The Saint: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Haven Grace Prep Book 2) Read online

  Relief washes over me as I hear the engine of Grayson’s overpriced sports car approach. The asshole may have a false sense of reality about the shit we’re in, but at least he came.

  “Thank God. I thought you were going to pussy out on me,” I tell him as soon as I get in the passenger seat.

  He scoffs. “Fuck you.”

  “As I’ve told you before, you’re pretty but I don’t swing that way.”

  It’s been all of five seconds and I can already feel the tension in the air. The two of us know what we’re driving into, but neither of us know what will become of it. It’s like there’s a flashing red sign saying to turn around and run, but we have no choice. They’ll kill us both without flinching.

  I put the address into his GPS and stare out the window, hoping to hell I make it out of this alive—unlike Craig.

  “What the fuck did you do?” I shout, looking between Grayson and the now-motionless body lying on the ground. “Hayworth!”

  He doesn’t answer me. His eyes don’t even look in my direction. They stay completely trained and focused, watching blood pool. I don’t need to check for a pulse to know there is no more life in Mr. Montgomery. He’s dead. He’s dead, and I’m in the middle of the crime scene.

  “I had to protect her,” Grayson mutters.

  Looking at him as if he’s gone crazy, I grab him by the shoulders and force his gaze to meet mine. “Yeah? And how the fuck are you going to do that from prison, tough guy?”

  As if in shock, he takes a few steps away and sits down, staring up at the night sky. What’s scary is that he doesn’t even seem remorseful or even the slightest bit panicked. It’s like he knew what he needed to do, and he did it. Simple as that.

  I know I should leave. Go somewhere to calm down and figure out how we’re going to play this off in the morning. It’s not like he was a good guy by any means. They’ll probably assume it was a drug deal gone wrong or some shit. But as I go to walk away, a flashing red light catches my eye. A fucking camera, and it’s got us both. He’s committed a murder, and I’m an accomplice to it. We’re either going to go away for years, or be on the run for life—either way, we’re both screwed. Fucking Grayson.

  Taking out my phone, I scroll to the one contact I had hoped I’d never have to call. It’s dangerous, and bound to eventually leave us worse off than we are now, but it’s my only option. I reluctantly hit the call button and bring the phone to my ear.

  “Yeah?” the man answers.

  “It’s Vaughn. I’m going to need your help. It’s urgent.”

  WE PULL UP BEHIND the seedy dive-bar, where a black Town Car already waits for us. Four men stand around, and there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that all of them are armed. That’s why they chose this place—it’s vacant enough for them to dispose of us with ease if needed.

  “Let me do the talking,” I tell him. “You have a tendency to say and do the wrong fucking shit.”

  Thankfully, he seems to finally understand the severity of the situation and keeps his mouth shut as we get out of the car. I nod at the men and stand at the front of the car. Grayson comes up beside me, his hands clasped behind his back. Being as I sent him away when everything went down, this is the first time he’s seeing any of these guys face to face. It’s clear to even a casual observer that they’re anything but friendly.

  The back door of the car opens, and a man in his early fifties steps out. Despite his somewhat young age, his gray hair makes him appear older. The charcoal suit he’s wearing is perfectly tailored to his body and must have cost a fortune, not that money bears any meaning to him. He’s as rich as he is powerful.

  “Mr. Vaughn,” He greets me.

  I nod respectfully. “Cal. Good to see you again.”

  He chuckles. “You’re a lot of things Knox, but you’re no liar. Don’t start now.” His attention turns to the moron next to me. “And you must be Grayson Hayworth. Quite a conundrum you got yourself in, son.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is murder a hobby of yours? Should I expect to have more messes to clean up?”

  “No, sir. He was going to kill my girlfriend. I did what was necessary to protect her.”

  Cal processes his words for a moment before answering. “Very well, though I’m not sure a judge would have agreed with you based on what we cleared from the recording that night.”

  Of course he fucking watched before getting rid of it. The piece of shit probably got off on it. He seems like the kind who would get hard watching someone die. Sick bastard.

  “I agree with you, and I appreciate everything you did to make it go away.”

  “Yes, well, nothing comes for free, son. It’ll do you some good to remember that.” He leans back against the hood of his expensive car and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure if Knox told you, but I own an underground fight ring over on the east side of town.”

  Grayson seems intrigued by the information, but he shouldn’t be. “He didn’t mention that.”

  “Good,” Cal says, pleased with his answer. “The only reason it stays a secret is because people don’t speak about it. First rule of fight club and all that.”

  He was trying to trick him. Give him a reason to take my ass out. My stress level reaches new heights, and this meeting can’t end soon enough. Thankfully, he seems to get bored of fucking with us rather quickly and gets to the point.

  “Recently, one of my best fighters met an unfortunate fate, and I need to replace him.”

  My brows furrow. “Who was it?”

  “Ashton.”

  The instant the name leaves his mouth, my body goes ice cold—and it has nothing to do with the weather. There are two different levels in The Underground. The first is the kind I fight in. They’re standard, with three rounds, and, while people get hurt, everyone makes it out alive. The second, however, is the higher, more intense level. I’ve always stayed away from them because while the bets are more than twenty times what the lower level pays, they’re vicious. Kill-or-be-killed kind of fights. The amount of lives that have been lost in that ring are immeasurable.

