Bane (Sinners of Saint)

“I’m sorry. Were you not awake for the past forty-eight hours? Why would I tell you anything that is not go fuck yourself?” I chuckled bitterly. “Now, tell me what she knows so we can clean this shit up.”

  The more I knew, the better I could prepare for my conversation with Jesse.

  But Darren just shook his head again—his signature move—and sighed. “She knows everything about everything. Which means that it is over for me.”

  There was a lot I didn’t understand, and Darren looked about as cooperative and conversational as a fucking dildo-shaped candle. I wanted to slam his head against his desk until he gave me all the answers I needed, but it was futile. Dude was not making sense.

  “I’m going to make it right,” I said.

  “It’s too late.” Some more headshaking. This asshole was about to break some boring Guinness record, and no one was here to give a shit. I darted down the stairs, back to the front gate and to my Harley, leaving Pam to run after me down the street in her little satin nightgown and yelling, “Whatever Jesse thinks she knows, tell her that I didn’t know anything about it.”

  Whatever the hell that meant. As I said before—Jesse got all her wit and intelligence from Artem. This bitch had merely been a nine-month incubator. And when Jesse was born, she took away all of Pam’s beauty and brains. Was it a wonder that Snow White’s mother was such a devil?

  I drove straight to Gail from there. I knew better than to try to convince my employee to let me in and see Jesse. Besides, I needed to start thinking about what was best for Jesse, and even I recognized that she didn’t need to see me right now. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t text her. So I did that, just to cover all my bases.

  Bane

  You have to believe me when I say I didn’t know about Artem. I had no idea.

  I would never keep something like this from you, Jesse. Ever.

  Bane

  Yeah, I signed a contract. But that was before. Before us. Before you. Before everything. I thought I was helping both of us. Then I got to know you and SurfCity didn’t matter anymore.

  Bane

  You mattered. You MATTER. You’re the only thing that matters, Snowflake. I went to Darren with the intention of telling him the deal was off. He dropped the Artem bomb on me that same day.

  Bane

  I’ll be outside of Gail’s place if you want to talk.

  No pressure, right?

  I took a few power naps on Gail’s front stairs, then at six in the morning was awakened by Beck’s text messages and phone calls. Reluctantly, I dragged my ass back home to take a shower. I needed another shave, and I needed not to deal with anything that wasn’t Jesse-related. I shot Beck a quick text.

  Bane

  Can’t train today.

  Beck

  Fuckinghateyoubro.

  I washed my hair and shaved, generally making sure I resembled a real human being, then hit the road back to Gail’s. I knew she had a shift, so that left Jesse alone. I rapped on the door as softly as humanly possible, and when she didn’t answer, decided the next best thing to do was to climb into the apartment through Gail’s window. Again—you should know better than to find the logic in that. I just had a bad hunch things were a little shittier than the usual my-boyfriend-is-a-shithead.

  Don’t get me wrong—Jesse had every reason to be mad at me. Furious, even. But her reaction suggested something more was happening.

  I padded toward Gail’s room in ground-eating strides and found Snowflake lying in bed, her arm flung over a pillow, staring blankly at the clock on the nightstand. I took a step deeper into the room, making myself known. She didn’t move.

  “Hi,” I said.

  She didn’t answer.

  “I got you your check.”

  Nothing.

  “Look, I fucked up…”

  “Leave.” Her voice was cold. I pressed my forehead against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut.

  “Not before we talk.”

  “That’s not for you to decide, Bane.” Bane. “You betrayed me. Not exactly a concept that’s foreign to me, but I’m getting real good at cutting my losses.”

  I moved over to her, losing control, losing her. That was the worst part. Knowing that I was losing her, and that she had every right to kick me out of her life after what I’d done. I crouched down beside the bed so that we were looking at each other, only she was still staring at the clock. I flipped the motherfucker down and snapped my fingers.

  Yup. Definitely losing my shit.

