Bane (Sinners of Saint Book 5) Read online

  “When are we going to get the results?” I shoved my hands into my front pockets.

  “It’s pretty busy here this time of the year. We’ll call and send the results by mail, so watch out for them,” Dr. Wiese said as he placed all the tubes in the test tube rack. I gave Jesse a look to confirm she’d heard him, and she nodded faintly.

  “What are we thinking about?” I walked over to stand by Dr. Wiese, watching Shadow, who looked exhausted and kind of spent. I’d never had a pet. Not for lack of wanting. Money had been tight, and a pet meant spending more money. Also, my mom had worked ridiculous hours the first ten years of her career, and I’d learned early on that in order to survive, I needed to hang out at other people’s places after school to eat home-cooked meals, so I hadn’t been around much, either.

  I didn’t know what it felt like to lose a dog, but I had a feeling that for Jesse, it was also ten times worse, because he was more than just a pet. He was another piece of old Jesse she was never going to get back.

  “All done.” Dr. Wiese snapped his elastic gloves off and dumped them into a stainless steel trash bin, turning around to wash his hands again. “Give him plenty of water and make sure he eats. Wet food, if he doesn’t have any appetite. I’ll prescribe him antibiotics right now, but we’ll be in touch.”

  “Okay,” Jesse managed, still sniffing.

  I grabbed Shadow and helped him down just when she turned to the doctor and said, “This is all my fault, you know.”

  The silence that followed made me want to throw up a little.

  I thanked the doctor, booked the follow-up appointment for Shadow myself with Miss Candy Crush, and paid the bill, because Jesse was busy shivering in the corner of the reception, mumbling empty promises and apologies to a lethargic Shadow. I carried the smelly furball to her Rover, put him in the back seat, and made sure that he was all curled up and comfortable. Then I turned around to face her.

  I was going to say something. I wasn’t really sure what. Usually I just tossed a lie or two to make uncomfortable shit go away. But as I swiveled, I realized Jesse was right beside me, her green apples and fresh rain scent filling my nostrils once again.

  “What?” I furrowed my brows.

  She shook her head, taking another step closer to me.

  “You’re entering creeper zone again,” I said. She didn’t smile. She didn’t talk. It didn’t register at first, when she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to my cheek.

  Now, here’s the part I wasn’t so crazy about admitting: I didn’t do any of my usual moves. I didn’t smirk or rake my eyes over her body or gather her into a one-arm hug like the tool they had taught me to be at All Saints High. I just stood there like a damn fool, feeling her kiss soaking into my cheek like poison. Why poison? Because it was going to kill me if I wasn’t careful.

  This girl was an apple, all right.

  But it wasn’t green. It was red and lethal and not worthy of six-fucking-million dollars.

  Shadow broke the moment by barking from the back seat. Jesse stepped away. Old Sport cheek-blocked me. After everything I’d done for him. Now I knew generosity didn’t pay off.

  We both hurried into the vehicle, our seat belts clicking in unison. Jesse drove us back into downtown Todos Santos, and I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t fucking up the deal, because kissing on the cheek was like a shoulder-punch in some cultures. There was nothing sexual about it, a statement that my throbbing dick didn’t agree with, but since when was I listening to his opinions? He liked everyone. That fucker and his hippie mentality.

  “He’s going to be fine.” I said something aloud so that the voices in my head would stop urging me to do shit like putting my hand on hers again. Note to self: check if you did actually grow a vagina today. It started to look like I might have.

  She answered, “I hope so, because he is the only one I have.”

  “Flattered,” I quipped.

  She laughed. “Stop doing this.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Offer me hope. Faith is a dangerous thing. It drives you to try, and when you try, you fail.”

  I wondered if she realized that our knees were nearly touching. That we were closer than we’d ever been. That not only could we smell each other, but we could also study every individual freckle and blemish on each other’s skin.

  “Aren’t you a bundle of sunshine and unicorns,” I remarked.

