Bane (Sinners of Saint 4)

“Jethy,” this time it was a growl.

“What do you want?” I barked. A miserable feeling of a lack of self-control came over me. This felt dangerous. I wanted to take my imaginary sword and use it. I wanted to become the hero of my own story.

“You have to break up with Roman.”

“Why?”

“Becauth he is lying to you.”

“Why?” I persisted.

“Because the only reason he slept with you was because I paid him to!” His words came out in an angry haste. The air in my lungs squeezed against my chest, and my mouth dropped open. I stared at him, wide-eyed, before the next splutter of words attacked me. He was so close to me, our faces so near, I could see things on his face I’d never seen before. Fury. Frustration. Madness.

“I knew he was the town’s whore and that he was for hire. Knew that he had a café for you to work in. I paid him six million dollars to build his stupid SurfCity in exchange for spending six months with you. I didn’t want him to touch you or seduce you, just bring you back to life. I meant well, Jesse, but he took the money and the girl, too. A girl who wasn’t mine to give. He tried to blackmail me yesterday.”

My back slammed against my vehicle. I cupped a hand over my mouth. “No.”

“Yes. I bet he didn’t tell you why I wanted to break the contract, right? I didn’t even mind about you going out together. I only want what’s best for you, sweetie.” He was under the impression Bane had already told me.

I have something to tell you.

Is it bad?

Just come home.

He was about to.

Darren took a step toward me, even though we were already too close. “I ran a check on him to make sure he wasn’t as dangerous as they said.” He talked fast, in a hurry to get his point across. “And I found out that…sweetie, Roman is your stepbrother. Artem had an affair with Roman’s mother.”

An arrow of hot angry bile shot straight to my throat.

“You’re lying.” My voice broke.

Darren thrust his phone into my hand. “Call him and ask. He won’t deny this. His mother was Artem’s mistress. He is not the solution to your problems, Jesse. He is the cause of all of them.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. I’d never seen him like this. Sweaty. Red. Angry. It’s like he’d lost control over himself. His suit was wrinkly, his hair sticking out in every direction, and there were black circles under his eyes. Now that I thought about it—really thought about it—Darren never quite looked like he had his shit together. But lately…lately he looked even worse. The crumpled clothes. The fidgeting. The long hours in his office. He was falling apart.

Was he ever put together?

“Because I care about you, Jesse. All the things I did, I did because I care about you. I never knew he’d touch you.”

“No.” I pushed his chest, and he stumbled back, his mouth falling in shock. “Why did you marry my mother? You don’t even love her. Hell, you hardly ever speak to her. Why do we live with you? I don’t even acknowledge your existence most of the time. Why do you interfere with my life? Why would you hire Bane? And a private investigator? Why, Darren? Why, why, why?”

He stared at me, an ocean of emotions swimming in his eyes. There was something he wanted to say. Something he knew better than to utter aloud.

“Tell me!” I stomped my foot, allowing the tears to fall down now.

“Because I love you.”

I sniffed, smiling bitterly. “Don’t take it personally, Darren, but I hate you. I hate you and I hate your mansion and I hate El Dorado and Todos Santos. I hate the entitled assholes who rule this town, and the fakers, and the too-trimmed lawns, and the too-shiny mall. I hate that you’re trying to fix me. I hate that your wife is a bitch. I hate that your wife is my mom.” But most of all, I hated Roman Protsenko for giving me hope and then taking it away. For giving me a false future, but also for taking the one thing that mattered. My dad. I pushed Darren again so I could climb into my Rover and leave.

The slap came out of nowhere, landing square on my cheek. It was so hard it echoed in my ear for seconds later. I had to blink to make things blur back into focus.

“Oh. Oh, Jesse, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I never meant to…”

He held his palms up, trying to peel my hands off my face so he could take a look at what he’d done, but it was too late. I was going to run over the bastard if I had to. I hopped into my vehicle, locked the door quickly, and started the engine. I bolted out of there like a bat out of hell, getting out of the neighborhood first, and rolling onto the main road leading into downtown Todos Santos.