  Ashton fought in the latter.

  “With all due respect, Cal, regardless of what you may have seen in that video, Grayson is nowhere near ready for those fights.”

  He lets out a deep laugh, making the guys around him follow suit. “Don’t be ridiculous, boy. I wouldn’t risk my money like that.” He smirks, and I dread the next words that come from his mouth. “You will be replacing Ashton. Grayson will replace you in the regulated brawls. This way, I cash in on both levels. It’s a win-win. Well, for me, anyway.”

  I feel like I’m going to throw up. If I wasn’t afraid of being seen as weak, I would—all over his leather shoes that probably cost more than my fucking house.

  Every inch of me wants to protest.

  To refuse.

  To punch Grayson in the face for getting me into this shit.

  But I can’t.

  Anything other than agreeing will get me killed, though I may end up that way anyway, with the shit he’s making me do. I have no choice but to obey and hope to hell I make it out alive.

  Cal nods to one of his henchmen, and I’m handed a packet. “Inside is the name of a gym. You are to be there tomorrow night at eight so Jackson can train you. He’s the best around, and I need you two in impeccable shape.” He fixates his eyes on me. “I’ve also given you some information on your first opponent, though that’s not a luxury you should get used to.”

  “Understood,” I say briefly. The only thing I want right now is to get the hell out of here.

  As if he can sense my discomfort, he smiles victoriously and nods once. “Very well, boys. Your first fight is three weeks from today. Be ready.”

  Grayson and I don’t need to be told twice. We get back into his car, and he backs out of the alley as I try to keep myself from vomiting in his precious car. Once we’re out of sight, I punch the ceiling with full force.

  “Motherfucker!” />
  Pretty boy stays quiet in the driver’s seat as he navigates us through town. To be honest, it’s probably better he stays that way. Anything that comes out of his mouth may cause me to snap, and I take no responsibility for what I’ll do if that happens.

  I put Zayn’s address into his GPS, silently telling him to take me there instead of home. The whole drive, the only thing running through my mind are the guys I’ve seen get carried out of The Underground for being in those fights. That ring is known around the circuit as The Death Trap due to the number of people who have died in there. It’s no fucking joke, and now, I have no choice but to be a part of it.

  Grayson pulls up to the house, and I can hear the music pulsing before I open the door.

  “Thank fuck,” I murmur, relieved.

  Not even saying goodbye, I get out of the car and slam the door behind me. I’m bound to find something at this party to take the edge off. Just as I’m halfway to the porch, however, Grayson calls out for me.

  “Knox, don’t do anything stupid.”

  My body tenses. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He raises his hands in a sign of peace. “I’m just saying, don’t do anything that will make it hard for you to train tomorrow night. You heard Cal. We need to be in good shape.”

  “Don’t try to tell me what to fucking do.” I storm back over to him and shove my finger into his chest. “You are the reason for this! I’m in this mess, have to risk my goddamn life, because of you! You don’t get to have an opinion on what I do!”

  I know if I don’t go inside, I’m going to leave him in no condition to train tomorrow. Using all the restraint I can manage, I force myself to turn around and walk away.

  “Knox,” he calls out.

  “Fuck off, Pretty Boy.”

  4

  DELANEY

  I look at the shirt my sister has in her hand, scrunching my face up in distaste. She sighs exasperatedly and throws it down onto the floor with the rest of them.

  “Laney, that’s the fifth one you’ve turned down,” she complains.

  Giving her an innocent grin, I shrug. “It’s not my fault all your clothes look like they’re missing half the material.”

  “It’s called fashion.”

  “It’s called public indecency.”

  Savannah chuckles from her place on my bed. Tess turns to glare at her. “Watch it, bitch. I’m still not sure how I feel about you yet.”

  As my sister goes to fetch another shirt, Sav glances up from her phone and rolls her eyes. She acts like Tessa disliking her doesn’t matter, but I know it gets under her skin. I’ve talked to my sister about it as much as I can with always the same outcome—she needs time. After Savannah disappeared when we were eleven, it was hard for me. I had lost both my best friends in such a short time, and it made me even more hesitant to make new ones. That only got worse when Sav showed up at our high school and acted like she didn’t even know who Tessa and I were.

  Knowing her story now, I can understand why she made the choices she did, but I also see where Tess is coming from. If I watched someone hurt her that way, I probably wouldn’t forgive them so quickly either. I love Savannah to death, but she can stand to work for it a little.

  “Okay, what about this one?”

  Tess comes back in, holding a black shirt I’d never buy, but it’s the best out of the options so far. At least this one has sleeves and covers my belly button. The cleavage is a little much, but if I tell her no again, she might rip my head off.

  “It’s cute,” I say honestly.

  She cheers at her small victory then stops. “Now for bottoms. I’m thinking miniskirt.”

  The smile drops right off my face. “It’s January.”

  “Oh, please.” She waves me off dismissively. “Once we get a little booze in you, you’ll warm right up.”

