. For all our fuckups, we’ve never let each other down. I don’t intend to start tonight.
I shake my head. “If I crack, one of you takes over.”
Hunter nods. “That’s what a pack is for.”
I go first, Fox at my elbow, Hunter behind. We move as one, a line of defense against whatever comes next.