Page 40 of Hostile Saint

Numbly, I tried to explain, “He always scared me the most.”

“Think she’s pretty?” sneered Jake, with such disgust.

“Yes, she is my Pretty Girl.”

With growing rage for the deceit, Damien rushed into the bathroom, grabbed a pair of scissors from my bathroom drawer, then raced to stand behind Lacey’s chair again. Her head hung forward, blood and drool dripping. He grabbed a fistful of her gorgeous hair and held it up in the air. “How about now?”

I told the bikers, “I cried, but those tears were silent because, as he butchered away her perfect golden hair, I was truly grateful that was all he was cutting.”

Whatever reaction Damien was hoping for, the one I was exhibiting wasn’t the one he craved, so he wanted me to hurt. “Hit him! Hard!”

A fist slammed into my face, compounding the excruciating pain of the lost molar.

“When Crow hit me, my vision blurred, but I refused to pass out. I needed to stay awake for Lace. I didn’t dare leave her defenseless, especially while unconscious. So, I took all they had to give while being awake, to watch over her.”

Possibly because Damien was pulling on her hair, Lacey’s eyes opened. I wanted to tell her to close them, not to see the nightmare she just woke to, but that chance wouldn’t come. Damien had been angrier than I had ever seen before.

“Damien’s control over me had been demented over the years. But him not having control was like being skinned alive while paralyzed, yet able to feel every rip of my flesh.”

“It’s you or her!” Damien had untied Lace from the chair and now had her bent over my bed, her arms so tightly bent behind her back she was wailing in pain. “Pick!” he roared, “Now!”

Through her screams, blood dripped on the blankets that were disheveled due to Lacey and I just making love …

“It was haunting to know she was now going to be forced to do something she had just been doing willingly, with me, only moments earlier.”

From behind me, Jarod roared! “You or her?”

“Me, or her. I will always spare her.”

I was bent over…

“They each took a turn.”

Standing on that dirt road, we all stared at the rental car that now had an impressive number of major dents, courtesy of Lynx’s boot. After learning what happened to me, he went berserk. At the very end of the road sat two motorcycles. I appreciated them keeping their distance and giving us privacy. By the look of the car, we clearly needed it.

Dagger, rubbing the back of his neck, stared at the damage. Then he shrugged. “We could say it happened in a Walmart parking lot?”

Vice nodded. “Oh, yeah. That’ll totally work. Shit always happens in Walmart parking lots.”

“Right?” agreed Dagger.

Vice said, “Yep. I recently saw a show where some serial killer was picking his prey from one.”

“See?” practically cheered Dagger, as if that was good news. “Our story to the insurance company can be, uh,” he gazed at the destroyed car with his one eye, “ummm—” He smacked his hands together. “I got it. A tornado—”

“Out of the blue,” added Vice.

“Oh, of course. Out of the blue and, uh—”

“Picked up a row of shopping carts!” Vice had clearly missed out on Storytime as a kid and was loving Dagger’s game.

Dagger pointed at him like he was a genius. “There it is. The tornado threw the carts into the rental car—”

Lynx finally started laughing, “Alright. Alright. I’m calm again.” His shaking hand grabbed the shoulder of my t-shirt and yanked me in for a hug. A man-hug I had never experienced before. Not one man had ever held me, even after my father died. “I fucking love you, kid.” Lynx was squeezing me so tight. “You hear me?” My body was rigid, but Lynx refused to let go. “You feel me, Saint?”

From over Lynx’s shoulder, I saw Dagger and Vice’s jaws positively hang. Without recovering, they looked at each other in complete amazement. Then they both started nodding and smiling. In unison, they both respectfully dipped their chin to me.

Vice spoke, as if so pleased. “Saint. Valiant road name, for sure.”