Bad Boy Saint (The Bad Boy Series Book 1) Read online

  “That’s a Vulcan greeting, not a Girl Scout's salute,” I said with a laugh. I could see her smile through the gloom.

  She liked me, despite what shit her big brother spread about me—all of it true, no doubt. That made me feel warm inside. If she were anyone else, I 'd be unable to say no.

  "Look, I really shouldn't."

  That was three times now I’d turned her down. I thought that was heroic, and I doubted I could turn her down a fourth time.

  “Not even a peck on the cheek?” she said, sounding so disappointed.

  We were sitting beside each other on the blanket and I wanted so badly to pull her onto my lap and kiss her, then take off her bikini top and suck on those delicious globes… But Graham's words kept ringing in my mind.

  “Just one kiss and then it’s the meteor shower,” I said, laughing at myself. “No trying to seduce me with your hot body.”

  “So, you think I’m hot?” I heard the hope in her voice and couldn’t believe she was unsure of her desirability.

  “Do I think you’re hot?” I grinned. “Damn, girl…”

  She leaned over and I leaned over, and we kissed. Lightly. Gently. Just two mouths pressing softly against each other. Her eyes were closed, and mine were open, and despite my best intentions, I imagined fucking her as I kissed her, mouth open, sucking her tongue into mine.

  Then a bright light blazed in my eyes.

  “Hey, what the hell?” came a male voice.

  Graham.

  Crap.

  Celia and I pulled apart and Graham pointed the flashlight directly at me so that I had to hold up my hand in front of my eyes.

  “I told you my sister was off limits, man,” Graham said, his voice nearly a growl. “What the fuck?”

  “Hey…” Celia's back straightened. “I’m all grown up, Graham. I can kiss who I want.” She looked back at me possessively.

  “Not him.” Graham scowled at me. “I told you he’s a male slut, Celia. Besides that, his family is mafia. He’s not the kind of guy you want to get tangled up with. God, it isn’t even your first week away from home and you’ve already hooked up with the most notorious womanizer on campus?”

  She stood up and brushed sand off her legs. “We didn’t hook up. Besides, I can look after myself.”

  “I thought you could, but then I find you alone on the beach with him? Come on, Celia…”

  “We were watching the meteor shower,” I said defensively, standing beside Celia.

  “Yeah, right.” Graham gave a sardonic laugh. “Tell me another one, Mr. Comedy. I'll be talking to my stepfather, telling him what you did, so you better be prepared. As for you," he said to Celia, grabbing her arm, pulling her roughly away from me, "you come with me.”

  I wanted to defend her, tell him to let go, that she was an adult, but I said and did nothing. He was right to take her away from me. I was bad for her.

  I stood and watched the two of them marching up the beach to the parking lot where Graham’s Jeep was parked. Celia glanced back and waved at me.

  Graham's threat to tell Spencer made my decision so much easier. I knew that if I wanted to have any kind of future, I'd have to make a clean break with my family. I'd join the Marines and to start a life completely divorced from them.

  Little did I know how much that decision would cost me, and how it would drive me even more deeply into my family's clutches.

  Chapter 9

  Celia

  As we drove up the highway back home to Boston, I quietly fumed. My self-appointed champion and protector—one I had no need of and resented completely—sat beside me, quiet now that he had taken me away from the party.

  He knew how angry I was that he decided to butt into my personal life. Hadn't I had enough of that from my stepfather? I though Graham understood that my moving from our family home to my dorm at Harvard was my escape from the tyranny of Spencer. My mother wasn't bad, but she was too tripped out on OxyContin to argue with him, and only too happy to have him run things so she could drift in her drug-induced haze.

  It wasn't her fault. The car accident that broke her back and killed my father had left her immobilized with pain and almost paralyzed. It was OxyC or nothing and so she gladly dozed on her sofa all day, sleeping through soap operas so she was no longer in pain. Luckily, she had a legitimate reason to get prescription pain medicines, and so would never have to resort to heroin like so many other people addicted to prescription drugs did.

