Page 21 of The Tenth Circle (Vicious Saint: Prelude)

“Thanks.” She dips her eyes to where mine have landed, and adds, “You can try them on if you want to.”

The shake of my head is vigorous. “No way, I will not risk stretching them out.”

She examines the socks covering my feet, then scoffs. “Girl, please. You must be what? Size seven? I’m six and a half and they run big.” Already pulling the boots off she says, “Not worried at all.”

Guilt wrenches my insides once again, and I push off the nightstand, stepping far enough away for her to take the hint.

Theory frowns, not so much offended but disappointed. “Well, I’ll leave them here if you change your mind. I never had any girls in my life to share shoes with so I got a little excited.”

The more I listen to her speak, the more I find tiny quirks in her speech. Soft on articulation, opened ended on R’s.

All of which could be easily mistaken for an accent picked up from years living abroad.

Fuck, man.

If I could punch myself in the face right now, I would.

But that would be weird, and likely she’d stop me.

Not quite deserving of her compassion just yet, I ignore the intrusive thought and return to the conversation. “I’m sure you have friends from school.”

She shrugs. “Not really.”

I guess it makes sense…girls in some catholic boarding school are probably a lot more bored.

Which means having a lot more time to target their victims.

Returning to my perch, I reply, “Eh. People are overrated, anyway.”

“Yeah, I never would’ve gone if I had the choice.”

I don’t even need to ask this question, but I do anyway.

“Who forced you?”

“Daddy, mostly. But Saint didn’t really help.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry.”

A glimmer of light stretches across her face.

“Don’t be. I have a lot more hope now that Daddy allowed me to come home.”

“What made him change his mind?”

She looks my way, then focuses on the wall behind me. “If I had to guess, your mom.”

My mom?

Why would she have any say in this decision?

“She talk him into it or somethin’?”

“Nah. I’m guessing her presence was enough. Daddy has been wanting a mother figure for us in the house for a long time. Ever since we lost ours.”

How did I not know Saint’s mom died?

Why did I never ask?

’Cause you were too busy baiting him.

Trying my best not to eyeroll my conscience, I tell her, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, she’s not dead. Just gone.”

Not. Helping. The guilt here, Theory.

“Uh, shit. Sorry.”

She snickers. “Stop apologizing. Not your fault she sucks.”

With a lift of my shoulder, I slide next to her on the bed, human instinct taking over my need for distance.

“If it helps, my dad sucks too.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Kinda does.”

Twirling my fingers together, I tell her, “He’s been locked up since I was a baby.”

I leave out the mafia detail, knowing how dangerous it is to mention, even eighteen years later.

“Yikes. Dad didn’t tell us much about you guys before rushing us out the door. I figured yours took off like my mom.”

“Nope.” I pop my lips. “Just a criminal.”

“They aren’t like…still in touch, right?”

“Fuck no, she hasn’t heard a peep from him since before he left.”

Relief washes over her. “Okay, good. Because the last thing my dad needs is another bitch.” She pauses. “No offense.”

“None taken, Mom ain’t a bitch.”

Theory examines her nails. “I know my dad marrying your mom so fast isn’t ideal. But I gotta say…I’m pretty excited.”

I raise an eyebrow, the idea unfathomable to me even though my best friend Bex’s mom married her husband even quicker.

A blended family isn’t necessarily a foreign concept to society. But becoming stepsiblings with a guy you fear, hate, and find hot simultaneously sure is.

“Why the heck are you excited?”

Casting a glance across the room, Theory replies, “Because now I’ll get to have a sister.”

Her words slice me open for so many reasons.

None of which I have the means to stitch up at the moment.

Point proven as my bedroom door flies open, shadowing it, a maniacal Saint. Who, judging by his raging eyes, I’d say his hatred toward me is undeniable.

Exactly how he promised it would be.

“Oh, you are one stupid bitch.” He seethes, zeroing in on me with leather oxfords banging against hardwood.

I jump to my feet, and, just as Saint locks a hand around my arm, tell him, “Takes one to know one, motherfucker.”

He pulls me harshly into his chest. “You got a brass cunt between those legs, Jimi.”

“You would know more than anyone.”

“Saint!” Theory yelps, turning her brother’s lip twitch into a full on scowl. “What the heck? Get off her!”

His eyes are on me like saucers, dancing with fury as he reluctantly does what she says.

I couldn’t hold back this look of satisfaction if my life depended on it. And, considering who’s got their death glare on me, it just may.

The flames inside me are burning, though.

Eager to strike hot once again.

“Why are you—” Theory attempts to speak, but her brother cuts her off with a raised hand.

“You think this marriage changes anything, Jimi?” He steps completely into my space. “Some bullshit vows our parents swear before God can save you from me?”

“I don’t need saving from anyone, you raging prick. Especially not you.”

I talk a big game, but it’s becoming more and more evident I’ll be needing some sort of divine intervention to get through any of this…dare I say…family drama?

Theory grows physically uncomfortable, taking a step closer, mouth opening to speak again.

“Stay the fuck out of it, Theory!” he barks at her like a rabid dog. “This doesn’t involve you.”

But of course it does.

All of the hostility vibrating off him has everything to do with his little sister and what I said about her.

Once again I remind myself it was in response to what he said to me first. What he did to Stevenson , first. Still not right, but I can’t lose sight of how we got here just because I’ve put a face to the shitty name I called his sister.

Which by the way, is nowhere near as fucked up as what he’s called, I don’t know, all of the people I care about.

Theory’s face slacks, and a part of Saint’s does too when he realizes he hurt her feelings.

“Baby girl…I’m sorry…” He reaches out for her, but she steps back.

