Page 34 of No Saint
His neck tensed; his left eye twitched. “I swear to fucking God, I will make both of your lives hell for the next four weeks if you keep this shit up.”
“I’m doing your laundryandcooking.” Cassie grabbed the laxative from the floor and tossed it back into the trash. “Newsflash. I’m already in hell, Rogue.”
“Nah, honeybun, you’re just in the outer circle.” He stormed out of the kitchen, returning seconds later with white T-shirts gripped in each hand. He tossed one at Cassie, then Jade. “There are still eight more levels to go.”
Jade held up the tiny white top adorned with “Omega Dicksolon Saves Penguins.” That thing would barely cover her tits. Under boob would be everywhere…and that image had my dick swelling. Hard and fast.
Jade dropped the shirt. “What the hell is this?”
“Your shirt for the frat’s auction.”
Like hell Jade was prancing around wearingthattop.
“What?” Jade held the shirt up again. “Am I supposed to wear this and serve beers to your pervy frat friends while you auction off drugs?”
“No, while I auction off your asses.”
I felt my brow crease. Putting the girls in the auction wasn’t something we’d discussed. I pictured her in that damn shirt, tits spilling out, while guys shouted out bids. Like a little money gave him the right to touch her. It didn’t. The heavy surge of possessiveness that tore through me almost had me stepping between her and Rogue.
“You can fuck off.” Jade chucked the material to the table, her face growing red. “Selling unwilling women for profit has a name, you sick fuck.” She tore Cassie’s shirt from her grip. “Cassie isn’t doing it, either.”
“The hell you aren’t. You put laxatives in our food!”
Rage burned through me. I didn’t want to care this much, but I did. And I sure as shit couldn’t let her see it. “Come on, Rogue.” I thumbed toward Jade, trying to cover my outrage with a smirk. “Her nickname is Jason Voorhees. No guy’s going to pay to possibly have his throat slit.”
Jade shot daggers at me. Did I believe that for one second? No. Jade was hot as hell. Most guys would gladly risk a severed jugular if they thought it would give them a chance. But I knew Rogue, and one sure-fire way to reason with him was to make him think it wasn’t a sound financial decision.
His brow creased. “Some idiot will.”
“I’m not doing it,” Jade said, crossing her arms over her chest and popping one hip to the side in defiance. “You’re disgusting.”
Smiling, Rogue ignored her insult. “It’s either prance yourself around like a piece of meat or prance yourself into a jail cell.” He went back to the sink and filled his glass with water. “At this point, I honestly don’t care which one it is. At least behind bars, I won’t have to deal with your shit. Pink fucking laundry…”
Cassie went off on a tangent—something about Rogue being a misogynistic dick and her murdering him—but I wasn’t listening. I was too focused on the horrified look on Jade’s face. That auction would do nothing but humiliate Cassie, but Jade… That atmosphere, the partying, the drinking, the way those guys would be looking at her like she was nothing but a piece of meat. That wouldn’t just be uncomfortable for her, it would be a trigger. Something that would stir up past traumas. A past I knew too much about. One I had tried like hell to protect her from. Four years back, I had someone else’s blood all over my knuckles because of her. Because I’d walked into a room at one of the rich kid parties and found her unconscious with some piece-of-shit guy between her legs. That image never left me. It had branded itself in my mind, and fuck, if I’d ever allow herto be put in a situation where she could be taken advantage of again.
“Jade’s not doing it.”
Cassie stopped her tirade mid-sentence. Rogue, who had been walking out of the kitchen, turned and glared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“The hell she isn’t.” He pointed between them. “They both?—”
“Don’t give a shit.” My voice was hard. Final. “Jade’s not doing it!” I gave him what I hoped was a clear “don’t fuck with me” glare. “Understood?”
His confused attention pinged between Jade and me before an annoyed frown settled on his face. “Whatever.” He slammed his glass on the countertop like a spoiled brat. “You come up with a punishment for her, then.” He walked out, mumbling something under his breath that I didn’t bother to catch.
Like this all wasn’t punishment enough. The entire thing was ridiculous. I had too many of my own problems to deal with. What I wanted was her out of my house. Out of my head. Out of my life…at that thought, something in my chest went tight. Because deep down, the truth was that my pussy-ass self didn’t want her out of my life. Masochistic fuck…
“Stupid-ass bullshit,” I muttered and turned for the back door without glancing at either of the girls. The screen banged shut behind me. Warm sun hit my face, and I inhaled a deep, not-so-cleansing breath.
I still cared about her. And what the hell did that say about me? Her comment last night about not giving a shit about me had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want me in her life, that I had never meant as much to her as she had to me, and yet… I still had an innate need to protect her. Still saw her as my holy place. One I didn’t want anyone desecrating, even though she’d broken my heart and cut me out of her life. What the hell was wrong with me?
I kicked the porch railing before storming down the steps and dropping into the lawn chair. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back in the sunshine, and tried to let the soft hum of a mower in the distance relax my tensed muscles.
Jade shouldn’t matter to me any more than I mattered to her, but that was evidently easier said than done. No matter how I tried to stop them, feelings don’t give a shit about logic. I couldn’t escape them, and when I thought about why, all I could come up with was trauma bullshit from my past.
My dad had always preached on forgiveness, probably because my mom had given him her fair share of it. Every time the sermon at church had his conscience eating away at him and confessing he had hooked up with some lot lizard on one of his runs, Mom turned the other cheek. Made his dinner. Folded his laundry… Maybe that was why forgiveness had always felt like weakness to me and why I hadn’t been able to forgive Jade for…for what? For me not being good enough for her?
I huffed a laugh, opening my eyes and leaning over my knees, hating how irrelevant she’d made me feel.
