Saint: Dead Souls MC: Prospects #3 Read online

  I looked over and saw a man kissing Sutton. Holding her close. Crying with her as they sank to their knees. I didn’t know who that guy was, but apparently this was where Sutton wanted to be.

  Apparently, we were safe.

  And that settled my racing heart a bit.

  “Amberly, can you hear me?” Saint asked.

  I nodded quickly as tears dripped from my jawline onto my bare thighs.

  “Can you talk?” he asked.

  I nodded quickly, but I was still too shocked to say anything.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  My eyes danced between his at still images bombarded my mind. The day my parents kicked me out. The day I met Vlad. The day I had Mason. The day I realized everything wasn’t what it seemed.

  I shook my head quickly, my breathing raging out of control.

  “It’s okay. Hey, hey. It’s all right, Amberly. You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe, I swear it,” he whispered.

  He stood up, wrapping his arms around me, and I clung to his shirt. I cried against him, feeling everything from high school rushing over me again. That fluttering feeling in my stomach as I gazed into his eyes. The girlish giggle I always got whenever he talked to me. The lighter-than-air feeling he bestowed upon me every time he touched me.

  All those feelings came rushing back, leaving me unable to say anything.

  But I fought them back down as much as I could. Because I knew he’d never forgive me for my secret. He’d never forgive me for why I was kicked out. For why my parents never took me back, despite me going back to visit. He’d never forgive me for why I never contacted him. For why I went with Vlad instead of trying to figure out where he was.

  He’d hate me for it.

  “It’s okay. I’m right here. And you’re never going back to that place,” Saint said.

  I cried and cried. Shedding tears I didn’t even know I had as he sat on the cushion next to me. He pulled me into his lap, cradling me against his warm skin. His strong arms. His chiseled chest. He’d changed so much. He was no longer the lean, mean high school kid I’d fallen in lust with. And as I tucked my face against the crook of his neck, I drew in his scent. The smell of his sweat. The smell of gunpowder. The smell of his aftershave.

  It shivered me, causing goosebumps to pucker against my skin.

  “Tell me what happened. How did you end up there?” he murmured.

  But all I did was shake my head.

  “You guys here!?” a man exclaimed.

  I jumped and screamed, trying to scramble out of Saint’s arms. But he held me close, picking me up as he cradled me closer against him.

  “You guys have to be calm. She’s still spooked,” I said.

  “Who is that?” another man asked.

  “It’s a long story. But she’s someone I know from way back when,” Saint said.

  “Make her a room. She needs to stay with us. She protected me. She kept me safe by throwing herself at the guards every time they came into the room. She needs to stay with us. She’s my family now. She protected me at all costs. Gave me her food to eat. Her drink to have. She kept me nourished when I should have starved. Please, Diesel,” Sutton said.

  Diesel? Was that the guy talking so loudly?

  “Of course. Get her a room. Get her a hot meal. Get her anything she needs. Toxin, Bear, and Grave are still at the motel, dealing with the girls in captivity. But we wiped them out,” Diesel said.

  “What?” I asked softly.

  I peeked out from the crook of Saint’s neck and saw way too many men in the room for my liking.

  “They’re gone, sweetheart. All those men that hurt you, you’ll never have to deal with them again,” a strange man said.

  “But Mason,” I whispered.

  “Who’s Mason?” Saint asked.

  Dread filled my gut as I began crying again. What did this mean for my little boy? Would they kill him? Would they take him and groom them to be one of their own? Oh no, what did all of this mean for my sweet, gentle little boy?

  I sobbed ferociously against Saint as my body went limp.

  “I need to get her into a room,” he said.

  “Come on. I’ll help you clear one out.”

  “I’ll cook her some food.”

  “I’ll get her some water and some other clothes to wear.”

  “I’ve got toiletries, too, that she can use when she takes a shower.”

  Voices came out of nowhere. Women. Female voices that made me more comfortable than ever. I clung to Saint as the sound of soft snores poured from bedrooms. Snores that didn’t belong to adults of any sort.

  Were there children in this place?

  Did they already have Mason?

  “Here. You can stay in here for tonight. There are fresh clothes, some things for you to use in the bathroom. I’ll have Sutton bring in a nice dinner for you two to eat together since you seem to be more comfortable with her, okay?” Saint asked.

  He settled me against a mattress, and more tears fell from my cheeks. It was the first mattress in years I’d sat on that didn’t puff out dust or mold the second I touched it. I smoothed my hands over it. I closed my eyes, taking it all in as I drew in the fresh scent of the room.

  “Amberly,” Saint murmured.

  He crooked his finger underneath my chin, pulling my eyes toward his. And as my neck softly craned back, I saw him gazing at my lips. Like he always did back in high school. I gasped softly, my eyes dancing between his as our foreheads fell together.

  “I need you to get some sleep, okay? And in the morning, there will be a nice, big breakfast. With coffee, and anything else you want,” he murmured.

  I nodded softly against him before his nose nuzzled against mine. My gut fluttered with billions of butterflies as he ran his fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes, ashamed of the state of my hair. Then, he kissed my forehead and made his way out of the bedroom. The door closed behind him before I opened my eyes, finding myself alone in this strange room.