  “My dad is dead, my mom is a bitch, and I have zero friends. My dog is dying because I was too much of a coward to take him to his annual checkups. I have no ties to this world. Setting up roots, getting out of the house…” She took a sharp breath, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she drove. “For the past two years, I’ve been waiting for the sky to fall on me. Wishing for it, really. I didn’t plan on giving this whole life thing another shot. That’s why I didn’t want you to give me a job.”

  “But that’s why you need one,” I countered. She was rolling onto Main Street, heading toward El Dorado, and I wasn’t ready to part ways. Not on that note. “A reason to wake up in the morning. I need a barista, Snowflake.” I didn’t, but someone was going to lose their job. Probably Beck. He needed to concentrate on his surfing, anyway, and the sponsorships had started pouring in, so it wasn’t like he was going to go hungry. “It’s the easiest job in the world. A chipmunk can do it. Even worse—Beck can.”

  “As much as the offer flatters me—and make no mistake, proposing I should do the job of a chipmunk flatters me beyond belief,” she paused for a second, allowing the fact she’d handed me my own ass seep in, “I’m not going to work for you. Have you been to Darren’s house? Money is hardly an issue in my family.”

  “Don’t work for the money. Work for the sweat. Work for the power. Work to feel needed, and independent, and goddamn fucking productive. Work to show the motherfuckers who did what they did to you that you’re strong. Illegitimi non carborundum.”

  “Is that a Kama Sutra position?” She sighed loudly. I chuckled. She was slowly peeling off her layers of fear. Now she was just annoyed, and I could work with that.

  “It means ‘don’t let the bastards grind you down.’ ”

  For a second there, it looked like I’d gotten to her. She nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. Then she said, “I don’t even know how to make smoothies.”

  “Neither do I,” I answered. “What’s the worst you can do?”

  I put my hand on the wheel and steered it to the left, toward the promenade, toward Café Diem. Jesse swiveled her head and stared at me hard.

  “Don’t be late to your own job interview. Officially, we started five minutes ago, and you’re already sassing.”

  She smiled to herself.

  This time it reached her eyes.

  Another win for me.

  Another win I didn’t want to share with Darren.

  I let Jesse park in my spot since I didn’t have the truck or the Harley. Then I helped Shadow out on autopilot. He seemed in better spirits, but still looked like he needed a dog spa retreat or something. Jesse trailed behind us into the coffee shop, because even though she didn’t mind my proximity, she was much more comfortable without me all up in her business. Side bonus: Shadow had stopped looking at me like I was the Gestapo, so I guess we were getting places.

  You still cheek-blocked me, asshole.

  We got in.

  Skateboarding teenagers, young professionals, tattooed MacBooks, and skinny lattes and green shakes. Café Diem was hipster heaven, and it was full of regulars, so I knew a lot of people here had witnessed the shitshow that was Jesse storming out on me mid-date a couple days ago. Date, hang out. Whatever. Darren said I could date her but not fuck her. Wasn’t that the definition of marriage?

  I waltzed behind the counter before Jesse had the time to object. She was going to get the job. It was in my contract with Darren. She could pretty much burn the place down trying to make coffee, and I’d still hire her. Not that it was that bad a deal, to be ho
nest. I hated to admit that it wouldn’t be the worst thing to look at her tight little body, luscious raven hair, and ocean eyes.

  Ocean eyes.

  Okay, now I was ninety-nine percent sure I’d grown a pussy and actually contemplated going to the restroom to check that my dong was still intact. And Snowflake wasn’t only nice to look at it. She was one funny chick, too.

  “This is Jesse and Shadow. Don’t shake her hand or pet him. They’re both rabid.” I jerked my thumb toward them, my voice as grave and serious as always. “Jesse, this is Beck and Gail.” I motioned to my bald-by-choice emo chick and surfer friend baristas. Jesse snickered and I didn’t turn around to see it, even though it was rare. I knew better than to fuck myself over like that. I sauntered toward the smoothie blender and tapped it.

  “Hi!” Gail chirped. I wasn’t sure what she was trying to prove with the shiny, shaved head. If it was an attempt to look a little less girlie, Beck didn’t get the memo, because he nudged her away with his ass, doing a little wave of his own.

