Sancte Diaboli: Part Two (The Elite King's Club 7)

“Saint…” Madison is at the door. She enters and closes it tightly before kneeling in front of me. “We will figure this out. I promise.” She rests her hand on my thigh, taking my shaking fingers into the palm of her hand. I trust Madison with my life. She’s one of the strongest women I have the pleasure of knowing, but will it still be the same now? I no longer belong here. At that thought, my lip trembles and another wave of pain washes over me.

“He’s my half brother, Madison.”

She winces and all of the life that lived inside of me empties.

“I slept with my half brother.”

She blows out a steady breath of air. “You didn’t know it at the time. You and Brantley are not to blame for this. This is on Veronica and fucking Hector. I swear that man needs to be put to sleep once and for all.”

Even though I hear the words she’s saying, I don’t want to take them in. I can’t see past the fact of what I have done.

“You don’t have to go with her, Saint. If you don’t want to live here, you can move in with Bishop and me. You know he will do anything for you.”

I squeeze her hand with mine. “She won’t stop. She’s done this for a reason, and I need to know what that reason is.”

Madison tilts her head. “You’re going there to find out?”

I tuck my hair behind my ear and tug on the roll of toilet paper to wipe my face. “Yes. And then when I find out why I’m getting visions of her and who this man is I keep seeing—” I pause, closing my mouth. Scorching flames blister over my throat and I can’t find the words to say. My heart is literally broken. I rest my palm over my chest and feel the slowing pitter-patter of beats in my chest. It feels abnormal.

I can’t say the words to her.

“Then you will come with Bishop and me?”

I smile, even though it physically pains me to do so. “Yes, then I will.”

We both stand and make our way back out to the main entrance area of the house. Deep inside my head, I hoped I’d walk out to a bloodbath, but then I would never get the answers I need.

Bishop’s eyes run over me quickly before he turns back to Veronica. “You can’t take her.”

I wipe the tears from my cheeks before looking up at Veronica. “It’s fine, Bishop. I’ll—I’ll be fine.” I pull both Tillie and Madison, and then finally Bailey into a hug. “Where’s Abel?”

“I don’t know,” Bailey says absently, squeezing her eyes closed before opening them. “It’s why I wanted to go out tonight to distract me from the fact I haven’t heard from him.”

Everything she says is white noise to me. Maybe I’m being selfish, or maybe it’s my defense mechanism kicking in, but I can’t hear anything or see anyone past the fact Brantley is my half brother.

I finally bring my hands to Bishop, whose eyes are pained and hard on me. He shakes his head, his jaw clenched and his cheeks tight. He’s angry. I know that. They all are.

I run my thumbs over his cheeks, keeping eye contact. I’ll be fine.

He relaxes slightly.

“All right, I don’t have all night and we have work to do.” Veronica gestures to a black Range Rover. “Come on, Hecate. Let’s get you home.”

Brantley

I had two options before I walked into The Palace. One, I could kill Hector on the spot and talk later, or two, I could wait. Study his answers, move around the words he says to find the truth in his lies. He’s good at that. Lying. Bishop is filling Hector in on what happened, though he doesn’t need to. Hector is no longer holding the gavel, but Bishop being Bishop, he wants to keep his father close.

Me? Not so much.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you…” I say to Bishop, my finger working my upper lip to hide the smirk on my face. If I don’t think about her, about everything that just happened, it doesn’t exist. She never existed.

Bishop’s eyes narrow on me, pausing mid-sentence with Hector. Hector shuffles in his seat. “You shouldn’t.”

I glare at Hector. “Oh, no… I should. You see, I wanted to be the one to destroy you if you had done anything to put Saint in harm’s way, but I realized something. You were counting on that. Because if there’s one thing you cannot stand, that’s Bishop being angry with you.”

“What the fuck are you both talking about?” Bishop hisses, and Nate moves around the other side of Hector. Nate is like a shark when it comes to murder. He can smell it. Sense it. Revel in it. Feast in it. He’s exactly as his last name is translated. Evil.