  “Hey. Listen.” I tried to grab her wrist so she would look at me, and that was a big mistake. She jumped up and out of the bed and pushed me. I didn’t move an inch, but the second time she did it, I stood up and took a step back. She pounced on me, slapping me across the face.

  Okay, I deserved that.

  Jesse swiveled on her heel, stepped into her Keds, and grabbed her keys. She was wearing Gail’s clothes, a floaty black dress that poured down all the way to her ankles. She got up and headed for the door.

  I chased her, realizing that it was the first time I’d ever chased after something. Anything.

  My whole life, people had come to me.

  For pot.

  For money.

  For sex.

  For networking. Hey, being the only guy who was from the wrong side of the tracks in a town that had no tracks had its appeal.

  It was the first time I was desperate not to lose someone, and she was slipping through my fingers like dust. I decided to keep my hands to myself and not touch her unless she ran straight into traffic, but that didn’t stop me from hunting her down. But as I was chasing her, it occurred to me that speaking would be a good idea at this point, too. But where would I start? The contract? Artem? Us? I didn’t know which part bothered her the most.

  “Jesse, fuck, Jesse. Stop. Just stop for one second. This bullshit thing with Artem wasn’t my fault. He was my counselor for a while, and he used to come to our house to make sure my mom fed me and clothed me and didn’t use me as a human ashtray. They hit it off. I had nothing to do with it. We didn’t know that he was married or that he had a daughter or whatever…” I said whatever. Why did I say whatever? It sounded…bad. Wrong. I couldn’t take it back, and I hated that I didn’t know how to get through to her. Jesse turned around at the door, the keys dangling in her fist.

  “Not married. My parents were never married. I’m not mad at you for that.”

  Ten gallons of air hit my lungs at the same time. Okay. That narrowed it down to the deal with Darren. I could work with that. She got out of the apartment. I shadowed her movements, watching as she slammed the door and locked it.

  “Darren tricked me. He doesn’t even have a fucking lisp, dude.”

  “I know.” She pocketed the keys in her backpack, and I waited for her to say something more, but she didn’t. Instead of heading toward the main street, like I thought she would, she took a sharp turn into an alleyway. I hurried after her, running my fingers over my hair.

  “Your stepfather knew I needed an investment. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” I said, then realized how fucking bad that sounded. “Okay. Yeah. I could have, and should have, but having sex with you was never a part of the plan. He wanted us to be friends, and I never thought I’d break that promise, anyway.”

  “Were we friends when I sucked your cock in your bed? When we had sex in your shower?” She chuckled darkly, pacing faster, giving me her back. The alleyway was long and narrow. It sliced two rows of stores, and was dark and full of huge-ass industrial garbage bins. It smelled like hell, and felt a lot like it, too.

  “Listen, you need to stop and turn the fuck around, because I’m going to say it once and only once. I don’t repeat myself, Jesse, and won’t make an exception for you.”

  I didn’t know where it came from. I just decided to mix shit up and try a different tactic. And whaddayaknow? It worked. Snowflake stopped and did as I asked. We were standing opposite to each other, panting hard.

  Do this, m
otherfucker, or regret not doing it for the rest of your life.

  I raised my hands to rub her arms before remembering that I’d lost that right about a day ago. I balled my fists beside my body instead.

  “Look, I didn’t know it’d be this way. I didn’t know being this way was even a fucking possibility. This feeling shit? I’m new to it, Jesse. But I swear, at no point, before or after I knew you, did I ever mean you any harm. I love you, Jesse. I fell in love with your soul before I even knew who you were. With that Pushkin tattoo, and that defiant stare, and the way you carried yourself like a disobedient goddess who didn’t belong here with all the snotty mortals of the beach. Even as I stand here now, I continue falling, because you’re a part of the only fucking person who resembled a father figure to me, and also a part of the reason I quit doing the toxic shit that reminded me who I was made of. You’re all my good parts wrapped together in a satin bow, Snowflake, and I can’t lose you. Because if I lose you, I stay with all the bad parts. I stay alone.”

