Saint (A Dark Mafia Romance)(23)

I look out the window as we drive in silence.

“Look if you were with a guy, I- I mean, I deserve-”

“I told you, I was at a friend’s house.”

“Out here?”

Why Jayson, of all people? Because I have zero friends, that’s why. Because after months of digging this hole for myself, I don’t actually have anyone else to call. Sure, I’ve got my family, but they’re off doing their own thing. They’re off living their lives and getting married and having kids and careers and all that.

Me?

I’m still just…treading water, I guess.

Stella would have picked me up, I know that. She’d even have put Carter in the car and driven out here to this shit-hole area to pick me up, and probably wouldn’t even have asked any questions until tomorrow because she’s that good of a big sister.

Except, I’m supposed to be the good one. Maybe Ivy would have gotten into shit like this, but not me. I’m supposed to be knee-deep in paid offers from firms, not fleeing my kidnapper, who I may or may not be totally and completely inappropriately attracted to.

Cut out the rest, and all you’ve got is Jayson, who I called after running away from that factory building of Connor’s and finding shelter in the world’s shittiest corner store a half mile away.

Hey, I knew he had a car.

“Thanks for picking me up, too.”

He nods.

“Look, what I did was fucked up, I just-”

“That was my fault, Si,” he sighs. “Dude, that was me, I just- it was a misunderstanding, you know? I really thought you were done with me that night, and the next night, with that girl, she just-” Jayson sighs, shaking his head. “I was lonely and afraid you were gone, Sierra.”

I bite my lip, eyeing him. “I set your practice space on fire, all your stuff-”

“It’s just stuff.”

“Does your band hate me?”

“Nah, they’re mad at me.” He laughs. “Well, okay, they might hate you too.”

The difference between him and Connor is striking. Jayson’s small, and furtive - eyes darting as he cautiously takes a corner. I’ve only driven with Connor once, and I was in the trunk, but I imagine him driving purposefully, with confidence.

And I can’t believe I’m still fucking thinking about him like that. I’m still sitting here thinking about that stupid fucking kiss, or the way his hands just grabbed me and tossed me over his powerful shoulder like a caveman.

I’m still thinking about how wet that gruff, dangerous, coldly calculating man made me.

This must be what Stockholm syndrome is.

“So, what happened with your friend?”

I blink, startled from the filthy and entirely wrong thoughts of my fucking kidnapper.

“Um, nothing, she- she had to go someplace.”

“And she left you out here, dressed like that?”

“No, she left and then I went out to grab a soda, and the keys…”

I trail off. Somehow, Jayson seems to let it go.

“Well, I’m glad you called.”

“Me too.”

I’m not going to think about whatever bullshit about people looking for me Connor was trying to feed me when I made my escape because I know that was just his last-ditch attempt to keep me in that place. For now, all I need is a ride, and maybe a couch to sleep on, and tomorrow I’ll take the train to my parent’s house in Shelter Harbor and figure out what the hell I’m going to do.



“Thanks.”

I take the beer from Jayson as I sit on his couch.

“Look, if this is weird, I can call a friend.”

Right.

I’ve told Jayson that I’ve left my apartment keys in “my friend’s” place. I’m not mentioning that the man who kidnapped me has my driver’s license and knows where I live.

“Or like, get a hotel or something.”

“Sierra, it’s cool, really. You can grab my bed, and I’ll stay out here on the-”

“The couch is fine, thanks.”

He nods.

“Hey, can I…” He looks down. “Look, can I play you something?”

I raise a brow, a smile peeking at my lips. “Play me something?”

“A song. I’ve-” he sighs. “Look, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since the other night, and I know I fucked up. I just know you’re too good for me is all, and I was just waiting for you to realize that and walk away.”

He’s really laying it on thick, and while I am glad he answered the phone and came to get me tonight, that doesn’t mean I don’t still think he’s a slime-ball for cheating on me.

“Look, can we talk about us,” I wag a finger between us. “Can we talk about that later?”