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“Not alone. I’ll help.”

A smile graced his face. It had been so long since I saw it on him that it was disarming.

Of course, wicked smiles on madmen still counted as smiles.

So I smiled back.

SIXTY-SIX

ETHAN

Ieyed Elijah as he sat across from me in the hotel room while Enzo and Cole were out doing garbage for Enzo’s wedding. Of course, I wasn’t going to that shit. There was no way in hell I’d go, and if I did, it wouldn’t be to smile and celebrate.

It would be because I was killing those sick motherfuckers.

“You play chess?” Elijah asked.

“Sometimes. It’s been a long time,” I said.

“There’s a chessboard over there.” He gestured behind me. “We could play. Take your mind off shit.”

I shrugged. He got up, retrieved the board, and placed it on the coffee table. I shifted forward on the couch and placed my pieces where they belonged while he did the same.

We played in silence for the longest time before he decided to talk. I didn’t know much about these saints, but since Enzo seemed to trust them, I gave them the benefit of the doubt. They were our age. Looking for their girl. Convinced Matteo had her.

We had no information for them. It didn’t stop them from working their asses off.

“I grew up on the streets,” he said. “All of us did.”

I moved a piece forward.

“When we were fourteen, we stole a chessboard from a store. We used to play one another to pass the time in our old warehouse.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I remained silent.

“When I was sixteen, I killed a man.” He claimed my pawn. “He touched Indie when we were in the underground for Dmitri so he could fight. It was how we were able to eat. Dmitri would fight for cash. Or we’d steal it.” Another move. Another piece claimed.

I studied him. He was a good-looking guy. Tall. Muscular. Dark hair. Gray eyes.

“The man had two grand in his jacket. We ate like kings for almost a year.” He gestured for me to take my turn. “We were also able to buy a couple of blankets and some clothes from a secondhand shop. First time any of us had actually paid for shit like that without stealing it.”

“But it was stolen money,” I pointed out.

He shrugged. “Fuck that guy.”

We played for a bit more, him beating me before he sat back in his seat. I wasn’t a chess whiz, but he definitely seemed to be.

“Tell me about Indie,” I said. I’d not heard much about her except that she’d gone missing.

A tiny smile graced his lips. “Indigo,” he murmured. “Hair black as pitch. Eyes blue as the morning sky. Soft. Sweet. So fucking smart and beautiful.” He pulled out a photo from his wallet and handed it to me.

I took it and stared down at a picture of him and the rest of the saints, a tiny wisp of a girl in the center.

She was breathtaking.

“She’s been missing for four years,” he said. “She went home to her piece of shit foster parent. He owed Matteo De Santis a lot of money. She never told us he touched her.” His voice shook. “Not until it was too late. She told Christian. They werealways tight. He doesn’t lose his cool as fast as the rest of us, so I understand why she confided in him first.” He breathed out. “She refused to stay with us at the warehouse. Was terrified of the man. Sometimes, I’d sit on her fire escape at night to make sure she was safe. All night with a ratty blanket wrapped around me.” He let out a soft, sad laugh and grew quiet.

My heart went out to him and the saints. I’d not yet sat and spoken to any of them at length. They seemed to be all business and getting their shit done. Enzo and Cole liked them. I could see why. They embodied everything the horsemen stood for.