Page 33 of Saint's Preciosa
"No!" Cherry's voice rises in panic before she checks herself. "The note implies they're watching. What if they are? If they see you talking to any of the brothers, they'll detonate immediately. Please, Luna. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm begging you. For once in my life, I'm trying to do the right thing."
"But—"
"Look," she lowers her voice even further, "I know what the Golden Touch looks like now. Nothing left but rubble. Do you want that to happen here? With everyone inside?"
The image of the clubhouse in flames flashes through my mind—Saint, Abuela, Sophie, Angel, all the brothers who've welcomed me despite having no reason to.
"How do we know this isn't some trick?" I ask, suspicion returning.
“We don’t.” Cherry grabs the note from my hands and shoves it back into her bra. “But do you really want to take that chance? I've seen how you look at Saint, how you've bonded with Angel and Sophie. If there's even a chance this is real, can you live with the consequences of ignoring it?"
She's right, and that's what terrifies me. If there's any possibility that this threat is genuine, how can I risk the lives of everyone in the clubhouse?
"Okay," I say finally, the decision settling like lead in my stomach. "I'll go. But I need to tell Saint something so he doesn't worry."
"No," Cherry shakes her head vehemently. "They'll be watching. Just slip out now, while everyone's distracted with breakfast.”
Every instinct tells me this is wrong, that I should run straight to Saint with this information. But the image of the Golden Touch Day Spa exploding into a ball of flames in the night sky flashes through my mind.
"I need to grab my shoes and a coat from upstairs and then I’ll sneak out. If anyone comes looking for me?—”
“I’ll cover for you,” Cherry says quickly. “I’ll say you went to lie down or something."
Twenty minutes later, I slip through a side exit of the clubhouse, my heart pounding so hard it’s nearly deafening. The compound is quieter than usual, with most members inside. I keep to the shadows, moving as quickly and quietly as possible until I reach the perimeter fence.
Finding a gap where the chain-link has been cut and hastily wired back together, I squeeze through, wincing as the sharp edges catch on my clothes. Once outside, I break into a run, heading toward the main road where I can catch a bus to the waterfront.
My mind races with scenarios, each worse than the last. What if it's a trap? What if the explosives are real but me going to the pier doesn't stop them? What if I've made a terrible mistake by not telling Saint?
But what if it's all true?
By the time I reach Pier 17, it's nearly 11 AM. The waterfront is surprisingly deserted for this time of day—no dock workers, no fishermen, no tourists. Warning bells sound in my head, but I've come too far to turn back now.
The wooden planks creak beneath my feet as I walk to the end of the pier. The water below is dark, choppy with small waves that slap against the pilings. Gulls cry overhead, their sounds eerily loud in the unnatural stillness.
The pier is deserted, shipping containers stacked in abandoned piles, the scent of salt and rotting fish heavy in the air. I realize I've made a terrible mistake.
I should leave. Go back to the clubhouse, confess everything.
I turn slowly, scanning my surroundings again. The warehouse buildings lining the waterfront stand silent and imposing, their windows like blank eyes staring out at me.
A flicker of movement catches my eye—a shadow shifting between two shipping containers stacked nearby. I squint, trying to make out a figure.
“I’m here. I came alone," I call out. "Just like you wanted."
As I take a step forward, I feel rather than hear someone approaching from behind. Before I can turn, pain explodes through my skull, bright lights flashing behind my eyes. I crumple forward, the world tilting oddly as darkness rushes in from the edges of my vision.
Chapter13
Saint
“Where is she?”
I've been looking for Luna for the past twenty minutes, checking our room, the medical bay, the garage—everywhere she might reasonably be. My initial annoyance is quickly morphing into concern.
"She wasn't with you ladies?" I ask Sophie and Angel, trying to keep my voice casual.
Angel frowns. "She was helping us look for her grandmother, but then we found her in the kitchen with you guys."
