Page 35 of Hostile Saint

“… Lacey…” a female voice entered my head with the only word that I would always comprehend. “… will someday get to hold you again…” I blinked as I tried to focus on those words. “…Pretty Girl will smile…” Blink. “…I’m just going to keep talking until you can hear my voice again…”

“M-My L-Lace?”

“Yeah,” Elle softly said, “she’s beautiful. I saw the picture.”

A picture of Lace was now laying in front of me. On the table, on Vice’s cell.

I nodded as my eyes welled and feelings rushed into my worn-out body. “Beautiful.”

Elle sounded as if smiling through tears. “You are a lucky man.”

I nodded, grabbing my chest that hurt so bad. “So lucky.”

“What’s this I hear about ‘sugar’ kisses? I’m so intrigued.”

As I smiled, tears fell. “Vanilla shake. She was sad.” I wasn’t making full sentences, but at least I was managing to talk again. “I told her sugar fixes everything. Vanilla shake. First kiss.” My shoulders shook as I cried. “Said I tasted sweet.” So sad for my life that was one regret after another, I sobbed. “Sugar fixes everything.”

There wasn’t enough sugar in the world to fix me that day.

Waking on my side, facing my bedroom window, I felt as tired as I did when I had lain down. I had been in bed all day and night. I simply ran out of steam. My heartbreak had sucked me dry.

Lacey, I need you.

My toes poked out from under the blanket and soaked up the sun.

An exhale had me realizing Lynx was awake. In the chair next to me, Lynx leaned his elbows to his knees while staring at me. Instantly, I felt panicked. My heart beginning to race was becoming a knee-jerk reaction with all that was happening in my life.

Lynx said, “If you could chill, that would be awesome. I just wanna talk.”

Not wanting to hear any more bad news, I shook my head, similar to what the reaction a Coke has if opened after being shaken. That trick used to be a fun pastime for my brothers. The only positive for me was when they did it, my tongue would taste the wonderful flavor as the Coke dripped down my face. “Sorry, I—”

“Pup, you’re apologizing again.”

“But you said to chill.”

“Yeah. Your point?”

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

His brows bunched. “Huh? About what?”

Now I was confused. “For being upset.”

“Are you apologizing for how you feel?”

Lynx often saying, Ya feel me? Was suddenly making more sense. It was like he wasn’t just asking if I understood him; it was more as if he was asking if I could feel—connect—with his meaning. If I could, then his meaning would be undeniable. It would resonate on a deep level. And, if that was the case, apologizing for a ‘feeling’ did seem quite absurd.

The mind reader tapped the tip of his nose. “Ah, there it is. I think you got it now.”

His casual, yet sincere attitude had my whole body releasing a sigh.

Lynx added, “Whether or not your feelings are warranted, they’re still yours, Nine Lives. Learn to own them.”

“Okay… I feel like more ‘talk’ about my non-family may kill me.”

“But Justice has found out more about your brothers.”

I raised a hand, pleading. “Is Lace still safe?”