Page 51 of The Tenth Circle
My temper flares, and I’m seconds away from another assault on the door when it swings open, this time by none other than the mega bitch Annalie.
Her lips twist into a grimace as she examines every inch of me, specifically where cleavage is peeking out behind the zipper of my hoodie.
I’m never one to body shame, I believe every woman is unique and beautiful, but I need to hit this girl where it hurts—the same way she tries to with me.
So, I look down at the chest hiding behind her bodycon mini dress and pout, mouthing the words, “Too bad, so sad.”
With a pathetic screech, Annalie stomps past me, and I don’t give her a second thought as I storm into the room and slam the door behind me.
Through dim yellow light I find Saint leaning back against a table with hands pressed on top of it. Still shirtless, jeans open and displaying black boxer briefs tight against the prominent V that is his abdomen.
Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.
Don’t you fucking do it, Hendrix.
Saint’s thumb finds the elastic rim of his briefs and runs a line behind them. “See somethin’ you like, Jimi?”
I hate that this became his catchphrase.
So much I refuse to acknowledge it.
After a long beat of silence, Saint exhales a bored sigh. “I assume you’re here to avenge your little doggy.”
“Stevenson isnota dog.” My feet move on their own accord to stomp over to him. “He’s human. And you really fucking hurt him.”
When coming to a halt, I make it a point to step on the toes of his pretty white Jordans. Hard. Saint is unfazed as he looks down at the scuff marks I leave behind on his sneakers. “Spare me the scolding,” he blinks up at me, “your precious Stevie is fine.”
“He isnotfine. He’s got the burns to prove it.”
“The size of what? Pimples?” Saint bursts out in a fit of laughter. “Fuck, Jimi. I’ve got hickies larger than that.”
Judging by the cooch that just left I’d imagine sores too.
With a murderous growl, I pull the mini stun gun I spent over an hour learning to use from my hoodie pocket and stab him right in the neck with it.
“Care to test your theory, asshole?” I press the trigger slightly, just enough to know it’s working, but nowhere near enough to satisfy me.
Point proven as Saint pushes off the table, unbothered by the fact he’s one more pull away from doing the Electric Slide.
I watch hesitantly as he glances up at a lantern suspended over our heads, reaching for it and pushing gently—allowing light to dance around us through the shadows of the room. When Saint looks down at me, his eyes are filled with so much life it’d be impossible for a stranger to believe darkness hides inside them.
“Why’d you do that?” I ask.
“To set the mood.”
I shove the stun gun harder into his neck.
“You did that three days ago.”
His glare sharpens. “Oh really…how so?”
“By hurting an innocent guy for no reason.”
“Oh, I had a reason,” he shoots back, voice rising a few octaves.
“What? A bruised ego?”
Saint’s upper lip twitches.
