Kings of Anarchy (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #3) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,185

needed. But you didn't. You gave us detention for being late to class. You gave her detention. But you didn’t make a single comment about the letters or the girl you’d no doubt been consoling. And now that's got me wondering, why?"

"Maybe I knew she was strong enough to fight her own battles," I snarled, reaching out to grab the necklace in a tight fist so that the chain cut into his neck as I tightened my hold on it. "Now give this back."

"No," Saint replied, not moving a damn inch as I went nose to nose with him. "If you want it, you'll have to rip it clean off of me and then you can explain to Tatum why you broke it. I'm assuming it has some kind of real significance for her. Probably a gift from her sister or father? Or some token she wears in memory of losing her? Whatever way, I'm certain she wanted it to be protected from harm when she entrusted you with it, so I'm sure she would be less than pleased to discover you'd broken it."

"Maybe I should test the strength of the chain," I warned, turning it in my fist so that it tightened around his neck. "If I use it to strangle you then I can just unclasp it from your corpse once you're dead and hand it back to her."

The motherfucker actually grinned at my threat, his eyes dark on mine with a dare clearly dancing in them alongside something which looked horribly like triumph.

"Tell me, Monroe, did your family leave you wanting when it came to love?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, unable to hide the flinch as this spawn of hell spoke about my family and hating the way his eyes flashed with victory at my reaction.

"It's just a fairly common cause for men like us to come into existence through neglect or violence, so it seems like a simple enough question."

I released my hold on Tatum's necklace and shoved away from him as I turned and stalked out into the front room. "My family weren't monsters like yours."

"I'm sure they weren't," he agreed as he followed me. "There are no monsters like my father."

I cut him a look at those words because for a moment there it had sounded suspiciously like hatred lacing his tone when he mentioned the man who took my family from me.

"But they did die and leave you all alone?" he pushed and panic flared through me as I turned an icy glare on him again.

"Who told you that?" I demanded, my mind flitting to Tatum for a moment before I could help it. But I instantly dismissed that idea. She might have been going a little soft on Saint ever since he'd almost given his life for her, but I knew she wouldn't betray my trust like that.

"You just said they weren't monsters. Talking about them in the past tense is something of a giveaway,” he said with a shrug as he moved to pick up my discarded shirt and place it in the laundry hamper like the sight of it on the floor was causing him physical pain.

I ground my jaw as he cocked his head, eyeing me like I was a fucking puzzle he was trying to piece together and I didn't like that one fucking bit. He was better at this mind game bullshit than me and I didn't want him trying to pry my head open to hunt down my secrets.

"What did your father do to you that was so terrible then?" I asked, trying to deflect the attention back away from me. "Did he knock you about a bit? Call you names? Make you feel undeserving of his love?" I could easily imagine that son of a bitch doing all of that and more to his own kid and for a moment I almost felt bad about goading Saint over it. And then I remembered that he'd been raised in his father's image to be just the same as him and I shouldn't be giving a single fuck about anything he'd been through.

"No," Saint replied easily, picking a piece of lint from his sleeve and dropping it to the ground. "Nothing like that."

"Then what?" I demanded, my voice raising in pitch and possibly giving away the fact that I was more interested in his answer than I had any real right to be.

I had assumed that he wouldn't answer me, so when he gave me an appraising