Page 24 of Saint
“Aw hell, you say it like he’s ugly or something,” she scowled.
“No, girl. I doubt ugly exists in their family tree. From what I’ve seen so far, it’s all fine, handsome, and gorgeous.”
“Okay, well, you let me know when I can pull up to the cookout to snatch him up, but first things first. How the hell did you get away from Javier’s weird ass? And don’t tell me it’s because you met someone new. Hell, I’m on red alert at this point. This new person could be just as weird.”
I hadn’t really thought my story through when I gave her the address to Saint’s house. Opting to go with the flow, I hoped she believed the lie I had yet to concoct. I hated being dishonest with my friend, but I wasn’t going to tell her that I’d up and married Saint—not now and likely not ever if I could manage to keep my story straight for another fifty weeks.
“I met him and his brother on the beach shortly after finding out that Javier was up to no good. I ran out of the villa Javier and I were in just before he attempted to get intimate with me.” That part was true. “I was on the beach running when I darted into Saint and Supreme, and they kind of… saved me.”
It wasn’t really a lie, now that I considered it. I’d just dropped a few harrowing details from my story.
“You found out he was up to no good? What do you mean? You knew about the trafficking?” Robyn probed.
“I was on the plane with several women who were all being escorted by other men. Robyn, I never felt completely comfortable with Javier. There was something in my gut telling me he couldn’t be completely trusted. It took me a while to piece everything together, but by the time I’d come to my senses, I was already with him on the island,” I explained.
Robyn’s eyes squinted as if she were trying to combine my tale with what she’d heard on the news so that it made sense. After a while, she said, “Okay.”
Knowing my friend, I knew it wasn’t the end of that with her.
“–But why didn’t you reach out to anyone when you got back?”
Because I was getting married.
“I didn’t have anything, Robyn. I left all my personal belongings, save for my passport, housed in my little wristlet. Everything else was in the villa when I took off. I was terrified out of my mind. I didn’t know if Javier’s men would come looking for me.”
“Wait, what about the airport? How’d you get back so quickly?”
“Girl, please, we flew private,” I shrugged animatedly, to which she returned pursed lips and raised brows that said, ‘Well, excuse the hell out of me.’
“So you decided to stay here?” Her brows hiked her face into a confused grimace as she motioned to the space around us.
I didn’t like the way she said that.
“Robyn, Javier knows who all my friends are. I didn’t want to put anyone in danger,” I tried to explain my stretched lie, grabbing ahold of her hands and praying she’d understand. “I didn’t want to return home in case they used my license to track me back there.”
After a while, she sighed and nodded her head, accepting my explanation as if it were an apology. She’d been worried about me, and I was acting entirely out of character, so she had every right to ask her questions. I didn’t take offense.
Just when I thought the conversation was over, her eyes grew two sizes as they fastened onto something in the direction of the beach. I followed her gaze to witness Saint dripping wet again with no towel in tow. He stalked hurriedly toward where we sat as if trying to get inside ahead of the storm.
“Ladies.”
Nodding in our direction, he acknowledged our presence but didn’t stop walking until he made it inside. Once he was out of earshot and Robyn had consumed her fill of his backside, she started on me again.
“Goddamn bitch! I see the real reason why you haven’t been in contact with anyone. Does his brother look like that?”
Saint
I didn’t mind the rain.
The way it showered and rinsed the earth clean. The way it offered a fresh and renewed start. The way the skunk of earth could be smelled after its conclusion. The way it left a misty fog behind that emanated from the ground like magic. No. The rain didn’t unsettle me.
Storms did.
Boisterous and unforgiving, with bright lightening ripping across the sky, storms wreaked havoc on my senses. The crash of thunder rattled my wits into overdrive, causing me to stim, curling my toes, flapping my arms, and banging my head. Shit that I hadn’t done in quite some time.
And then there was the wind. It had the nerve to push through, howling like some untamed rabid beast, wholly felt, sometimes heard, but never seen. All elements of the inevitable storm rapping against my home. Storms were too unpredictable. Too loud. Too dangerous.
As a grown man, I knew I was safe from the formidable weather. It wasn’t fear that set my senses ablaze. It was the noise. Loud noises triggered my nervous system into overdrive. Thanks to Dr. Gibson, I understood why, but the knowledge hadn’t assisted me in soothing my nerves.