Page 1 of Soulless Saint

Where the fuck are you, Kaleb?

The early morning sun glared angrily through the open top of the Bronco, heating my already boiling blood as I barreled down the Sunday streets of Santa Clarita.

I craned my neck to check oncoming traffic before blowing another red light and hanging a sharp right onto Grove St.

I swear to fuck, if your ass is at Minty’s…

My tires spat gravel onto the road as I pulled into our old dealer’s driveway, lifting myself out of the Bronco by her roll bars. The squat white house near the edge of Canyon Country stared out into the day with dark eyes. Quiet.

Not for long.

I took the steps three at a time, landing my fist on the front door once, twice, three times. Rattling the window panes.

“Christ!” Minty shouted somewhere inside and the sound of pills scattering over the floor met my ears.

I knocked again, twice, louder.

The dirty once-white blinds covering the window to the right of the door crinkled, beveling back and forth. “Shit,” Minty cursed, and I listened as no less than three locking mechanisms unlatched before the door swept open.

I shoved past Minty’s gaunt frame, into his kitchen, where something that smelled like acid simmered in a shallow blackened fry pan on the stove. Pills popped and crunched under my boots.

“Hardin, man, what the fuck—”

I spun, leveling the full weight of my stare on him, a tremor of heat coiling up my spine, heating my cheekbones where they flared out.

Don’t fuck with me, Minty.

He reared back a step, hands raised. “No harm done.”

“Kaleb,” I growled, eyes tracking the airspace behind him, scanning the two caved-in sofas in the living room and the darkened doorway of the bedroom beyond it.

“Kaleb?” Minty repeated as I stormed past him through the living room and into the bedroom, flicking the light on.

“Minty, it’s too early…” a scratchy feminine voice mewled from beneath the covers, her pale foot retracting beneath their warmth with a shuddering sigh.

I slammed my palm against the wall, the release from the sting licking down the length of my body like salve applied to a wound. I tipped my head to the left, cracking my neck, shaking out my tight muscles as I made my way to the bathroom, Minty blathering something unintelligible in my wake.

Empty. I threw back the shower curtain to be sure, but he wasn’t here.

“Hardin,” Minty said, and I guessed it wasn’t for the first time by the exasperation in his tone.

I turned to him.

“Kaleb’s not here, man. I haven’t seen him in months.”

I felt my face twisting.

If he was fucking lying to me…

“I swear,” he added, normally hooded eyes wide and red with his promise. “If he shows his ass here, you’re my first call.”

My gaze narrowed on a black slip of fabric by Minty’s feet.

He saw it the same time I did, and paled.

“Hardin…” Minty said warily, already backing away.

I bent to retrieve the sweater, turning it over in my palm. The fabric fell to one side, revealing the shining silver Saint emblem on the right breast. Kaleb had been wearing it when he left around midnight.

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