Page 57 of Hostile Saint

With determination, she told me, “Then don’t bring another one.”

I swallowed, no longer able to be playful either. “I will be here.”

She inhaled… then exhaled… “Then let’s test out this shake.” Opening the bag, she suddenly froze. With a growing smile, she gazed at me. “You brought two straws.”

“Busted!” I whispered loudly.

Giddily, she rushed to open the straws and insert them. Since my hands were busy holding me to the wall, she offered me a sip.

I shook my head. “No way. You first.”

Studying me, she pulled a straw between the bars and leaned forward. Sweet little lips pursed… I watched the white ice-cream rise in the straw to find the mouth I was dying to taste again. As soon as it hit her tongue, her body relaxed forward against the cold iron between us. “Oh, Tate.” She took another sip. “This is divine.”

No. That would be you.

Offering me the other straw, Lace stared at my mouth as I took a sip. I was barely able to swallow as I watched her free hand rise, placing fingertips to her lips.

Yes. Sugar kisses, Pretty Girl.

It took strength to stay perched on the side of the wall, but it took even more not to lean forward and silently beg for a kiss.

Still lost in thought, her head tilted. “Tate, do you believe… if something could be so sweet,” her finger tapped the white Styrofoam cup, “then… something could be equally as bad?”

My chest rose… then fell. “Yes.” I swallowed. “But, sometimes, that bad you are speaking of can be kept away.” I found us a new home.

Her distant stare changed when she noticed me again. “Are you okay? You’re starting to sweat.”

I was. My whole body was trembling. It took much exertion to be perched there. And now that I was thinking of the brothers… my body was announcing it had reached its limit.

With regret I hoped she could hear, I admitted, “My legs are getting tired.”

“Then-Then come in.” She suddenly pulled on the bars as if finally realizing they were a hindrance for us.

“If it is okay with you, I will remove them tomorrow.”

Alarm grazed her eyes. “Do it now. D-Don’t go.”

Witnessing her panic and knowing there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it, my throat tightened. “I’m so sorry.”

I looked behind me to see my friends, see if they could help me remove the bars tonight, even though I knew they wouldn’t. Right before the visit, Vice had told me to stick to the plan.

Of course, that prompted Dagger to say, “Unless the ‘plan’ goes to shit.”

This night hadn’t gone to shit. It had gone far better than I’d hoped. So, I looked deep into those hazel eyes. “Pretty Girl—”

She nodded as if my next words were all she had and was praying they would be what she wanted to hear.

I blew out air because I didn’t want to push her too much—tell her more than she possibly could handle, but I needed her to believe me, to believe that I would be back. “I was once told, by a very special person, that I make the best promises.”

“Really?” she was scared and breathless, yet enchanting, all at the same time. “Why?”

“Because I keep them.” I waited, quietly, hoping she heard my sincerity.

Her sweet little fingers feverishly gripped the bars separating two yearning hearts. “Then… promise me. Promise you will come back.”

I leaned forward, resting my forehead against her soft fingers. “I, Tate,” will love you, evermore, “promise to come back, tomorrow night, and every night after,” until eternity ends.

Her fingers lifted from the bars, and she caressed my face with the back of her hand. “I wish I knew you before all this.”