Reign (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #3)(3)

“Princess.” Saint sits down on the other side of me, gently sliding his arm around my back. “She’s gone, babe. I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Tears spill out of my eyes and down my cheeks before I can stop them. “No!” I cry as intense pain whips through me, sucking all the air from my lungs, making breathing difficult. “No! Not Sariah!” I sob.

Saint gently pulls my head onto his shoulder as Caz takes my hand, holding it firmly in his warm grasp.

“She can’t be dead, Saint. Sar never hurt anyone. This is all wrong,” I say in between sobs. Parker and her cronies attacked Sariah at school, because they couldn’t get to me, beating her so badly she ended up in a coma.

Liquid pain churns in my gut and swirls up my throat, blocking my airway as I give in to the tsunami crashing and tumbling inside me. I break down completely, and the noises ripping from my throat don’t even sound human. My tortured cries bounce off the walls as I self-destruct. Theo moves around the bed, kneeling in front of me, taking my free hand and showering it with soft kisses.

“Her funeral is in a couple hours,” Theo explains when my cries have died down. “We were planning on waking you up. We knew you’d want to be there.”

So that’s what the whispered arguing was about.

“How did Taylor know?” I sniffle, needing to focus my brain on anything but the fact I’ll never see my best friend’s bubbly smile and beautiful face again.

“We spoke to the vice principal,” Saint says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “We thought Pierson might’ve been involved, but she’s clean.”

“A neighbor of Taylor’s is an orderly here,” Theo supplies, rubbing my hand in a soothing gesture. “He was keeping her updated, and she got a heads-up on the news. She called Pierson, pretending to be a nurse, and set the whole thing in motion.”

“That’s how we knew it was a setup,” Saint adds. “Sean called Theo when he couldn’t reach you. He hadn’t asked anyone to call the school to pass you a message.”

“That’s why you hung back as we were leaving school that day.”

“We should’ve made you hold up too.” Pain blares in Theo’s eyes.

“Then we’d probably all be dead.” I pull my hand from Caz, swiping at the moisture under my eyes. “That was obviously her intent.” If it’d just been about taking me down, she had any number of opportunities to attack me as I was entering or leaving the hospital to visit Sar. The fact she waited tells me she wanted to take the guys out too.

“She’s going to regret coming after us,” Saint growls.

“I have software recognition set up,” Theo says. “And we put the word out on the street.”

“She can’t hide forever,” Saint adds. “And when she surfaces, we’ll grab her.”

“She’s mine,” I seethe, fire burning in my belly. “Mine and Galen’s.”

“No one argues with that,” Saint agrees, piercing me with that intense lens of his.

I nod, drawing a deep breath and urging my body to relax. Holding on to Saint, I push awkwardly to my feet. “I need to see Galen. Take me to him now.”





CHAPTER 2


SAINT

LO CLINGS TO me as Caz opens the door to Galen’s private room. Theo has gone back to the house to grab clean clothes for all of us. We’ll freshen up here as there isn’t enough time to go home before the funeral service begins.

“Hey.” Lo’s voice is soft as Galen’s eyes flicker open and his head turns toward her. Alisha—Galen’s mom—is conked out on a chair, softly snoring.

“Angel.” Galen’s voice is gruff and sleep heavy. He’s been sleeping most of the past three days as well; although, he’s been awake for longer periods in between, refusing extra pain meds because he’s desperate to get back on his feet.

I have never been as scared as I was back at the school. We thought we’d lost them.

The scene was a fucking mess. Debris strewn everywhere. Billows of acrid smoke stinging our eyes. Our ears ringing from the noise of the detonation. The bomb drew everyone from school outside, and it was pandemonium. When we finally got to Lo and Galen, they were unconscious on the ground, covered in shit from the explosion.

Because they were closer to the car than us, they suffered the brunt of the damage. Galen was lying on top of Lo, his body shielding hers from the debris, but I worried he’d broken her pelvis or forced all the air from her lungs. Waiting for the EMTs to show up was excruciatingly painful, because we were afraid to move either of them, and we honestly didn’t know if they were going to make it.

“You’re my hero,” Lo tells my cousin, bending over him to plant a light kiss on his lips. “You saved me. Saved us.”

“I’ve been so worried about you,” Galen admits, inching to the side of the bed and opening the covers. He pats the space beside him. “Come here.”

Caz helps Lo up beside Galen, and my chest tightens as her gown opens at the rear, exposing the multicolored bruising covering her back, distracting from the gorgeous ink on her skin. Caz and I exchange a look before flopping into the empty seats by Galen’s bed.

I know the guys feel the same way I do. I want to gut Taylor Tamlin from head to toe, slice layers off her skin, gouge her eyes from their sockets, and rip her insides to shreds, until she’s nothing more than a nonexistent bloody mess on the floor.