Soulless Saint

Petal and Thorn Books is an imprint of Thorn House Publishing Inc Copyright © 2023 Elena Lawson All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Characters, incidents and dialogs are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events is strictly coincidental. Cover design & formatting: Pretty In Ink Creations Edited by: Jennifer Jones @ Bookends Editing CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Also by Elena Lawson Follow the Author Where the fuck are you, Kaleb? The early morning sun glared angrily through the open top of the Bronco, heating my already boiling blood as I barreled down the Sunday streets of Santa Clarita. I craned my neck to check oncoming traffic before blowing another red light and hanging a sharp right onto Grove St. I swear to fuck, if your ass is at Minty’s… My tires spat gravel onto the road as I pulled into our old dealer’s driveway, lifting myself out of the Bronco by her roll bars. The squat white house near the edge of Canyon Country stared out into the day with dark eyes. Quiet. Not for long. I took the steps three at a time, landing my fist on the front door once, twice, three times. Rattling the window panes. “Christ!” Minty shouted somewhere inside and the sound of pills scattering over the floor met my ears. I knocked again, twice, louder. The dirty once-white blinds covering the window to the right of the door crinkled, beveling back and forth. “Shit,” Minty cursed, and I listened as no less than three locking mechanisms unlatched before the door swept open. I shoved past Minty’s gaunt frame, into his kitchen, where something that smelled like acid simmered in a shallow blackened fry pan on the stove. Pills popped and crunched under my boots. “Hardin, man, what the fuck—” I spun, leveling the full weight of my stare on him, a tremor of heat coiling up my spine, heating my cheekbones where they flared out. Don’t fuck with me, Minty. He reared back a step, hands raised. “No harm done.” “Kaleb,” I growled, eyes tracking the airspace behind him, scanning the two caved-in sofas in the living room and the darkened doorway of the bedroom beyond it. “Kaleb?” Minty repeated as I stormed past him through the living room and into the bedroom, flicking the light on. “Minty, it’s too early…” a scratchy feminine voice mewled from beneath the covers, her pale foot retracting beneath their warmth with a shuddering sigh. I slammed my palm against the wall, the release from the sting licking down the length of my body like salve applied to a wound. I tipped my head to the left, cracking my neck, shaking out my tight muscles as I made my way to the bathroom, Minty blathering something unintelligible in my wake. Empty. I threw back the shower curtain to be sure, but he wasn’t here. “Hardin,” Minty said, and I guessed it wasn’t for the first time by the exasperation in his tone. I turned to him. “Kaleb’s not here, man. I haven’t seen him in months.” I felt my face twisting. If he was fucking lying to me… “I swear,” he added, normally hooded eyes wide and red with his promise. “If he shows his ass here, you’re my first call.” My gaze narrowed on a black slip of fabric by Minty’s feet. He saw it the same time I did, and paled. “Hardin…” Minty said warily, already backing away. I bent to retrieve the sweater, turning it over in my palm. The fabric fell to one side, revealing the shining silver Saint emblem on the right breast. Kaleb had been wearing it when he left around midnight. I crumpled it in my fist, deciding to give Minty exactly three seconds to explain before— Nope. I launched at him, the sweater abandoned in favor of the front of his t-shirt as I coiled my other arm back and swung, vision tinted red. Minty’s head knocked back, mouth slack, eyes wide and blinking as blood spurted from his shattered nose. “When?” He spluttered for a response, trying to pry my hand from his shirt as he came to. “Minty?” the girl from the bedroom said groggily then screamed before I heard the door shut behind her. Smart bitch. “When?” I repeated, hitting him again. He gurgled, blood coating his tongue, mixing with the saliva to dribble down his stubbly chin. “Around three, man!” he managed after a good hard shake before lifting a trembling hand to his busted nose. I released him and he doubled over, falling into the side of the sofa. I stepped toward him, and he fell back on his ass. He knew what I wanted. He’d better start talking. “He didn’t buy nothin’, okay?” My chest vibrated with a growl. “He didn’t. It’s why I said he wasn’t here. He came. Drunk as fuck. Hung out a while, talked some shit about getting high like old times. I-I told him you’d have my head if I sold to him. Bastard pulled his gun on me, but then he just laughed and said my shit wasn’t worth it. Took off on his bike.” I swiped the sweater from the floor, deciding whether I believed this fucker after he just lied to me once. “I will call you if he shows up again. You have