No Saint (Wild Men 6)

But I’m the expert in this game. Hell, I invented cruelty in this town. Perfected it.

Or so I thought, until my mom’s skeleton was found buried not far from here. Whoever killed her... if dad killed her... Everyone is convinced it was him, but there’s been no proof yet, no definite proof, and Merc’s dreams or memorie

s may be pretty damn accurate, but still it doesn’t—

“Look out!” Luna yells and I jerk when hands shove me back so hard I stagger and almost fall.

Son of a bitch. I let myself get distracted again. Not a good idea in a town where the hunter has become the hunted.

I shove right back, even as I try to regain my balance. Two more punches, and they back away, grabbing the guy from the ground whose name I still don’t know and don’t care to know unless it is to bash his face in, and leave, muttering curses.

My middle finger lifts in salute as they stagger away.

“I had this,” a small voice says.

I blink and turn around. “What did you say?”

“I said I had this,” she says with a lift of her chin that is inexplicably... hot. Sexy as fuck.

What the hell, right? Now, of all times?

“You shouldn’t have come back,” I growl at her, my hands curling and uncurling, my fists aching to hit something, my heart still racing. “You should have stayed away from this town.”

She winces.

“I won’t do this ever again, you hear me? Save your ass. I didn’t do it for you,” I feel the need to add. “I was just walking by, and they were in my way. You were in my way.”

“Okay, Ross, look...”

“I did it for them, not you. So go home, go away, stay away, just don’t...” I shake my head at her wide-eyed expression, not sure how to finish the sentence.

Don’t... what? What am I saying? Don’t make me choose, don’t make me take sides? Don’t make me fight when my penance says I should lie down and let them have me any way they want. I’m no hero. I’m guilty.

Why am I trying to explain this to her?

Or am I explaining to myself? It makes no sense, why I didn’t walk away like I intended to. I’ve no illusions. I’m not the good guy in this story. Not the hero.

“Thank you for helping me,” she says quietly as I turn away, so quietly I’m not even sure that’s what I heard and not the wind in the trees behind me.

Didn’t she realize they used her as bait to get to me? That this is all because of me, and she just thanked me for it?

Chapter Seven

Luna

Arriving home feels like walking through a dream. When Dad asks why I was late, I give him a vague reply about staying late to help out at the diner.

I’m shaking so bad I have to stop at my bedroom door and take some deep breaths before I step inside. Throwing my small backpack in a corner, I let myself fall on the bed, on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

It still has glowing stars, remnants of my childhood. Dad stuck them there long ago. They light up my nights, when I can’t sleep. I count them like others count sheep, naming them.

But right now it’s not dark enough, and their light doesn’t shine.

Didn’t expect to be bullied again, to be cornered and be called names. Didn’t expect anyone to save me, least of all my nemesis.

Ross.

“I didn’t do it for you. You were in my way.”