Page 25 of Saint

My eyes move to my ceiling—to the dark corners of my room. Even here, alone, he’s watching me.

Violet:You’re a psychopath.

Saint:Defining us won’t be that easy.

Violet:There is nous.

Saint:That’s where you’re wrong.

I clench my phone, bile rising in my throat. Saint is sicker than I thought, and this is all my fault.

Violet:Whose is it? The… finger.

I’m not sure why I feel him behind me because I spin, and no one is there. But I sense the same thing I did in the forest with my question—Saint’s amusement. That twisted chuckle he offered under his breath as he lowered his mouth to my ear and tightened his grip around my throat.

His palm pressed against my windpipe, stealing my breath.

Saint:You know whose.

Liam.

My stomach heaves, but I hold it in. A day ago, Liam’s hand was on my thigh, teasing the line of my shorts as he drove to the party. And now his finger is sitting on my bed.

Saint:I’m starting a collection.

Violet:Of what?

And do I really want to know?

Saint:Things that touch what’s mine.

My heart hammers as I read the text over and over.

Saint:Let’s consider it my new art project. Keep that in mind tonight, Violet.

Before I can respond, the screen goes dark, and once more, he disappears.

9

Just A Little Fun

Violet

Marijuana clogs the airas I step inside Sigma House. Music hammers through the speakers, and people spill from the front door as Mila leads the four of us into madness.

It’s unimaginable how anyone can live in a place like this. And one step inside offers me a new perspective on what my boyfriend might have been up to when I wasn’t around.

I’ve never been jealous—I’m too busy to keep tabs on anyone but myself. So I didn’t think twice about the Sigma Sin party rumors, assuming if Liam was dating me, he cared enough about me to want to be in a relationship. But walking through the doors of Sigma House, I’m faced with a scene that makes me wonder how much I knew about the person I was dating.

And it makes me question how good he was at hiding the other sides of himself.

The stench of pot and booze fills the air. Girls walk around wearing next to nothing. A few dance topless on a table in the center of the room while two people at the edge of the room are fucking in front of everyone.

Somehow, that’s the least shocking thing happening, given there are two men chained to large wooden crosses against one wall. People walk by and draw on them with Sharpies, and the guys who are chained up must be initiates because they don’t flinch as someone draws cocks on their faces.

“This was a bad idea.” Maybe one of my worst.

I turn to Patience, who is staring wide-eyed as she looks around the room. At her side, Teal scans the scene unaffected—bored even. While Mila is grinning and looking ready to party.

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