  “And I’m Gail’s better half, Callum Beck.”

  “You’re not half of me. You’re not even half a man,” Gail retorted.

  Beck snickered. “I could easily prove you wrong, if you’d just go on a date with me.”

  “Anyway,” I stressed, not wanting Jesse to think this was some kind of a HormoneHub where everybody fucked everybody, even though it wasn’t that far from the truth. “Most of our customers are surfers, skateboarders, or beach bums, so we mainly focus on smoothies, not coffee. Make me one now and we’ll see how we go from there.”

  “I don’t want the job,” she repeated for the thousandth time. To make her point, she stayed rooted to the floor, but it was in the business side of the counter, right along with us. I was the first one to admit my experience with the other sex was usually just that—sex. I’d only had one girlfriend in my life, Edie, and although she was feisty and brave, she was never so angry. I seemed to have brought out the red in Jesse, and I couldn’t lie—it turned me the fuck on like Christmas at Bethlehem.

  “But you do want me to take Shadow for his follow-up appointment. Correct?” I asked, smiling nonchalantly.

  She opened her mouth to say something then snapped it shut.

  “That’s what I thought. I’m happy to play nurse Protsenko to Old Sport as long as I gain a new employee.”

  She shifted her gaze, swallowing hard. I knew I’d won this one, and it felt good.

  Snowflake marched over to the blender. She waved her little hand at me, her face a brewing storm. “If I make you a smoothie, do you promise to drink it?”

  My eyebrows dove down with suspicion. “Are you gonna put jizz in it or something?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I have it handy in my purse.”

  I grinned. Like it mattered. I’d lick the sweat between her ass cheeks after a hot yoga class if it wasn’t for the contract I’d signed.

  “I promise everything I put in there is legit. I’m just not sure if the combination will be to your liking.”

  I humored her. “I like my employees innovative. Let’s see what you got.”

  Now she was smiling. Really smiling. I looked away and led Shadow to the far corner of the café, giving him a bowl with fresh water. It was going to be a long-ass six months if every time she grinned, my dick wanted to give her a mouth-to-mouth.

  I leaned against the counter, Gail and Beck by my side, as we all watched Jesse dumping banana pieces, strawberries, vanilla yogurt, coconut water…then spinach, kale, avocado, cream cheese, ginger, cayenne, tofu…

  “Easy there, Jesse,” Gail said, taking a step toward Carter. I watched closely for any signs of distress from the latter, but found none. She was less uncomfortable with women. “I’m not sure everything goes together.”

  Jesse slammed the blender shut and offered Gail a sweet smile. “You think? Gee, I can’t imagine what would happen if I don’t get this job.”

  “There’s no way Bane’s gonna drink that.” Beck chortled from behind me, and I imagined him blowing his stupid, long brown hair away. Stupid because I had long hair, too, but at least I kept mine in a bun.

  It was only then—with Beck behind me and Gail lined up with me, but not anywhere near Jesse—that I noticed that I was blocking people from Jesse. It had become second nature to me at this point.

  See a person that’s not me ➔ put myself between him/her and Snowflake ➔ make sure he/she doesn’t get anywhere near her until we are out of the room.

  Jesse started the blender and I watched in disgust as every single thing we had in stock swirled together into a smoothie from hell. Once she was done, she made a show of biting her lower lip, leaning forward, plucking a large slushie cup from the pyramid of cups and pouring the smoothie into it, as the entire room watched her with awe mixed with disbelief. I guessed she was oblivious to the fact that everyone was watching her. Or maybe she knew, and for a moment there, she was the Jesse prior to what had happened to her. Confident and feisty and a lot of fucking fun. She slid the cup across the counter and tilted her head sideways, batting her eyelashes.

  “Here, Mr. Protsenko. I truly hope this will be to your satisfaction and will result in my employment.”

  Silence. A guy at the far end of the room stood up from his chair and slapped his table repeatedly, shouting, “Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink.”

