Page 61 of Hostile Saint

She rushed to me. “Are you okay?”

“W-Where do you see these shadows? Here? Are they here?”

“Well,” she winced before tapping her temple, “here, I think.” She explained, “I mean, that’s where Doctor Landon thinks they are because they stand behind him.”

Shutting the book, I spun around. “Where, baby? Where do they stand behind him?” I studied the whole room, still circling, scanning for the threat. “In here?” When seeing no ‘shadows’, I rushed to look out the window. “In the courtyard?”

When she didn’t answer, I spun around, positive the brothers had her.

They did.

Maybe not in a physical sense, but mentally? She was all theirs.

Writhing on the floor beside the window, in the corner of her room, terrified hands pulled at her clothing. Eyes slammed shut, her whole body was so incredibly tense, almost seizure-like, yet she didn’t stop moving.

It was at that very moment I knew Lynx was right. I had to respect her condition. I had to be as gentle as possible while having this girl in my care. I had to be so careful not to trigger any memories for which she wasn’t ready. It wasn’t time for her mind to remember. By the way she suffered in that corner, I doubted it would ever be.

I thought of Elle and how she kept calmly talking to me when my mind went on the fritz after learning about my biological mother’s death. Elle had distracted me with Lacey’s name and qualities. Since I couldn’t speak to who I truly was, a young man who adored her, I grabbed the second-best thing.

Putting her journal on the floor, I snatched the bag by the window and begged myself to sound as calm as possible. “Vanilla shake, here we come.” Sitting in front of her, I tried to ignore all her little tears dripping down her clenched face, and I inserted straws. “Nice and cold, smooth ice-cream.”

Her writhing slowed…

Trembling, I took a sip. “Oh yeah, this tastes so good. It’s a damn good thing I have two straws so I can share.”

Her breathing changed—calmed…

“Vanilla sugar treats. I bet this dessert could make for sweet sugar kisses.”

Her eyes opened…

She exhaled… Then looked around, somewhat confused. “Did I fall?”

I forced down sinking emotions as more vanilla shake slid down my throat. “No.” My voice wobbled even though I was smiling. “You just sat down to get ready for some of this.” I handed her another small miracle.

Having heavy conversations inside the rental home was understandable due to the subject matter and needing to keep details private, but it didn’t make me stop desiring fresh air instead of the stifling words being shared. It was late at night, but these bikers didn’t seem to be on normal schedules. If it was time for a community phone call, then that is what time it was—no matter what the actual ‘time’ was.

At the dining room table, which I was starting to suspect symbolized something they had back at home, we sat in our regular seats and listened to Justice over the burner’s speaker phone. “Due to being short on leads, I researched the last owner of Saint’s childhood home…”

Her calling me by my road name caught me off guard, yet also announced how much Lynx was in touch with his Austin club. He kept his officers up to date. Always. Had claimed it could be a safety issue if he didn’t.

“It was indeed owned by Saint’s father.”

Lynx’s brows rose. “Was?”

“Yes, sir. Now, it is owned by Tate Young.”

I choked. “Me?”

Needless to say, that was the absolute last name I expected. The present Stallions must have felt the same; all three men around the table went bug-eyed.

As if Justice was such a badass she could see us from states away, she replied, “Exactly. Not what I saw coming, either. So, this Road Captain dug deeper. The papers were filed by a lawyer.” She exhaled. “Tate, I’m so sorry. The lawyer’s name was David T. Young.”

My lips moved but made no sounds. And why was she sorry? Wasn’t there a chance I had blood family out there?

Lynx grabbed his chest. “David Tate Young. Am I right?”

“You are correct, Prez.”