Page 88 of Tainted Saints
“Italian skillet chicken,” Aspen declares proudly as she lifts the lid and the smell increases tenfold.
“Smells almost as delicious as you, Little Lady,” Forest comments, taking a bowl from her that she’s just spooned some chicken and vegetables into.
“Lan did most of it.” She blushes, and I smirk at the colour. So damn easy.
“You did great, Duchess,” Lan says, kissing her cheek and helping her to spoon the rest out while I cut hunks of bread and pass them around.
After several moments of silence as we tuck in, I know that we need to address the elephant in the room sooner rather than later.
“The Ambassador needs to be dealt with,” I state, wincing when Aspen’s spoon clatters against her bowl.
“Y–you mean killed, don’t you?” she asks quietly, and I nod, not wanting to sugar coat it.
“Even if we take all the evidence we have against him to the police, he has diplomatic immunity, never mind the fact he’s probably paying them off in some way,” Lan tells her, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. “This way, we don’t have to run or hide for the rest of our lives either.”
“Plus, he hurt you, so he has to die,” Forest adds, and I grunt my approval. Forest’s green eyes are hard, his usual smile missing from his face as he looks at our girl. “No one hurts you and doesn’t pay for it.”
Her eyes soften, and I love that she doesn’t look at us with disgust or judgement, just love. “Will he suffer? Will he be terrified like he made me all those times he locked me away?”
Lan and Forest grin, a look that is pure devil, and I know that I have a matching one on my face.
“He will feel every second of terror and pain that he inflicted on you, Duchess,” Lan vows, and I know that what he has planned is going to be good.
“Then I want in. I want to be there to see him suffer,” she replies, and I have to adjust in my seat, my dick suddenly twitching in my sweats.
“It won’t be pretty, angel,” Lan warns, cupping her beautiful face in his large palm. “It may haunt you.”
“Not more than what he did,” she tells him, rubbing her face into his touch. “And I need to see with my own eyes that he’s gone.”
“Okay,” I say, her eyes sliding to mine as her face lights up with a grateful smile. “You’ll be there.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze goes back to Lan, and she leans in to press a kiss on his lips, then she twists, his hand falling away as she kisses Forest too.
“Let’s make him rue the day he ever tried to mess with the Saints,” she declares, holding up her water glass in a toast.Coño, she really is perfect for us.
* * *
“Into It” by Chase Atlantic
ASPEN
A few days go by and it’s blissful. I relax the more I don’t hear anything from the Ambassador and just live in bliss with my Saints. We don’t go to school, though on Wednesday afternoon there’s a light knock on the door, and Lan gives me a wink before going to open it.
“Aspen Buckingham, you bitch!” Aoife scolds as she storms in, handing Lan several bags and then rushing over to haul me into a hug. “Ghosting me for two fecking weeks, not telling me about a wedding until we get the fecking invitation, and then running into the sunset with gangsters! Let’s begin there, shall we?”
She pulls back and I grimace, not really knowing what to say.
“I’ve been a terrible friend,” I confess, and she scoffs.
“Yep, but luckily for you, I’m the forgiving type and as long as I get all the sordid details and some ice cream I’ll forgive you,” she assures me, pulling me down onto the couch, which I just stood up from, Blaine scooching over to make room. “Lan, be a doll and go get us some ice cream.”
My eyes go wide, trying to contain my laugh as Forest doesn’t even bother and howls from the chair. “Best do what she says, Daddy. I hear the Irish can get real mean when they’re mad.”
My gaze darts to Lan and I mouth sorry at him, but he just rolls his eyes, and somewhat to my surprise, drops the bags she brought on the table, grabs his keys and jacket, and heads out the door.
“Now, you two make yourselves scarce, it’s girl time,” she instructs, waving her hand.
“Yes, ma’am,” Forest salutes her, trying to ease himself up. I wince as he grimaces, wanting to go to him, but Aoife has my hands in a vice-like grip.