“Intervention is over,” she said. “Harlow heard our concerns and she has it handled. Let’s eat the Mexican takeout Tawny brought for lunch.”
Raven wrapped an arm around Tawny. “My unborn son is a spice freak. Thank you for obeying his needs.”
“You’re getting weird.”
Raven shrugged and looked at Lark. “You were weird when pregnant.”
“No, I wasn’t. Besides, I was baking two babies. Personally, I think you got nailed in the head too many times at the Thunderdome.”
With the focus on pregnancies and babies, I could breathe again. Winnie appeared next to me while the others moved to the kitchen.
“You were there for me with Dylan,” she said, hugging me. “I’ll be there for you with Saint. Just don’t forget to ask for help if you need it.”
Smiling, I leaned into her hug and shook off the feeling of being ganged up on. I hated having them think I needed a lecture. They should know I would never be a sap when it came to a hot guy. On the other hand, I worried my history of distrusting men made me easy prey for someone as smart as Saint.
Chapter Twenty ~ Saint
The Chinese buffet was filled with the heavyset seniors, a few kids with very loud opinions about broccoli, and a dozen college students with very loud opinions about how stupid adults were even though they were all voting age too. From our spot in the isolated corner, I kept an eye on the other customers, yet Harlow only had eyes for me.
“How did you get free?” she whispered, leaning close enough for me to kiss her pouty lips.
“How did it feel to kill the fucker who grabbed you and your sister?”
“It felt good,” she said, leaning back and giving me a shrug. “Felt like I had power for once. Made me crave it. For a while, I thought about becoming a vigilante and killing off bad guys, but I wussed out. Now, answer my question.”
“My parents paid, but then the assholes decided maybe they misjudged my situation. I wasn’t a white American so they’d figured I didn’t come from money. In fact, my mom’s side of the family is loaded, so they paid quickly. The asshole in charge decided he low balled my ransom and wanted more. Months passed while messages were lost and people involved in the negotiations went missing. In that time, I got in touch with my dark side. All my life, I was the nice guy. You can’t imagine how many times I helped people move or picked them up from the airport.”
Harlow gave me a great smile, but her eyes were filled with dread at the idea of me locked away in prison.
“I wasn’t a dark person,” I said, knowing I had the face of a dangerous man long before I became one. “I enjoyed my life until the day they grabbed me in Mexico. I was spoiled by a good childhood and loving parents. Nothing prepared me for the pain waiting for me. The beatings and rapes. Being locked up in a tiny room with no food and water for days. If you treat a man like an animal long enough, he’ll either die or evolve. Clearly, I didn’t die.”
Harlow stared at me for a long time without me knowing what she was thinking. Reading her proved difficult unless she was pissed.
“How long did it take before your parents got you out?”
“They didn’t get me out. The guy in charge of the prison got on the wrong side of someone and ended up in a mass grave. I stayed in the prison for eight months.”
“How did…?” she didn’t finish. “If I’m supposed to understand what you’re hinting, I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
“I killed a man in prison. His friends came for me later and I killed two of them. The new guy in charge of the prison decided I was worth more alive. I had natural talents, he said. I could gain my freedom if I was willing to kill for him. By then, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go home anyway. I felt lost, but killing assholes gave me purpose. Eventually, I faked my death during a job and walked away from working for that guy. I tried being normal, but it felt wrong so I returned to being Saint. After awhile, I hooked up with Arlo in Memphis who needed someone dead without it looking like a murder. He needed finesse and I can do that. Anyone can go in hard and sloppy. Soft and precise takes skill and I evolved into the sort of man with that talent.”
Harlow’s eyes hid nothing. She pitied me. I was damaged like her and she wanted to heal my pain. In a way, she had helped me by sharing my bed the night before. I’d awaken next to Harlow feeling at peace in a way few things did anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she said because she couldn’t say what was really on her mind.
“Now that you know I really was a saint before Mexico, tell me what you were like before the Devils.”