  My eyes widen as they meet Savannah’s, and I can tell she’s trying to mask her amusement. This is going to be a long night.

  PULLING UP TO THE house, I can already tell this is nothing like what I’m used to. For one, the house is only a third of the size Jace’s, and not nearly as fancy. Thankfully, Sav helped talk Tess into letting me wear jeans before she left to go spend the night with Grayson. Apparently, he texted her and said his mom was going to his aunt’s for the weekend—aka they’re going to be indisposed for the next forty-eight hours.

  I follow Tessa inside, and the scent of weed and alcohol instantly fills my nose. It’s not a very pleasant smell, but I assume everyone here is far too trashed to mind it. Either that or they’re so used to it they don’t even notice.

  So many people are crammed into this house that I feel claustrophobic. I grab my sister’s hand to keep from getting lost in the crowd as she leads us through the house and into the living room. As soon as she sees Easton, she releases me and jumps into his arms. Great. I’m already getting ditched.

  “Guys, this is my sister, Delaney,” she says with a wave of an arm. “Laney, this is Gage, Stone, and Zayn.”

  I sport a shy, yet uncomfortable, smile as the three of them blatantly check me out. Recognizing the black-haired one as the guy Knox got into a car with the other day, I start to wonder if he’s here. As I subtly look around, I don’t find him anywhere, but I see plenty of other stuff I’m not used to.

  A girl snorting a line of coke off a guy’s stomach.

  A couple practically having sex in the corner.

  And what I’m pretty sure is a crappy attempt at a secret blow job.

  I don’t know what I expected, coming here, but it certainly wasn’t this.

  MAKING SAVANNAH THE WINNER of the bet, it only takes Tessa twenty-seven minutes before she sneaks off somewhere with Easton and leaves me to fend for myself. I knew it would happen eventually, but I thought she’d at least stay by my side for an hour. A part of me considers leaving—it’s not like she’d notice I’m gone—but I promised her I’d give this place two hours to win me over.

  Reluctantly, I decide to stick it out and head into the kitchen to get a drink. Bottles of liquor cover the counters, and a group of people hoard around what I assume is the beer. I go to the fridge and open it in search of water. Just as I grab a bottle, the sound of someone behind me catches me off guard.

  “You lost?” he asks, and goose bumps raise across my skin as I recognize that voice. I straighten up and turn around, coming face to face with the guy who has plagued my mind for the last couple weeks. Knox Vaughn. “Keg is over there.” His head gestures toward the crowd in the corner of the room.

  “Oh, n-no, I’m okay,” I mutter. “I just wanted water.”

  He snorts and stares at the bottle in my hand like it’s diseased. “Who comes to a party and drinks water?”

  “Me, apparently.”

  His gaze moves down to my cleavage and he leans back against the counter as he bites his lip. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a beer?”

  I shake my head faster than necessary. “My dad said beer makes you fat.” Ugh, did I really just say that?

  He raises his brows before his expression changes to a smirk. Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, he lifts it up to reveal perfectly toned abs. I gulp. “Your daddy lied.”

  For the first time in my life, the thoughts that run through my head are anything but innocent. The only thing I can think to do is get the hell out of here and away from him. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what a guy like him looks for at these kind of parties, and I’m nothing like the girls here.

  I SEARCH FOR TESSA for thirty minutes straight, which is longer than the time I’ve spent with her at this stupid party, but I come up empty. She’s probably in a room somewhere, having sex with her boyfriend, like everyone else here. Meanwhile, I’m in the middle of what could probably constitute an orgy, and all I want is to go home. If only I could get Tess’s keys.

  Taking a break from looking, I sit down on the couch and start to scroll through my phone. Maybe if I stay still, she’ll end up finding me. Yea
h, wishful thinking. I consider texting Savannah and asking her to come get me, but I don’t want to interrupt her time with Grayson. Besides, checking her phone is probably the last thing on her mind.

  A couple collapses onto the couch next to me, their mouths not separating for a second as they basically try to eat each other’s faces. I scoot over slightly to give them more room, but it doesn’t do much. I feel something on my thigh. Looking down, I notice the guy is sliding his hand up my leg as he makes out with someone else. I cringe and push it off, but he puts it right back.

  “Uh, excuse me,” I say.

  The girl breaks the kiss and turns toward me. When she sees his hand on me and watches me push him off, I expect her to be pissed. Instead, however, she smiles.

  “Don’t worry, babe. I’m cool with sharing.” She nods toward the guy. “Kiss him. He’s really good at it.”

  Jumping up so fast my vision blurs, I speed-walk away from them and out of the living room entirely. What I need is a second to myself—just a minute to get my head on straight before enduring more of this train wreck of a party.

  My first thought is the bathroom, but when I find it, the line is twenty people long. That won’t work. My eyes land on a set of stairs. If luck is on my side, I’ll be able to find an empty bedroom for a minute or two. I slip through the group of people and make my way up.

  The first three rooms either have locked doors or enough noise coming from them for me to know they’re occupied. The fourth, however, appears to be vacant. I slip inside and shut the door behind me, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as soon as I’m away from the chaos. It isn’t until someone chuckles that I realize I’m not alone after all.