  And as I slowly stood to my feet, the only thing that entered my mind was Mason. How worried I was for his safety. How worried I was for his nourishment and the life he was living.

  Because if I didn't contact Vlad somehow—like he asked me to three times a week—I knew he’d kill my baby boy.

  Without a second fucking thought given to anything else.

  11

  Saint

  Every time I closed my eyes, my mind fell back to Amberly. What she was doing. How she was feeling. I ran my hands down my face as I stared up at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with what had happened tonight.

  What the hell happened to that sweet little girl?

  In some ways, I couldn't process it. How the fuck did she end up with the mafia? Was that why she disappeared back in high school? The thought made me sick to my stomach. Being a sex slave for all those years, it made me fume. I curled my fists in anger and growled through my teeth. I felt the need to go back and slaughter those men a second time, for good measure. I drew in deep breaths, trying to calm my anger down. I needed to get sleep so I could be strong enough for myself and for Amberly. Because I knew she’d have so many questions come morning.

  And so would I.

  The second I heard soft footsteps against the hardwood floors, though, I shot right out of bed. I held my breath, listening as the soft pitter patter of footsteps rushed across the floor. I flung myself out of bed. I pulled my jeans up my legs. I didn’t even bother buttoning or zipping anything. I just grabbed my gun and tore out of my room like a bat out of the fucking flames of Hell.

  “Show yourself,” I glowered.

  However, I didn’t even get my gun leveled at the shadows before I heard her gasp.

  “Amberly?” I asked.

  As I slowly lowered my weapon, her eyes peeked out from the darkness. I slowly set it down on a table next to me, trying to make her feel more comfortable in my presence. From a shadowed corner of the room as she neared the front door, her feet ski
ttered again before the front door lunged open. And I rushed to catch up with her. Rushed to catch her. Rushed to get her back in my arms again.

  What the hell was she doing? Making a break for it from those who saved her?

  “Amberly! Stop!” I exclaimed.

  I leapt off the porch and scooped her up right into my arms. I spun her around, holding her close as she struggled against me. I finally managed to cup her cheeks in my hands as she tried to fight me off, but she was much too weak to even make a dent in that effort.

  And as she panted for breath, I forced her eyes to gaze into mine.

  “Amberly, it’s okay. You’re okay here,” I said softly.

  She shook her head quickly, but she didn’t say anything. Her eyes danced between mine like wildfire as her chest panted wildly for air. She was spooked. Scared beyond belief. And I couldn't blame her. All of this was overwhelming for me, so I couldn't imagine how the fuck she felt.

  But I also couldn't let her leave.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  She paused. “Nowhere.”

  She was lying, though. I knew she was. Not simply because she was running out of the clubhouse, but because she’d never been a good liar. Even in high school, whenever she tried fibbing as to why her homework was late or incomplete. She never could quite follow through with the lie when it came to her eyes.

  Her eyes, and the twitch of her lips, always gave her away.

  “Amberly, it’s not safe for you to go out like this. With no car or protection in the middle of the night,” I said.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

  I sighed as my hands fell to her shoulders. Her bony, delicate, slim shoulders.

  “Come morning, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. All right? But right now? You need some rest. And a decent breakfast in the morning,” I said.

  She blinked back tears. “I don’t have anywhere to go, Saint.”

  I grinned. “Then, why were you leaving? Hmm?”

  I thought I was being playful, but her face grew cold as stone.

  “I don’t want the mafia coming out here. Coming out here and after Sutton after she saved me like that. After you guys saved me like that. I’m a target, and they’re going to want their property back,” she said.

  “You’re no one’s property, Amberly.”

  “I’ve been their property since high school, Saint,” she whispered.

  The sentence made me sick to my fucking stomach. And yet, it all made sense. Why she disappeared. Why she never came back. Why we never saw her parents up at the school again. I mean I didn’t remember “missing girl” posters or anything like that up about her. But I hadn’t paid attention to much during high school anyway.

  I mean I barely graduated out of there with a GPA enough to show people I had a brain inside my head. I was practically asleep in classes most of the time.

  Well, the classes Amberly wasn’t present in.

  A breeze kicked up and she shivered. Goosebumps flew over her skin and I effortlessly scooped her up. She curled into me, sniffling and sighing as I held her tight. And as we walked back into the clubhouse, I tried my very best not to cry myself.

  She’d gotten so fucking thin over the years.

  I sat down on the couch and felt her curl tighter against my lap. She wrapped her arm around my neck, burying her face into my neck. I sighed with relief. Finally, after all these years, I had her in my arms again. And I wasn’t going to let her go that easily. I’d keep an eye on her. Make sure I knew where she was at all times. She’d eat four small meals a day until I could get her appetite back up. Until she could put a bit of weight back on. Until she grew some of her hair back.

  She needed her hair cut, too. To try and cover up the balding spots.

  “What happened to you, Amberly?” I murmured.

  She shook her head, but I tried again.

  “Did you meet someone back in high school? Is that what happened?”

  “Don’t, Saint,” she whispered.

  “I don’t need to know details. Just—I thought about you so much and I—”

  I nuzzled my cheek against the top of her head, but she only shook her head.

