Bane (Sinners of Saint 4)

The idea that I could be in real danger trickled into my consciousness slowly. Wren’s house was on the other side of the neighborhood. The track was located by a small park with swings and a slide. Teenagers often came here at night to get tanked during summer vacations. That meant that she wasn’t alone. Already, I had the disadvantage.

“You look a little pale, Jesse. Or maybe it’s just you never leave the house.” She snort-laughed. I picked up my pace, watching from my peripheral as her arms flailed beside her body with exhaustion. Shadow wheezed behind me. I inwardly begged him not to hate me for what I was doing. But I was panicking. I wanted to flee back home, but who the hell knew what waited for me by the playground?

“No one’s seen you in a while. People said you were in a mental institution. I was like, ohmigosh, Jesse? No way. But really, Jesse, where were you?”

Wren tried to catch up, but her body was failing her. Shadow and I had the stamina. We were pro joggers. That’s what we did.

Bits and pieces from high school came back to me, falling clumsily into a wonky picture I tried hard to unsee. Wren and I had been cool before The Incident—frenemies who’d played the school hierarchy game. Then she became one of them. One of the people who stuffed my locker with condoms and sprayed the word ‘whore’ across it, and exchanged horrified looks whenever a teacher paired me up with them in lab or PE. My legs sprinted faster.

Shadow was yelping. My brain finally caught up with my heart. I didn’t want anything to happen to him, so I picked him up, all sixty pounds of him, and veered off the course, jumping between the trees lining the Spencers’ estate.

“Hey! Where are you going?” I heard her whining behind me. I knew I was going to regret it as soon as the branches slapped my ankles and my Keds sank into the mud. I felt the sharp burn of new cuts opening on my legs, but I kept on running.

“Bitch, you won’t be able to hide for long!” Her voice became muffled and weak, but there was one thing I heard good and loud. It bled from my ears into the rest of my body, resting on my soul like a deadweight I was going to carry around with me like a scar for years to come.

“Run all you want. No one will be chasing you anyway, you little whore.”

Another thing I didn’t forget: Wren had always been a vindictive brat.

That’s why I wasn’t surprised to find a car parked by the playground next to the track when Shadow and I limped our way back toward the neighborhood, thoroughly muddy.

I couldn’t recognize them from the distance, but they were leaning against the hood of their vehicle, ankles crossed and arms folded over their chests. The kiddie park by the track was deserted, save for their car. A Camaro SS with a paint job made in car hell, black with yellow flames, the headlights set on high.

I was about to turn around and head back to the track on limping legs, but a loud whistle pierced the silence of the night.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Todos Santos’ favorite slut,” one of the two guys sing-songed. “Good morning, Jesse.”

Oh, God. Oh, no.

Fear had a scent. A pungent, rancid smell of cold sweat, and it surrounded me like fog, crawling into my slacked mouth and sucking my soul out.

I put a face to the voice.

Looked up.

Then recognized the other guy who was beside him.

Henry and Nolan.

They wore their uniform of Polo shirts and smug smirks. What the hell were they doing in El Dorado? In the middle of the freaking night? And even more importantly—was Emery here, too? Wren. Wren had let them in. She probably partied with them, they dropped her off, but then they spotted me and couldn’t resist having some fun.

There was vomit lodged in the back of my throat as I tugged Shadow’s leash toward the main road of the neighborhood, praying a patrol cart would breeze through, but knowing that with my luck, it wouldn’t.

“Come on, Old Sport.” My voice was strangled, begging. Suddenly, I didn’t feel the cuts on my ankles, the heavy mud caking my Keds.

“Man, even her dog is fucking handicapped.” Nolan cackled, throwing an empty can of beer to roll on the concrete with a hollow echo. “How’re them legs, Jesse? Still limping?”

I didn’t, but they’d nearly broken my hipbones when they’d attacked me senior year. A violent shiver licked my spine, my heart palpitating so fast I clapped a hand over my mouth from fear of vomiting it.

“White trash girl with a white trash dog.” Henry laughed, pushing off the hood of the car and sauntering over to me. Fear cemented me to the ground like a statue and a blush crept up my cheeks. I felt my whole body coming alive with red-hot rage. Behind him, Wren was pretending to do her makeup in the back seat of the Camaro, ignoring the scene like she had no part in it.