Page 31 of Sainte
Sainte gets back in the car, and we take off. When we get back to the clubhouse, he ushers me straight to my room.
“Find something comfortable to wear. By tonight, you are gonna wanna rip those clothes off. Everything will hurt, and you will be frantic.”
“But, Sainte—”
“Do as your told,” he says, cutting me off. “Don’t make me ask you again.”
I walk to my dresser and rummage through my things. I pull out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then walk into the bathroom.
“Oh, hell no. You change right here.”
“But—”
He grabs my arm. “I wasn’t kidding about me and you being glued at the hip. From now on, Honey, when I say jump, you fuckin’ ask how high.”
I nod. He’s right. I begin to undress and suddenly I feel self-conscious. He senses my distress and says, “Come on, Honey. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
Well, he does have a point.
“You have things in here you like to do?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. What do you do in your spare time?”
“Play on my phone.”
He looks frustrated and pulls out his phone again. “Do you like smutty romance novels?” he asks as he’s typing on his phone.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“Like what?”
“Amy Cecil has a new romantic suspense out about Jack the Ripper. I think it is calledRipper.”
He finishes typing and puts his phone away.
I finish changing and sit back down on the bed. I need a hit. Anxiety washes over me, so I think of ways to dodge Sainte, get my phone back, and call Slash. I’m sure even after the scare he just received, he’ll do anything for money. I look at my watch. Fuck, it’s only been an hour and a half since my last hit. I’ve got a bigger problem than I thought if I can’t go longer between hits. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t get the coke now that makes me want it more.
“You gotta work through it, baby,” he says. How the fuck does he know, and why is he calling me baby? And why the fuck did he tell Slash I was his girl?
“You seem to think you know what I’m going through, but you have no fucking clue.”
He walks to the bed and sits next to me. “I know exactly what you are going through. I’ve been there.”
“You have?” To say I’m shocked is an understatement. Never in a million years did I imagine Sainte had been an addict. He’s always so controlled.
“Yeah, a long time ago.”
I open my mouth to ask him about it, but he quickly jumps in.
“And no, I’m not talking about it. We’ll save that for another time.”
I pout. “Fine.”
Chapter 11
Sainte
