Home > Books > Start a War (Saint View Psychos #1)(67)

Start a War (Saint View Psychos #1)(67)

Author:Elle Thorpe

“Fine. Jesus Christ, that guy was an asshole!”

Vincent nodded, shoving his key in the ignition.

I put my hand on his arm. “Wait. We should stay. The police will want a statement.”

Vincent shook his head, pulling out of the parking lot and getting us onto the road. “I can’t.”

“Why not? You got an outstanding warrant out for your arrest?”

Vincent glanced at me, then back at the road. “That seemed more like a third-date conversation. I would have told you before the third-date sex. I swear.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst into laughter.

Vincent looked at me like I was crazy. “Are you having a mental breakdown? I don’t think laughter is the correct response right now. Shouldn’t you be screaming hysterically? Or trying to escape the man who just admitted to being wanted by the police?”

But I already trusted Vincent. Warrant or not, nothing was going to change my opinion of him, or the safety I felt when he was around. I shook my head. “My brother and his best friend have both been arrested at least twice. My mother did a one-year stint for prostitution when I was eleven. My stepfather is currently still in jail. My old neighbors when I lived at the trailer park had a meth lab… I’m not Providence born and bred. Your warrants don’t scare me. But just out of interest, what’s it for?”

Vincent put his foot down on the accelerator, leaving the ice-cream parlor behind us. “I dismissed myself from jail. Without permission.”

I gaped at him. “You escaped? How is that even possible?”

“Is it supposed to be hard?”

I sniggered, but then I sobered. “Come work for me.”

Vincent frowned. “What?”

“Come work for me at my bar. Do security. I want to feel safe there. And I feel safe when you’re around. I know you like kids—”

“I like you more.”

I warmed all over. “So is that a yes?”

He nodded solemnly. “It’s a yes.”

22

BLISS

The Saturday night crowd hadn’t arrived yet when I pulled into Psychos’ parking lot, but it was still early. Rebel finished at six, and I was picking her up with a back seat of shopping bags, ready to go back to her place and get ready for the Slayers party that night.

I’d had Vincent on my mind all day, and something inside me had wanted to ditch the party. But then I’d convinced myself that one nice night didn’t equal a relationship. I wasn’t doing anything wrong by accepting War’s invitation. My intense and immediate attraction to War aside, Rebel had seen Axel hanging out with the Slayers. Somebody there had to know more than we did. They wouldn’t tell the police, but maybe they’d tell me.

Unless it was the Slayers who’d killed him.

If that was the case, going to their compound tonight was a very stupid idea.

I let myself in, frowning at Solomon, the door guard, asleep on his chair. “Good to see I’m paying you to take a nap.”

He didn’t even stir. I shook my head. I’d assumed War’s friend, Hawk, had gotten past Solomon at the sex party the other night after a hard-fought battle… Probably not if this was anything to judge by. He’d probably just walked on in, and Solomon had only chased him after the slam of the door woke him up.

I waved to Nash behind the bar, but Rebel was in the middle of explaining something to one of the other girls, and I didn’t want to interrupt her training session. So I wandered behind the bar and into Nash’s office, plonking down in his comfy chair. Nash glanced over and frowned at me, so just to needle him a little more, I stuck my feet up on the desk with a challenging grin aimed in his direction.

I could practically hear his teeth grinding.

It was almost hilarious. I needed to stake out the giant labyrinth of a building for a space that could be my own office, but I liked that Nash’s was right in the center of everything.

My phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jeans, and I pulled it out quickly, hoping it was Vincent.

Caleb’s name flashed on the screen.

I pushed it to voicemail.

The phone immediately lit up with another incoming call, which also got sent straight to voicemail.

The third call made it clear Caleb wasn’t going away. I slammed my finger on the answer button. “What do you want?”

I’d never spoken to Caleb like that before. I’d never spoken to anyone with pure aggression and fierce anger in my voice.

“Where are you?”

“None of your business.”

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