Bad Boy Saint (Bad Boy 1)

She stood up and brushed sand off her legs. “We didn’t hook up. Besides, I can look after myself.”

“I thought you could, but then I find you alone on the beach with him? Come on, Celia…”

“We were watching the meteor shower,” I said defensively, standing beside Celia.

“Yeah, right.” Graham gave a sardonic laugh. “Tell me another one, Mr. Comedy. I'll be talking to my stepfather, telling him what you did, so you better be prepared. As for you," he said to Celia, grabbing her arm, pulling her roughly away from me, "you come with me.”

I wanted to defend her, tell him to let go, that she was an adult, but I said and did nothing. He was right to take her away from me. I was bad for her.

I stood and watched the two of them marching up the beach to the parking lot where Graham’s Jeep was parked. Celia glanced back and waved at me.

Graham's threat to tell Spencer made my decision so much easier. I knew that if I wanted to have any kind of future, I'd have to make a clean break with my family. I'd join the Marines and to start a life completely divorced from them.

Little did I know how much that decision would cost me, and how it would drive me even more deeply into my family's clutches.

Chapter 9

Celia

As we drove up the highway back home to Boston, I quietly fumed. My self-appointed champion and protector—one I had no need of and resented completely—sat beside me, quiet now that he had taken me away from the party.

He knew how angry I was that he decided to butt into my personal life. Hadn't I had enough of that from my stepfather? I though Graham understood that my moving from our family home to my dorm at Harvard was my escape from the tyranny of Spencer. My mother wasn't bad, but she was too tripped out on OxyContin to argue with him, and only too happy to have him run things so she could drift in her drug-induced haze.

It wasn't her fault. The car accident that broke her back and killed my father had left her immobilized with pain and almost paralyzed. It was OxyC or nothing and so she gladly dozed on her sofa all day, sleeping through soap operas so she was no longer in pain. Luckily, she had a legitimate reason to get prescription pain medicines, and so would never have to resort to heroin like so many other people addicted to prescription drugs did.

But she had been an absent parent to me and Graham for the past twelve years. That left it wide open for Spencer, bastard assistant DA, to rule over us like we were his own personal fiefdom. He seemed to take delight in his control over me, so that I was nothing more than a peasant under his authoritarian control.

I’d thought that when Graham took me to Hunter's family house on Cape Ann, I'd finally be free to be an adult. I had such a great day talking to Hunter and then, when I had some alone time with him, finally getting kissed—really kissed, and by my lifelong crush. Then, Graham butted in.

I'd never been so mortified in all my life as I was by the way Graham treated Hunter. It was really low.

Graham and Hunter had been the two best friends in all the world for most of their lives. Then Spencer, that bastard, got in between them, threatening to go after Spencer's dad unless Graham cut ties with Hunter completely after grad school.

I hated him.

If my mother had been healthy, there was no way she would have let him force Graham to cut Hunter out of his life. If they had started a business the way they’d always planned, Hunter would stay in Boston. They would have kept the business totally separate from the Saint family business, and done things right. No one wanted to be clean more than Hunter did. Hadn't Graham said that again and again?

Then Spencer put an end to that dream. And because of that, Hunter would now join the Marines…

We arrived at the house in Boston, and I rushed in without a word to Graham, I was still so mad. I thought I could slip in, say hi to mom, and then sneak into my bedroom without running into Spencer, who was usually holed up in his mahogany-lined office on the second floor, but I was wrong. My back was to the door while I unpacked my bag, so I didn’t see him march into my room.

"What's this I hear about you and that Saint thug?" Spencer said, his hands on his hips. "Haven't I told you again and again that he's off limits? His family's corrupt and I don't want Graham to have anything to do with him or the brothers. Then Graham tells me that you were alone with him and were kissing him?"

I turned back to my bag, my cheeks hot. He strode over to the bed and grabbed me roughly, turning me to face him.

"Answer me! What did you think you were doing?"

"None of your damn business," I said, and straightened up, pulling my arm away. "I'm an adult and you have no authority over me so leave me alone."

He slapped me across the face, his hand landing with a solid thwack. I staggered back and held my cheek, my eyes filling with tears.

"I got you into Harvard, so I do have authority over you, you little slut," Spencer hissed, spraying saliva with each word. "You disobey me, you bring discredit to this family with any slutty ways, and I'll pull the plug and you'll never go to Harvard Law."

I turned back, tears streaming down my cheeks, and finished unpacking my beach bag. Spencer stood behind me, and I could almost feel the anger radiating off him. At times like this, when Spencer got violent, I knew not to say another word or I’d get a second slap—and maybe this time, it would be a lot harder.

When I was done, I slipped by him, making for the bathroom. I was so angry at that moment that I couldn’t speak. I heard Spencer leave the room and I finally relaxed, glad I'd gotten off lightly.

Then I popped into my mom's room, only to find her asleep, the lights dim. I didn't want to wake her, so I carefully closed the door and went to the kitchen. Graham and Spencer were in the dining room, standing in the doorway leading to the deck. When they saw me at the fridge, Spencer