of gasoline and leather surrounded me. He didn't pull back, forcing me into his chest and holding me there until I couldn't fight any more and just came apart, sobbing into his shirt, staining it with mascara and tears.
"I'm sorry," he said in his deep tone that rumbled right through to the centre of my being. "I'm sorry, baby."
I clung to him, letting my anger slide away. It wasn't his fault; he hadn't done this. But it still stung sharply.
"The documents he left behind should prove his innocence," Saint offered and his words helped ease the tension from my body. "I am capable of exposing it all, I just need more time."
"Hurry up," Monroe bit at him.
"A job is not worth doing if it is not done properly," Saint said simply.
Blake suddenly pressed against me from behind and I practically sagged between my two men, their strong bodies holding me up. I didn't want to go to class anymore, I just wanted to stay here surrounded by their warm flesh and drowning in their kisses. But I couldn't hide away from the world.
The worst thing was that everyone in the school would hear this news. My grief would be exposed. And where I'd longed for that before so I didn't have to hide it, now I realised that hiding it had helped me stay together. With everyone looking for my weakness now, how was I going to stop myself falling apart?
“We’ll all take the day off from classes so Tatum can have some time to process this news,” Saint announced suddenly and I broke free of Blake and Kyan, looking to him in surprise. Of all the people to suggest such a thing, I never would have thought it would come from him.
“Thank you,” I breathed, then looked to Monroe. “What about you? Can you stay?”
He nodded firmly, no question about it in his eyes. “I have the morning free for paperwork anyway. And even if I didn’t, I’m not leaving you, princess.” He moved forward and hugged me, my heart beating steadier at having them all so close.
“What will your family ask in payment for giving her father a grave?” Saint asked Kyan in a tone that made my skin prickle.
“I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter,” Kyan said firmly. “Whatever the price is, I’ll pay it.”
I reached for him and he stepped forward, winding his fingers between mine. I’d met his family, I knew the sacrifice he’d made for me. And I could never repay him for it.
“I can pay the price,” I breathed. “Whatever they want, it shouldn’t be on you.”
“Naw, baby,” he said, knocking his knuckles against my cheek. “It’s on me. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The other guys all nodded to Kyan in acknowledgement of what he was offering me and my heart squeezed. I wasn’t sure how I’d ended up at the centre of a circle of monsters who’d do anything to protect me, but somehow, it felt like I was right where I was supposed to be.
I stood in the old prayer room at the entrance to the catacombs with my right eye twitching as I took count for the fifth time. There was no denying it. We were short twenty three rolls of toilet paper. Someone had either found their way down here and was stealing from us, or there was a culprit living right beneath my roof. And as I knew for a fact that Blake and Kyan didn't give a single shit about the masses being unable to wipe their asses, I had a pretty clear idea of who would be to blame.
My fingers twitched at the edge of the fucking cast I was still cursed to keep on and I shifted against the confines of the sling. I was so sick of wearing the damn thing. So fucking sick of it. With a growl, I reached up with my good hand and ripped the knot loose before tearing it off.
My bullet wound no longer needed dressing anyway and I was done with this too. Now all that was left was the infernal cast. Three weeks, six days and fourteen hours remaining until I could banish that as well. And then I could get back to my routine in its fullness.
I stood still in the utter silence of the catacombs and forced myself to count down five full minutes as I got my rage under control.
It was freezing down here, the ice cold air making the bare skin