  But she had been an absent parent to me and Graham for the past twelve years. That left it wide open for Spencer, bastard assistant DA, to rule over us like we were his own personal fiefdom. He seemed to take delight in his control over me, so that I was nothing more than a peasant under his authoritarian control.

  I’d thought that when Graham took me to Hunter's family house on Cape Ann, I'd finally be free to be an adult. I had such a great day talking to Hunter and then, when I had some alone time with him, finally getting kissed—really kissed, and by my lifelong crush. Then, Graham butted in.

  I'd never been so mortified in all my life as I was by the way Graham treated Hunter. It was really low.

  Graham and Hunter had been the two best friends in all the world for most of their lives. Then Spencer, that bastard, got in between them, threatening to go after Spencer's dad unless Graham cut ties with Hunter completely after grad school.

  I hated him.

  If my mother had been healthy, there was no way she would have let him force Graham to cut Hunter out of his life. If they had started a business the way they’d always planned, Hunter would stay in Boston. They would have kept the business totally separate from the Saint family business, and done things right. No one wanted to be clean more than Hunter did. Hadn't Graham said that again and again?

  Then Spencer put an end to that dream. And because of that, Hunter would now join the Marines…

  We arrived at the house in Boston, and I rushed in without a word to Graham, I was still so mad. I thought I could slip in, say hi to mom, and then sneak into my bedroom without running into Spencer, who was usually holed up in his mahogany-lined office on the second floor, but I was wrong. My back was to the door while I unpacked my bag, so I didn’t see him march into my room.

  "What's this I hear about you and that Saint thug?" Spencer said, his hands on his hips. "Haven't I told you again and again that he's off limits? His family's corrupt and I don't want Graham to have anything to do with him or the brothers. Then Graham tells me that you were alone with him and were kissing him?"

  I turned back to my bag, my cheeks hot. He strode over to the bed and grabbed me roughly, turning me to face him.

  "Answer me! What did you think you were doing?"

  "None of your damn business," I said, and straightened up, pulling my arm away. "I'm an adult and you have no authority over me so leave me alone."

  He slapped me across the face, his hand landing with a solid thwack. I staggered back and held my cheek, my eyes filling with tears.

  "I got you into Harvard, so I do have authority over you, you little slut," Spencer hissed, spraying saliva with each word. "You disobey me, you bring discredit to this family with any slutty ways, and I'll pull the plug and you'll never go to Harvard Law."

  I turned back, tears streaming down my cheeks, and finished unpacking my beach bag. Spencer stood behind me, and I could almost feel the anger radiating off him. At times like this, when Spencer got violent, I knew not to say another word or I’d get a second slap—and maybe this time, it would be a lot harder.

  When I was done, I slipped by him, making for the bathroom. I was so angry at that moment that I couldn’t speak. I heard Spencer leave the room and I finally relaxed, glad I'd gotten off lightly.

  Then I popped into my mom's room, only to find her asleep, the lights dim. I didn't want to wake her, so I carefully closed the door and went to the kitchen. Graham and Spencer were in the dining room, standing in the doorway leading to the deck. When they saw me at the fridge, Spencer
came right over.

  "I'm rethinking letting you go to live at the dorm after what you did tonight."

  "My trust fund pays for that," I said quietly. "I have every right to move in."

  I was surprised that Spencer didn't slap me, but Graham was standing there. Spencer was always more reluctant to hurt me when Graham was around and had started to stand up to him. Graham was taller and stronger than Spencer so he usually just yelled and shamed me instead.

  "I told Graham to keep tabs on you. He has friends at the dorm who’ll watch over you, so you’d better be good. If I hear one word about you sleeping around, drinking, or doing any drugs, you’re cut off from this family or any help you might need getting into Harvard Law. I can get you in, Celia. I can keep you out.” Spencer came closer, his finger pointing in my face. "And don't you even think about talking to that Saint thug Hunter. Do you hear me?"

  I didn’t answer. Beside me, Graham cleared his throat, like he was reminding Spencer not to hit me.

  “I said, did you hear me?” Spencer shoved his face next to mine and I was unable to avoid looking in his beady little eyes.

  “Yes,” I said finally.