  “You love me?”

  “Whollytrulymadly,” I mumbled, feeling like a dickless high school poem.

  She smiled serenely. Like that part I was talking about wasn’t there anymore. Then she turned her back to me and gestured with her arm like this place was her kingdom.

  “This is where it happened.”

  I blinked a few times before I realized. Shit.

  She turned back to me, stubbing her finger to my chest. “It doesn’t matter if you love me or not. For the sake of argument—I believe you. You explained everything in the text messages. I know you’re indebted to Darren now. Know that you got into a lot of trouble trying to save this—” She motioned between us. “Us. And there’s one tiny part of me that is actually impressed with how you handled all this. I mean, at least you didn’t take without asking or carve me like a Halloween pumpkin, right?” She snorted bitterly. “In my book, it counts for something. But it doesn’t matter, you see? Because I’m done. I need space. I need to find me. And I need to do this alone. My life is such a mess that even if I wanted to forgive you, I couldn’t, Bane. Not the way you need to be forgiven for us to be together. Consider this my official resignation from my job, and from you.”

  She headed to the other side of the alleyway, and I spotted her Rover parked there. I wanted to chase her some more, but knew that I’d be just like the other motherfuckers if I did.

  Jesse stopped by her vehicle, unlocked her door, and slid in. She sent me one last gaze. There was more pity there than resentment. I was standing there like a tool, holding her unclaimed check, looking fifty shades of pathetic.

  “Dad was right about one thing, Roman. The princess saves herself in this fairytale.”

  LET’S TALK ABOUT IT AT Mayra’s office.

  Mayra was helping Darren.

  That much, I was sure of. To what extent, I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter, because she was my fucking therapist, and therefore was breaking a gazillion codes.

  I drove around in circles for a while. My thoughts were divided and split in the middle. Fifty percent of me wanted to make a U-turn and get back into Bane’s arms, opening up to him, begging him to help me, using his connections to make sure Darren and the boys would never get anywhere near an innocent soul again, and fifty percent debated whether I should march into Mayra’s office and confront her or not.

  The decision came to me when I finally parked my car, realizing that I’d parked it in the same spot as on the first day I’d met Bane. I stepped out and rehashed every single meeting I’d had with Mayra. Little snippets of our conversations chipped at my memory.

  You could have lost your virginity in plenty of ways.

  Best not to think about it.

  You really should be moving on.

  Darren is a lovely person, Jesse. You should let him take care of you and your mother.

  Hypnosis? Oh, absolutely not, Jesse! You do not want to lose control. I’m afraid it will lead to a downward spiral.

  I got back to my car, my foot bouncing as I looked left and right. I saw Bane’s Harley parked a few rows down from my vehicle and knew that he was watching me. Somehow, I couldn’t find it in me to be pissed. He was looking after me, but he knew better than to approach me.

  I took out my phone. My messages were out of control.

  Pam

  Darren is missing. Come back home.

  Pam

  I really don’t have time for this, Jesse. We need to talk about this ASAP. I have a manicure between three and four. Any other time is good.

  Gail

  Chunky Monkey and McMafia date when I finish my shift. Don’t do anything stupid (like going back to your parents’ house. Or…Bane, LOL).

  Unknown Number (Maybe: John Beck)

  Have you heard from Bane? I’m trying to find the fucker everywhere.

  Unknown Number (Maybe: Hale Rourke)

  Hey. It’s Hale. Bane is not answering his phone and we have a business meeting in half an hour. Can you ping him?

  I didn’t answer any of them. Instead, I opened another text message.

  Jesse

  Hey, Kacey, it’s Jesse. Some things came up and I can’t visit Juliette this week. What are your plans?

  She answered immediately.

  Kacey

  Booked our flight for Thursday. We’ll be taking it from here. I’ll come back to Todos Santos probably next month to bring Imane and her nurse with us and work out the details with you. Thank you, Jesse. For everything.

