Bane (Sinners of Saint 4) - Page 21

Nolan tossed me a narrowed-eyed look. “Fine. You’re dead to us. Happy?”

Hardly. But I wanted them to finally let go of me, so maybe, one day, someday, I could let go of them.

“You’re a prick,” I hissed, nuzzling my face into Shadow’s fur.

“And you’re a slut. Just remember that when the town’s bully replaces your ass with someone who isn’t crammed with STDs.”

That awarded Nolan a punch to the face from Bane. It happened so fast, he staggered and fell down, his ass hitting the concrete. Bane kicked his face with the tip of his boot, and I heard something crack. I barked out a laugh, mainly from shock. Henry half-ran, half-stumbled to Nolan, picking him up by the collar of his shirt and galloping toward the Camaro. “Dude, we need to bail. Now!”

He shoved Nolan into the Camaro and bolted around to the driver’s seat, attempting to start the car a few times before the engine roared to life. He reversed with a screech, bumping into Bane’s truck slightly before fleeing the scene while peppering small bits of the car’s wrecked hood in his wake. My eyes followed the vehicle, dancing in their sockets. I was so entranced by what happened, I hadn’t even noticed Bane was standing right in front of me. But he was.

There, with his long, muscled body.

Green eyes like winter mint, dark and frighteningly alive.

Under the harsh light, I could see the holes where his past piercings must have been. Lower lip. Nose. Eyebrow. He was tall and smooth and youthful. Regal in his beauty. The only things staining his noble good looks were his tattoos and beard.

My gaze swept down to his knuckles. They were individually inked, carefully hiding every inch of skin.

My eyes halted on the dark stain between them. Nolan’s blood.

I looked up.

I didn’t know if it was the air that smelled of grass and adrenaline, or the allure of the night that promised to swallow what had passed between us into a secret, or the fact that he’d saved me, but I didn’t hate Bane like everyone else in that moment. My mouth opened of its own accord, and the words tumbled out. “Thank you.”

“What would it take for you to have coffee with me?” He breathed hard, picking up where we’d left off. Last time, I told him he’d need to save my life.

I guess he just had.

“For you to tell me why you want to do this.”

“I need to fix you,” he said, his greens on my blues.

To. Fix. You.

Shadow stirred in my arms, trying to sniff Bane from a distance. I was surprised he didn’t try to bite his head off like he normally would. He knew how weird I’d felt about men.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but who the hell are you to fix me, and who said I’m in need of fixing?” I tilted my chin down, aware of the fact I hadn’t exchanged so many words with another man for years. I was on the verge of shoving him away. How dare he? But I was also on the verge of smashing my body against his, collapsing into a hug. How good was he? No one had ever tried to fix me. Even Darren and Pam merely wanted to get rid of me. Of course, I did neither. The Untouchable never touched anyone.

Bane took a step forward. I didn’t take a step back.

“I heard about your story. I heard about what Emery, Nolan, and Henry did to you. And let’s just say I have someone close to me who experienced something similar, so shit hit pretty close to home.” He pointed to the space where the Camaro was no longer parked. I thought about what I knew about him. About his bad reputation. But then I also remembered that he’d been the one to shut down the Defy game in All Saints High. That all he’d ever been to me was kind and helpful.

“I don’t think you understand, Snowflake. You don’t have any say in this shit. I’m going to help you whether you want my help or not. And I’m willing to punch every face in Todos Santos if it makes you feel safer, my own included. I don’t want to fuck you, Jesse.” He breathed hard, and in my mind, he was cupping my cheeks with his big, callused palms, and I didn’t even flinch.

In my mind, his cinnamon breath skimmed over my face warmly.

In my mind, we didn’t have all that dead space between us, and our voices didn’t echo against the nothingness of the empty night, because I wasn’t so broken and scared. “I want to fucking save you.”

“But—” I started.

He cut me off. “They called you a whore. What they did to you is inexcusable. You’re going to be saved, hear me? You’re going to be saved, because the other girl couldn’t be saved.”

Tags: L.J. Shen Sinners of Saint Billionaire Romance
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