  “Yes, what?” he asked, not giving an inch.

  "Yes, sir," I replied, knowing he wouldn’t stop until I called him 'sir.'

  “All right then,” he said and stood up, his hands on his hips. “Don’t screw up.”

  I turned and left the kitchen, tears in my eyes.

  The next evening, Graham drove me to the dorm, barely saying anything to each other. I wasn’t sad—just really, really angry. I needed time to cool off after my fight with Spencer the previous night and the fact that Graham told him what happened.

  When we arrived at the dorm, Graham helped me with my bags, following me up the stairs to the dorm’s entry. Once inside, we made our way down the hallways to the rooms, past several large open areas where students were seated, talking and laughing. We found my room and I opened the door, hauling my things inside.

  “Well, here you are,” Graham said and glanced around the small bedroom. “You’ll love it here. I know Spencer can be a bastard, but at least here you’ll be free."

  Despite everything, I couldn't say mad at Graham.

  "Be careful,” he said and came over to me, looking into my eyes. “Guys are a bunch of horndogs. Don’t let them have anything until you know they respect you and care about you, okay?”

  “I will,” I said, wanting to make him worry less. “I understand.”

  He hugged me. When he pulled back, he frowned. "That's not pretty," he said, and touched my cheek. "He hit you too hard."

  I held my hand up to my cheek. "Do I have a black eye?"

  He shook his head. "The start of one. I can see where his hand hit your cheek. What a bastard."

  He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek softly and then turned to go.

  “Graham?” I said before he left. “Hunter turned me down. I was the one who wanted him to kiss me. I was the one who pushed. He refused me three times.”

  Graham said nothing for a moment, his back to me. “He should have refused you four.”

  Then he left and I was alone.

  After I washed the tears off my face and fixed a cup of tea with my new kettle, I unpacked, emptying my bags into my tiny chest of drawers. Once I was finished, I took out my cell and texted Amy, my best friend from high school.

  Celia: I’m here.

  Amy: Oh, Joy! How was the party? I wish I could have come…

  Celia: Shit went down.

  Amy: Why? What the hell happened?

  Celia: Didn’t even make it to the end of the night. Come over and we’ll have some tea while I finish unpacking.

  Amy: Tea? I’ll bring some beer.

  Celia: Better bring some hemlock as well.

  Amy: That bad? I’ll bring some chocolate, too.

  Celia: You are my savior…

  I smiled, glad that even if I hadn't been able to hook up with Hunter at the beach party, I was free now, on my own and away from Spencer. I'd be able to spend all my free time with Amy. She always lifted my spirits.

  When she arrived, slipping in my open door, she reached into her bag and pulled out two beers.

  “There you go,” she said when I took one and opened it with an extra bottle opener I’d snagged from the kitchen at home. I opened hers and we sat on the tiny two-seater sofa. We clinked bottlenecks and then each took a sip.

  “What the hell happened to you?” she said, leaning closer to peer at me. “Don’t tell me. Some guy looked at you and Spencer the rat bastard decided to use you as his personal punching bag.”

  “He and I got into a fight.” I felt my cheek. “Is there a mark?”

  “Damn straight there is. He’s such a monster. You could charge him for assault.”

  I shook my head. “He's Assistant DA. I doubt anyone would believe me.”

  She took her cell and snapped a photo of my cheek. “Evidence,” she said and shook her head. “To add to my file. Just in case you ever want to press charges."

  "If I did, no one would believe me. Spencer's a pillar of the community. A leader in the Church. The second most powerful attorney in Boston."

  "I know," Amy said and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "It sucks. Just put your head down and forget about Spencer. You're free of him now."

  I nodded and took a sip of beer.

  "I hope so."

  My first day back at Harvard was exciting and tiring, rushing from class to class, getting to know the where all my classrooms were, meeting up with my fellow dorm mates, and of course, trying to keep up with all the reading and assignments. It was going to be a lot of work, but I welcomed it. I was so glad to be on my own and away from Spencer for the first time, I didn't care how much work I had.

  Graham called me early Tuesday night and asked how things were going.

