Bad Boy Saint (Bad Boy 1)

I frowned, remembering back almost four years to the one night – one amazing night – with Hunter before all hell broke loose between Spencer and me. Between Spencer and Graham.

I never saw Hunter again until his brother's funeral last year, and even then, I didn't say a word to him. He never once met my eyes when I stood off to the edge of the crowd gathered for Sean's funeral. I didn't have the guts to go up and give my condolences, so I only observed from afar. Even Graham didn't have the balls to go to his former best friend in person, sending a card instead.

Hunter hated us both.

"Hunter hates me for good reason."

"You broke his heart?"

I shook my head. "No," I said and made a face. "It's because of me that Spencer went after his family. Spencer's a nutcase, in case you didn't realize it. He had a vendetta against the Saints, and made them pay. It's because of Spencer that Sean died. It's because of Spencer that his uncle's in prison."

"I never met Spencer," Mark said and leaned back in his chair. "But Graham's told me a lot about him. And you."

"We're the family from hell," I said and drank down half my bottle of water. We had such a nice life before my father died. Then some drunk driver went down the wrong side of the freeway and hit my parent's car head on. My dad died and my mom was disabled. Spencer worked with my Dad and he just seemed to take over and my mom was so damaged physically and emotionally that she let him.

I looked at my bottle of water and wished it was something stronger. I needed a drink at that moment, but that would wait until I knew Graham was out of danger. Then, Amy and I would go out to a bar and get drunk.

"Well, I've got to get back to work," Mark said and stood up. "Tell Graham to take it really easy and not to worry about work. I've got things covered at the office."

I stood up and Mark gave me a brief and awkward hug. Then he left me alone with my worries.

I went to the nursing station once more to find out more about how Graham was doing.

"When can he go home?" I asked the doctor.

"We'll do another CT tomorrow and see how he is, but he's regained consciousness and seems to be okay in terms of his function. We'll know more tomorrow morning after the CT but you can expect he'll be in ICU for at least another twenty-four hours. Maybe on the neuro ward fo

r a few days and then rehab."

"Thank you," I said and went back to my brother's side to start my vigil.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at Graham's side but when eight o'clock came around, I decided to go home. Graham had woken a couple of times during the afternoon, but he was sleepy and the pain meds they gave him made him doze with not much to say.

I kissed his unbroken cheek. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. You sleep now and get better, okay big brother?"

"Call Hunter," he whispered.

"I will," I said and squeezed his hand. "You sleep now."

He moved his head just slightly, enough to signal yes, and then he went back to sleep.

On my way out of the hospital, I texted Amy and she was there in twenty minutes to pick me up. I stopped in the cafeteria and picked up a bag of chips to eat for my dinner. Finally, Amy drove up.

"How's Graham?" she asked when I got inside the passenger seat.

I told her what happened, including the loss of my entire inheritance. She was suitably horrified.

"Oh, my God, Celia. As if Graham being beat up wasn't enough. What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea. I need to find one hundred and fifty grand, and fast."

"Jeeze," she said and we sat in silence for a moment. "Now what?" she asked as the car idled. "What do you want to do now?"

"Get drunk," I said, feeling like I could cry.

"My exact thoughts. Where to?"

"The Brass Lantern and quick," I said. I was exhausted but on edge at the same time. "I need a drink or three."