Page 102 of Soulless Saint

I tried so hard to hate Hardin and Kaleb, but the truth was I didn’t hate them at all. I wasn’t sure I ever did. I just hated how they made me feel.

No. That wasn’t right.

I hated how I loved how they made me feel.

“Yes,” Aodhán replied darkly, his hands gripping the wheel tight. “Something like that.”

I swallowed hard, needing to hear myself say it. “Damien St. Vincent is my father.”

Pope stood outside Death Before Decaf, his steady gaze scanning every face, every inch of the street, in both directions on a loop. Ever the trusty watchdog.

Dad was right to assign him to keep an eye on Becca while we figured out the details of tonight’s official meet with the Sons. Aka, motherfucking doomsday.

“Kaleb, what are you doing here? Thought orders were for me to watch the girl?”

“I’ll take it from here, Pope.”

Of course, he was right. Orders were for him to watch Becca. No one else on the crew knew her real connection to our family.

Dad told us to lay off her while she processed the shit he threw at her last night. The shit he threw at all of us.

I didn’t blame Becca for taking off on us even if I kind of wanted to shake her for being so stupid. Didn’t she understand how serious this was?

She should. After the shit she went through in Thorn Valley.

Regardless, we found her at home and Toby and Becca refused to let us inside to see her. We could’ve forced our way in, but that wasn’t about to earn us any fuckin’ brownie points.

The crew though? They only knew what Dad told them. That she was an innocent Hardin and I had gotten all twisted up in our shit, making her a liability that he didn’t want to see die an innocent casualty of gang war.

The lie would hold, for now, but it was only a matter of time before the truth got out and Becca went from being potentially threatened by association to actively hunted as an easy target.

“You sure?” Pope asked, his thick brows knitting together.

“Yeah, man. Go home, get some shut eye so you’re fresh for tonight. I need to talk to her.”

He gave me a pat on the shoulder and a sad smile. It wasn’t the first one I’d gotten since I hauled my ass out of bed this morning, either. Everyone had that fucking solemn look to them this morning during the meet at the shop, when we went over the plan of attack for tonight.

Like they weren’t sure any of us would be walking away from tonight alive, despite all the safeguards we had in place.

There was just one more piece of the pie. One more thing that needed to fall into place and then we were on. Zade and Arch should have the intel we needed from The Warden’s men within the hour. If there was intel to be gotten.

Hey, God, it’s me, Kaleb, if you were ever planning on doing me any favors, now would be the time.

We could really use a fucking leg up on these guys.

I watched Pope walk away and scanned the street outside one more time before pushing into the cafe, the smell of coffee beans and freshly baked carrot muffins filling my nose.

Becca handed a takeout cup to a customer, looking like an actual ghost. The smile she wore looked like it pained her to make it. The dark, puffy half moons under her eyes told me she hadn’t slept, and judging by the tremble in her hands, I didn’t think she was in any shape to be at work right now.

I couldn’t imagine what must be going through her head. To all of a sudden be told that your father is not your father. And then in the same breath to learn your father is actually the head of a gang and also coincidentally the man you blame for your mother’s death.

I mean, shit, that was a lot to unpack. Pope also overheard her on the phone with her Dad—or, adoptive dad, I guess—who’d apparently grown a pair and fessed up so at least she could start to accept it, right?

Becca’s eyes lifted to mine, and any remaining color drained from her face, turning her a sickly shade of green.

“You can’t be here,” she said, swallowing with a wince as she pressed a hand to her stomach and backed away from the counter like she’d erect an actual fucking wall between us if she could.

I flinched. “Well, I kind of have to be. Dad’s order’s, you know. You can’t be without protection.”

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