  My heart was somersaulting in my chest, reminding me that I was still alive.

  I loved that Mrs. B was finally going to get what she deserved—her family back. Even though a part of me, and not a small part, was dying a slow death trying to come to terms with the idea that I would no longer have her by my side.

  I had nowhere to go. Nowhere to live. No job. No friends. No lead on what to do with my life. And that felt…oddly okay. Liberating, even. I was going to focus on building something of my own. Something that was completely mine.

  The first thing I did was drive to All Saints High. It was the middle of a school day, so I had to ask for permission to take pictures with my phone.

  “What for?” Principal Gabe Prichard sneered, not even bothering to lift his eyes from his paperwork sitting behind his desk. He was ridiculously young for his position, and this was his first year at All Saints High. Tall, dark, handsome, and disgustingly standoffish, the rumors said he’d completed his BA at the tender age of nineteen and was some sort of an educational maverick. As he asked me this, a trail of fangirls-slash-schoolgirls was standing behind me, waiting to be seen for whatever trouble they’d gotten themselves into purposely.

  “A project.” I remained vague.

  “What kind of project?” He frowned, finally meeting my eyes. I nibbled at my lower lip, looking shy and wholesome and all the things I needed to be. He hadn’t been here when I graduated. He didn’t know how bad things had been for me.

  “For a photography class,” I finally lied.

  He nodded. “No faces or students. No teachers. No staff. Nothing personal or intimate. Understood?”

  Oh, it was going to be personal. But just for me. “Yes, sir.”

  I spent the rest of the afternoon squatting next to a bench under a tree, where Jesse Carter is a SLUT was carved into the wood, and in the gymnasium, where the mirror was still cracked at the edge from when Wren’s friend, Ivory, tried to punch me and missed. I took pictures of every single piece of evidence there was. Most of it was still there, overlooked, much like my existence to the teachers after The Incident. High school is a great place to murder a soul. The deities don’t care, and the mortals are too busy trying to survive.

  I dug out the buried underwear Emery had stolen from my drawer and showed everyone, with the stain of my arousal from after we’d made out before things blew up.

  The taunts. The laughs. The torment. It was all there, between these walls, in the courtyard. In my heart.

 
By the time I got out of there, it was close to six in the evening. I drove down to a taco shack and bought myself a foil-wrapped dinner. I knew money was going to be tight and was contemplating asking Mrs. Belfort for a little cash, even though the idea made my stomach toss. I refused Bane’s check, trying to prove a point, but now I couldn’t even afford a Kit Kat. I found myself driving to El Dorado despite my best intentions. I had to pack a bag. I couldn’t walk around in Gail’s weird clothes. Besides, after the text message I had sent Darren, I very much doubted they were going to give me more crap.

  I parked in front of the mansion and opened the door. The only sounds noticeable were the crickets outside and the fridge producing some ice. I called Pam’s name a few times, not wanting to be ambushed, and when no one answered, relief washed over me. I proceeded with caution straight into my bedroom and filled my two bags with my stuff. I brought the bags down to my vehicle, about to climb behind the steering wheel, before I slapped my thigh.

  The Captain’s Daughter. I needed to take the book with me. It had belonged to my dad, and who knew what these two would do to it? It was the only thing I had left of his.

  The classics were all kept in Darren’s office library, because Pam believed “the staff” could get their hands on them and sell them to the highest bidder. Stupid, considering she was the staff not too long ago. No matter. I knew that there was no chance in hell Darren was in his office. He had a monitor that showed all the cameras recording around the house, streaming live. He would have seen me by now and tried to explain himself.

  Debating myself for a fraction of a second, I decided, screw it. My dad was more important than Darren, Pam, and their bullshit. I headed back into the house, this time to Darren’s office.

  The problem, I realized seconds after I opened the door, was that you always feel sorry for yourself until you realized things could get much worse. They say it’s better to be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie. I wanted to drown in lies after I opened that door and saw him.