  “Have you been with them since high school?” I asked.

  She nodded her head softly, but didn’t say anything.

  “Had you always been… working for them?” I asked.

  She shook her head softly, but again, didn’t say anything.

  “Did you ever—”

  I couldn't even finish the sentence because it was so fucking selfish. She pulled away from me, and it wasn’t until her beautiful brown eyes found mine that she straddled my lap. My eyes danced between hers as she cupped my cheeks. My head fell off to the side, falling into the palm of her hand as I tried so hard to hold my own fucking tears back.

  “I did think of you a lot, yes,” she said softly.

  Our foreheads fell together, her breath against my lips for the first time in years. I nuzzled my nose softly against hers, testing the waters selfishly for myself. I knew I couldn't, though. There was no way in hell she’d let me do what I’d wanted to do with her body for so many years. Not after what she experienced.

  Then again, I didn’t care what she allowed me to do or not.

  So long as she allowed me a part of her in the first place.

  “Sweet girl,” I whispered.

  She sniffled. “You called me that once, you know.”

  I grinned. “So, you do remember.”

  “How could I forget my first time, Saint?”

  Our eyes met and the tension between us was palpable. The rational part of me fought it, but the carnal part of me gave into it. I slowly gravitated toward her lips. If she didn’t want me to kiss her, she’d push me away. Simple as that.

  I was surprised when she let me.

  But I was even more surprised when she let me touch her.

  “Amberly,” I groaned.

  “Saint,” she whispered.

  My arms cloaked her back and she threaded her spindly limbs around me. I maneuvered her slowly until her back was against the cushions and my body knelt between her legs. My hands ran up her thin thighs, trying so hard to ignore how weak she was. How boney her appendages were. My tongue fell against hers and her fingers slid through my hair. She tugged my tendrils softly, moaning down the back of my throat as if she’d dreamt about this for years. My hands slid up her legs. Up her sides. I pressed her back into the couch cushions as her legs spread wider for me.

  I didn’t want to push her. I didn’t want to spook her.

  But I also needed to feel her.

  My hand slowly inched its way up her shirt. And for a second, she paused. I stilled my movements, even though my cock ached. Even though my body cried out for more. I pulled back and gazed into her eyes, watching her cheeks flush. Watching her pupils blow wide with need. I didn’t move a muscle, though. Not until she nodded her head.

  “You sure?” I asked.

  “More sure than anything,” she breathed.

  My lips fell softly against her neck and she sighed with relief. I lapped at her skin softly, kissing her and cherishing her as my hand crept further up her shirt. I cupped her clothed breast, which wasn’t any more than a partial handful at this point. Her ribcage rumbled underneath my fingers as I slid my hand back down, holding back my tears at the reminder of the torture she’d experienced. I kissed down her chest. My nose slid down her clothed stomach, her hips rolling as my fingers looped into the belt loops of her jean shorts.

  And as she lifted her hips, I didn’t even have to unbuckle them to slide them down her body.

  12

  Amberly

  My mind and body screamed at me to stop. To halt. To fight, because this wasn’t good. Because it would hurt. But my heart told me to keep going. I’d dreamt of Saint for years in those molded beds. Those dusty hotel rooms. My mind somehow, in its unconscious state, kept reminding me that sex was glorious. That sex didn’t hurt.
That sex wasn’t from the Devil, and wasn’t used as a weapon to punish disobedient children like my parents always taught me. I trembled as my shorts fell to the ground. I shivered as Saint’s lips fell against my ankle. My eyes fluttered open and I watched him as he kissed up my leg. I watched as goosebumps prickled my skin.

  I watched as his eyes found mine.

  “Oh,” I breathed.

  “Is this okay?” Saint murmured.

  I nodded quickly and his eyes closed. His hands found my hips, and the entirety of his palms engulfed them. My head fell back into the cushions of the couch as his breath panted against my pussy. It was warm. It made my body shiver. And as his fingertips pulled my damp panties off to the side, I arched into his tongue when it fell against my clit.

  “Shit,” I hissed.

  I reached for his hair, fisting it as I pulled him closer. This didn’t hurt one bit. This felt amazing. Like my first time did with him. His hands meandered around my body, massaging my breasts and stroking along my stomach. He quickly slid my thighs over his shoulders, opening me up as the couch cradled me within its cloud-like grip. I rolled against his lips. His stubble tickled my pussy folds. I hadn’t felt this good in years and something quickly tightened in my gut.

  “What—I—Saint—I’m—I’m gonna—”

  My body locked out and my thighs fell against his cheeks. My hands shook in his hair as I held tightly onto him, trembling for dear life. His tongue flicked my clit effortlessly. My body spiraled into an endless, beautiful abyss. And as the foggy haze lifted from my mind, I figured that was it. That he’d want me to return the favor now.

  Except, he didn’t stop.

  “Saint. Saint. Saint,” I gasped.

  Something breached my entrance and I jumped. I shoved myself back into the cushions and my eyes fell open. I gazed down at him, feeling him stop as he looked up at me with those ice blue eyes of his.

  “No-no-no-no, don’t stop,” I begged.