Dirty Sexy Saint (Dirty Sexy #1)(53)

Samantha’s head abruptly snapped up, her expression horrified. “Why would she do that to you and your brothers?” she asked, appalled.

“I honestly don’t know.” And he never would. “But I’m guessing it made the most sense to her drug-addled brain. He lived with us anyway, and her kids had never been a priority or a concern. Her only worry had always been how she was going to get her next fix.”

“What happened to her?” Samantha asked.

“She’d served three months of her sentence when she had a fatal stroke and died. Probably because of the drugs. Anyway, that’s when Wyatt decided that we were now his property, to do with as he pleased.”

Samantha stared at him, her eyes wide and horror-filled. Someone like her, who’d been born into wealth and privilege, had never been exposed to such harsh realities, or the cruel reality of living in poverty.

“The thought of Wyatt being our legal guardian, until each one of us reached the age of eighteen, scared the shit out of me. I knew he’d do everything he could to intimidate and corrupt Mason and Levi. I was afraid he’d turn them on to drugs, pimp them out, or worse. So one day, I stole a butcher knife from a store. Just in case.”

Samantha was watching him so silently and intently he had to glance away, unsure of whether he could admit to the rest. It had been the worst night of his life, and he hated that he’d had to resort to such violence. Yet he’d do it all over again to protect his brothers.

She touched his jaw and turned his face back to hers. “Tell me,” she said softly, her gaze imploring him to trust her with his past, his pain.

So he did. “One day, I came home and Wyatt had Levi cornered. He’d already backhanded him a few times. I told Levi to run and he did. He locked himself in the bathroom, and as soon as he was out of the way, Wyatt came after me like I knew he would. I pulled out the knife. There was so much fury running through me and I was so amped up that I swore I was going to kill the f*cker. Back then, Wyatt was damned strong, and he came close to overpowering me.” Samantha sucked in a breath, remaining silent, waiting for the rest.

Clay swallowed hard. “Somehow, I managed to push back, and I used the blade to slice a deep cut along the side of his face.”

She blinked at him in disbelief. “You gave him that scar?”

“Yes.” He didn’t feel any pride in the memory. “I stabbed him in the arm, too, and it was enough for Wyatt to realize that he couldn’t screw with us anymore, and he finally left.”

Yet Wyatt was back in their lives, which once more told Clay he must be desperate. But Clay wasn’t. As a teenager, he wouldn’t have hesitated to slaughter the * if it meant keeping his brothers safe. But now he had way too much to lose to go to prison for the rest of his life for murdering the scumbag.


“Wyatt knew I was serious, and he left, and we haven’t seen him until now, when he obviously needs cash to get himself out of some kind of trouble.”

Samantha’s mind spun as she tried to process everything Clay had told her, unable to imagine all that he’d been through as a kid. Her heart felt torn in shreds, knowing that he’d endured so much abuse yet never hesitated to step up and be strong for Mason and Levi.

“Your brothers were still so young when that happened,” she said, curious to know how Clay had kept them together without any adult supervision or financial means. “So what did you do once Wyatt was gone?”

“Mason was twelve and Levi was ten. No way was I going to lose them to foster care,” he said gruffly. “So I did everything possible to make sure that didn’t happen. For two years, until I turned eighteen, I worked any kind of job I could to pay the rent and utilities and remain under the radar. Mowing lawns. Bagging groceries. Collecting cans and bottles and recycling them for cash. I’d even dig through dumpsters for food or other things we needed. And then Jerry hired me here at the bar and gave me a weekly paycheck. Levi was a good kid who did exactly as I said and made sure he stayed out of trouble. But Jesus Christ, Mason was a goddamn hellion,” he said with a self-derisive laugh.

She smiled at Clay. “So, he started at a young age, huh?”

“Yeah.” Clay sighed heavily. “With everything that happened, Mason had a lot of anger inside of him. And after our mother died and Wyatt left, he got worse. He tested my authority constantly and made it difficult to keep all of us off the radar, until I turned eighteen and could apply for guardianship for them both. And with Mason fourteen, those teenage years were a nightmare. He was such a f*cking handful,” he said, humor in his voice now that his brother was a grown man and no longer his responsibility. “He was constantly sneaking out in the middle of the night, hanging with the wrong crowd, getting involved in drugs. When he was seventeen, he was arrested for spraying graffiti on public and private property, and because I knew he was headed down a really bad path, I didn’t try to stop it when he was sent to juvie for six months.”

Samantha could easily imagine what a delinquent Mason had been as a teen. “I think he turned out okay.” Thanks to his brother’s diligence and guidance.

“Meh,” Clay said in a teasing tone, then grew serious once again. “I really think that Mason constantly tested and defied me because he believed that I was going to leave him like our mother had. She might not have been part of our life in any way that mattered, but she was our mother. We didn’t have a father, and not knowing who his dad was, knowing that it was some random john our mother had screwed for a hit messed with Mason’s head, too. Still does, I think.”