  "Great," I said, plopping down on the sofa to rest. "I really like my philosophy class. It sounds great, plus I'm taking astronomy. I love it so far."

  "You are such a geek," Graham said with a laugh. "Astronomy…"

  I smiled at the gently chiding but proud tone of his voice. "What are you up to, now that you're a free man?"

  "I'm going to watch Conor Saint in a fight at the gym tonight."

  "What?" I said, surprised that he would go, considering what had happened at the beach party. "Why? I thought you and Hunter were on the outs."

  "Nah," he said, sounding tired. "No harm, no foul. Besides, he's decided to join up. He's going to Parris Island in a few weeks. He'll be gone for who knows how long so I decided to go meet him for a drink and watch the fight for old time's sake."

  "He really wanted to go into business with you, Graham. I hate Spencer so much…"

  "Forget Spencer. You're a free woman now."

  "When I talked to Hunter, he said if he joined, he wanted to go into special operations," I said, a sinking feeling inside of me. "He'll be doing dangerous things, going behind enemy lines."

  "Yeah, but better that than stay here and get mixed up in the mob."

  "I know," I said and chewed a fingernail. "Maybe Amy and I will show up, watch the fight with you guys."

  "No, Celia. You should stay at your dorm," Graham said, his voice firm. "This is your first week of class and you don't want to start out on the wrong foot. You're in second year. You have to buckle down and study."

  "I want to say goodbye to Hunter," I protested. "He was always really nice to me."

  "I knew I shouldn't have said anything," Graham said and I could tell he was upset. "Hunter's not the guy for you, Celia. He's as much of a hound dog as any. Besides, he's leaving, so there's no future for you with him."

  "I know that. I want to watch the fight. Conor's going to the Olympics one day."

  "Yeah, right," Graham said, like he didn't believe me. He knew me better than that. I wanted to go so I could see Hunter one more time before he left. He'd been my schoolgirl crush for a decade. The older boy I’d alw
ays wanted to kiss—and more. "Do what you want," he said with a sigh. "I can't stop you."

  "I will do what I want," I said. "I moved into the dorm to get away from Spencer and so I could do what I want and go where I want, when I want. You know, to be free."

  "If you think Hunter is going to pay you any attention, you're wrong. He'll be partying with the boys and will be looking for a good time, not a girlfriend."

  "I'm not going so I can be his girlfriend. I just want to say goodbye."

  "Okay, but don't say I didn't try to warn you. You'll be disappointed when he's too busy to pay you any attention."

  "Whatever," I said, and hung up. Then I texted Amy.

  Celia: Wanna go watch a fight? It's Hunter's brother Conor. He's going to go to the Olympics. He's really good.

  It took a few minutes, but she responded.

  Amy: Ooh. Is he cute? Will Hunter be there?

  Celia: Who, Hunter? Could you possibly be referring to Hunter Saint, one of the Saint brothers? Just the most gorgeous hunk of man who ever put a pair of boxing gloves on my hands and let me hit him?

  Celia: That Hunter? The brave Marine who wants to serve his country Hunter? The one who started to kiss me on Saturday night only to be rudely interrupted by my busybody brother? Why would you possibly think I wanted to go because of him? ;)

  Amy: I'll be right over.

  Chapter 10

  Celia

  About an hour later, after Amy and I had changed clothes and fussed with our hair, I took one last look in the bathroom mirror.

  "You still have that bruise," she said, pointing to the bluish mark on my cheek from Spencer's hand. "Here. Cover it up with some of this." She handed me a tube of concealer.

  "It's tender," I said as I applied the make-up. "Does it still show?"

  She made a face. "It'll be dark in the gym. No one will see it."

  "Okay," I said and tucked the tube back into my bag.

  We left the dorm and took her car to Boston, arriving at Saint Brothers Gym in about half an hour. After we found a parking spot, we walked the rest of the way to the gym. It had been years since I was there, but it looked almost exactly the same. The gym had been in the family for decades and had that old-school feel to it. It had been a local hangout for kids from South Boston for years, and hopeful young boxers and fighters went there to learn how to fight.