“Please, Saint. Don’t ruin this for me.” The look of defeat tiring her eyes tells me this isn’t the first time big bro’s gotten in the way of something she wants.

With a quick glance at me, Theory bends over, picking up the boots she took off and placing them on the bed.

“The offer still stands, Hendrix.”

I respond with a smile, and she returns the sentiment, then gestures her head toward the door.

“I’ll wait for you guys inside the dining room.”

Saint watches Theory as she leaves, a pained look on his face I can tell he’s trying to hide. Another brutal reminder of how many layers there are to this guy that nobody’s ever peeled back.

Well, besides his little sister.

Solemn Saint is stripped bare the second she closes the door, and in his place, the vicious prick.

“Quite the turn of events we got here, huh Jimi?”

“Did you know they were fucking dating?”

“You think I’d allow that shit to continue if I did?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Please tell me. Which part of your delusional little head has you convinced the entire world revolves around you?”

“This part,” he counters, eyes dipping to his groin. “You’d know why if you were lucky enough to fuck me.”

Once a pig, always a dirty fucking psycho pig.

“Of course!” I slap the side of my head. “The infamous ‘Royal Cock’. How on earth could I forget?”

Saint walks me backwards with his entire body, forcing my ass onto the bed.

His knuckles tilt my chin to examine me.

Which he does…for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Why’d you have to go and ruin a good thing, huh Jimi?”

“I ruined a good thing?” I respond, in sheer bafflement . “Me?”

“Well…did anybody else call my sister a fucking whore?”

“I didn’t…” My lips form a line, hating, but knowing the need to put the words out there. Not for him, but for Theory, and a little for me. “I didn’t mean what I said about her.”

Guess I struck a nerve, because his eyes are doing that beady thing again.

“You think that makes a fucking difference to me? I’ve beaten the souls out of motherfuckers for saying less.” He meets my stare like a head on collision. “In fact…if it wasn’t for our best friends, I’d have parts of your body hanging off my fucking windshield.”

Damn. That’s one gross, but very believable, visual.

Because I have no doubt the Saint from last night would keep my tongue as a prize trophy.

“Tell me…which is it, Saint? Greed or pride?”

He lets go of me to think about the question, and something about it earns me a wolfish grin.

“I prefer lust.”

The heck does me mean lust?

What did I even ask?

This guy is a walking, talking conundrum. I can’t keep up.

My face must show what I’m thinking, because Saint quirks a brow. “Are we not listing deadly sins?”

“No, you fucking idiot. I’m talking about what blinds you from seeing any picture other than the ones you paint.”

He brushes, probably nothing, off my shoulder. “I mean…the art classes have definitely been paying off.”

Each time Saint’s pendulum swings, it carries residual energy from all his moods. The sides of him becoming so fused together it’s nearly impossible to tell where the crazy ends and charm begins.

I doubt Saint even has a clue.

With a hand scraping down my face, I spring off the bed.

“Get the fuck out of my room.”

Another swing back and forth.

“And if I don’t? You’ll…what? Run and tell Mommy ?”

Rage fills my gut to the brim hearing him refer to my mom as mommy.

“Let’s make one thing clear.” I pause, stabbing him with a finger. “My mother plays no part in whatever this is between us.”

Saint’s laugh is nothing short of menacing. “Talk about delusional. You actually think there’s still something between us.”

In no way was I referring to a special something, but I guess I can see why his narcissism would interpret it that way.

And even if he is right…that a twisted friendship or hateship has formed between us…there’s no fucking way I’d consider it a still .

Not after last night.

Definitely not after this morning.

“I was talking animosity.”

“Well, I’m talking nothing .”

My ability to decipher his meaning is cut off by a hand snaking into my hair. “No veils. No escape. No means to an end.” Saint pulls my head to the side, granting himself access to my neck and the hickey Stevenson left on it a few days ago.

A low rumble forms in Saint’s throat—almost as if it’s bothering him. Such a ridiculous idea given the amount of debauchery he’s been a part of.

“Your flair for the dramatics is getting real old, Letterman. So, if you’re gonna fucking hurt me, just do it already.”

Saint tugs harder, making me hiss, but not at all in the way I’d expect. The pain is exhilarating, just like the fear was when I met him, both known separately to be quite dangerous.

But together?

Fucking explosive.

Kind of like now, as his lips descend to my neck, blowing small puffs of cool air against the warmth of my skin.

“You in a rush, Jimi?”

His question comes out so breathy, erotic, that the sound of it zaps through every one of my nerve endings. Sending me reeling in tingles, sweat, and chills I can feel all the way down to my core.

“Why fight the inevitable, right?”

“Oh, for good reason.”

Saint takes the hand in my hair and slides it to my nape, bringing our faces together.

His fingers are the perfect mix of rough and gentle.

Hot and cold. Eager and patient.

Maybe too patient.

When his lips ghost over mine, I can’t help but wonder how he’d feel against them. Or what’d happen if I threw all hate and caution to the wind and let him have his way with me.

Once again, I should be scared of getting this close to Saint, but here I am, indulging in his distinctive scent of orange…on the verge of taking a bite of a fruit that’s most forbidden.

“And what reason is that?”

Saint glances down at where he holds us, a breath apart from kissing. “Because worse things may happen when you reach the inevitable.” He pauses, then, with a smile cold as ice, adds, “Especially if you don’t stay the fuck away from my sister.”

Thanks for reading The Tenth Circle!

This portion of the Saint and Hendrix’s story will also be included in Vicious Saint.

Stay tuned for Vicious Saint releasing this Fall.

If You haven’t read Satan’s Spawn yet, be sure to check it out!