  Seconds later, everyone was standing, balling their fists, urging me on to down that fucking nightmare of a smoothie. Take it from someone who’d visited Russia often enough to remember the small details—this shit could only happen in America. The way people unite to see someone do something completely stupid is uplifting, if not downright inspirational. Hell, Jackass made millions off that concept.

  “You’re funny,” I said flatly.

  “And you’re stalling.” She grinned.

  Hot. Fucking. Damn.

  But, really—was that my thank you for dragging her ass back to civilization? At the same time, I couldn’t ignore how fun it was to finally be challenged, and, yes, even ridiculed. Beck drummed the counter, and Gail clapped her hands excitedly, woo-hoo-ing like an extra in a nineties high school movie. Jesse’s eyes clung to my face, so I picked up the cup, my eyes locked on hers as it touched my lips.

  “You’re going to regret it,” I hissed into the brown foam on my lips.

  “So are you,” she whispered, her eyes holding mine.

  I downed the whole disgusting thing without breathing through my nose once.

  People burst into applause, like kernels of popcorn exploding in a microwave bag, and Jesse laughed so hard she had to brace herself against the counter. I pretended to launch at her, and she pretended to run, her shoulder brushing mine. Instead of flinching or running, she just straightened back up, wiped a happy tear off her face, and smiled at the brownish-greenish foam that clung to my upper lip.

  “You’re hired,” I growled into her face.

  For a second, it looked like she might just wipe the foam off with her thumb.

  For a second, it looked like old Jesse would bulldoze her way into the room.

  But in reality, she turned around and moved away, calling for Shadow.

  That was fine by me, because even though I didn’t get the old Jesse, I’d still managed to do something monumental that day.

  I’d killed The Untouchable. And for the first time in a long time, her sky wasn’t going to fall.

  THAT NIGHT, I SKIPPED MY usual nighttime jog.

  My head was reeling from the day. From Shadow’s upcoming blood work results. The new job. From kissing Bane on the cheek.

  Habits and repetition were the only things that kept me from throwing myself off a cliff, and I still needed a physical outlet, so I went to the outside pool for a quick swim. I did a few laps then stopped in the middle of the pool, floating facedown with my arms stretched and eyes wide. I held my breath, my lungs burning with the last, deep breath I’d taken.

  The only lights visible were reflecting on
the water from the outdoor lamps. It looked and felt like I was floating in the atmosphere, with nothing to anchor me back home. It reminded me of the days after The Incident, when I’d contemplated suicide. I wasn’t sure how serious I’d been—deep down, the concept still seemed so crazy, but sometimes in the dead of the night, when it was really quiet, I waited for the tears to come out, and all I felt was emptiness.

  I didn’t feel so empty now. Scared, yes, and very unsure. But there was excitement there, too. Roman ‘Bane’ Protsenko was a paid escort. But funnily enough, that took the pressure off. We weren’t a boy and a girl. We were two lonely, fucked-up souls. It made wanting Bane in my life acceptable. I wanted him to fix me.

  To cure me.

  To hold me.

  To make me laugh.

  To make the pain go away.

  More than anything, I wanted him to lift my shirt, see the scar, kiss it better, and tell me that I was beautiful. I could almost imagine it if I tried real hard—his beard on my marred flesh. His crinkly, soothing eyes on my sore memories.

  Soft.

  Warm.

  Good.

  Breathe.

  I needed to breathe.

  I snapped my head up from the water and took a greedy breath, gasping for air. My arms flailed around me, and I swam in place, looking around, before paddling frantically to the edge of the pool.

  Maybe that was the difference between Bane and all the others.

  I didn’t want him.

  I needed him to remind me how to breathe.

  I liked to think of my memories as a graveyard for my thoughts.

  Moments that were already dead, so I didn’t have to worry about them happening again.

  I remembered a lot of things I wished I hadn’t, and maybe that was my problem. For instance, I remembered the moment Emery yanked my shirt and jerked me into that car. The moment I realized I was in danger. I remembered the first rip of fabric in my ear—that was Emery, too, who started everything before the other two followed.