Saint or sinner, p.1
Saint or Sinner, page 1
Saint or Sinner
The Savage Kings Series, Book 2
Jade Royal
Copyright © 2022 by Jade Royal
www.authorjaderoyal.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Playlist Saint or Sinner
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Bonus Chapter 1
Turner’s War
The Unforeseen Arrangement
Savage Kings Empire
Acknowledgments
About the Author
New Releases
Also by Jade Royal
I always use music to fuel my stories. Because the list keeps growing, I’m going to give you the link to my Spotify playlist to listen to. Usually, I list the titles of the songs in a playlist but thought that giving you the direct link would be better. Don’t worry about whether you have Spotify or not. They’ll still let you listen to the tunes at no cost as long as you follow the link.
You can always send me a email at jaderoyalnews@gmail.com to let me know what you think. Enjoy the playlist as you read, I know I have a few times.
Cheers,
Jade Royal
He's a Savage...
* * *
Saint
Kimora took an oath to save lives, but she didn’t want the hassle of healing me. She thinks I’m a hoodlum who gets into trouble, shoots things up, and creates problems. Not me. I’m a king, a peacemaker. The only issues I have are ones brought to my doorstep, like kidnapping my nephew. If she does what I need, kisses it better, and quits complaining about the blood in her house, I can be on my way to finding the culprits.
She’s either immune to my charms or playing hard to get. Because I have never come across anything I couldn’t have, and Kimora isn’t the exception.
* * *
Kimora
Saint mixed himself up in a situation. The normalcy he has, I avoid, a life filled with crime, risks, and drugs. I have problems to handle, things he wouldn’t understand. Broken, it’ll take more than a handsome face to fix me. My focus is on getting back to work, not on the sinner who could flip my entire world upside down.
Saint
“Fuck!” Hype shouted.
I raised my hand to see blood coming from my shoulder. From the location of the shot, the fucker knew I was wearing a vest. The angle was too telling. I swallowed, trying to keep from showing my shock. Someone had grazed me in the past, but most of the injuries I'd received over the years were from fighting. This was my blood, nobody else's.
“We have to get out of here!” he yelled at me.
“We have to find Jr.,” I grumbled.
My nephew was more important than a bullet in my shoulder. He’d been kidnapped, and finding him was all that mattered.
“We will, but we can’t if you die. Saint, I love you, man, but this ain’t the way.” He raised his gun and fired three times behind me. I heard a grunt before a body fell to the ground. “We need backup. I know we didn’t expect for all these bitches to come out of nowhere, but they did. We can get back to this as soon as we get you fixed up. And when we do, they’re gonna wish we didn’t.”
I nodded, and that was because my vision was doing weird things. “Tamera’s,” I blurted before I couldn't say anything at all.
We moved to the car after Hype made sure the coast was clear. I knew I slowed him down, but it couldn’t be helped. Inside, I blacked out a little, and when I came to, Hype was speeding.
“Where are you going?” This didn’t look like the way to Tamera’s.
“I’m taking yo’ ass to the hospital.”
“Tamera’s! They’ll ask questions. We can’t have that. You know this. She’ll take care of me.”
“Did you even call her to see if she’s there?”
“No, but she will be.” She always was.
He sighed, not liking the idea. I didn’t give a fuck. She was the only person I trusted with my life for medical shit. She’d been patching me up for years, not to mention any other care I needed.
When we pulled up, Hype jumped from the car and ran up to her front door, pounding on it. When Tamera opened up, she was pissed. She’d never met Hype or knew anything about him, but he knew exactly who she was. I’d talked about her enough. Her light skin, naturally curly hair, and big sad eyes couldn't be missed from a mile away. Even though they were about the same height, both looked ready to fight the war they'd obviously impeded on.
I stood up from the seat, hoping to intervene, but I slid to the ground as my vision swam. Tamera ran over to me, momentarily disregarding Hype.
“Saint, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” She looked at my shoulder and shook her head. Concern spread across her face, and I watched as she tried to hide the terror. “I-I can’t. I can’t get this out.”
“Yes, you can.” She had to.
“No, baby, I can’t. It’s deep, and there’s so much blood. The risks are too high. I don’t have everything that I need. You’re going to have to go to the hospital. You need a surgeon.”
“I… can’t.” I blinked, trying to stay focused. “Don’t you know somebody that you can call?”
“I...I.” Tamera blinked, and I could tell that she was searching my face for a bluff that I couldn’t afford to make. “I don’t know if she’ll do it.”
“She will; just get us there.” I pushed. She'd do it by force, for the money, or because she didn't want my death on her conscience.
She froze, looking unsure.
Fresh pain blossomed in my shoulder, numbing out my arm. I couldn't die from this shit. “Now, Tamera!”
Tamera sprang into action while Hype helped me get back inside the car. Tamera ran inside her house and returned with her phone in hand, a medical bag, and her keys.
“I’ll slow the bleeding, but we’ve got to get you to her.” She jumped in the back, and Hype started the car. She gave him directions as she kept calling the person she was trying to get a hold of.
I knew I was weak because everything passed us in a blur, making me dizzy. I couldn’t tell what Tamera and Hype were saying to one another, and I had this overwhelming need to close my eyes.
“Focus, baby. Stay awake.” She paused, or at least that’s what it felt like. “I can’t lose you, Saint. Not like this. I love you.” She whispered the last part, and I questioned if I was hearing things, but the tears gathering in her eyes proved that I’d heard right.
I cared about her too, but it was different. She’d become somebody I relied on and trusted with my life. The sexual things we did in the past complicated the situation, and I’d given it space. Now, I saw her for the gem she was. And I didn’t deserve it. That was why it was best we’d ended things when we had.
Tamera had changed, being more affectionate, and I knew she’d developed more romantic feelings. It would have been fine if we hadn’t agreed not to take our relationship there. Out of respect for her, I cut that part of us loose and made sure she knew I couldn’t commit to her in that way. She’d understood, but it hurt. I never wanted that for her, and it made me feel like shit on any day. Today was worse. I couldn’t tell her I loved her without her thinking it was the forever kind of romance when I was trying to express a more generalized affection for her.
I could never be what she needed, and it fucked with me hard. She deserved everything that she desired. I just wasn’t him. Commitment was difficult for me. I needed to move around and explore. Hurting her wasn’t an option.
We pulled up to a small house, and Hype got my side of the car as close to the door as possible. Tamera hopped out of the vehicle and ran up to the door just as it opened. She pushed the woman inside who was yelling about the car on her lawn and babbling.
Meanwhile, Hype helped me get inside her house. He did most of the work because I didn’t think my legs were moving. Chills ran through me, and I wondered if I’d made the wrong call about not going to the hospital. I didn’t want to die.
Inside, he escorted me to an island where he helped me lay on top. The woman was yelling about the trail of blood while Tamera pleaded for help to her. Hype closed the front door, pulled out a gun, and aimed it at the woman.
“You’re a doctor, right?”
“I am. But this man needs a hospital. I can’t operate on him here. And why are you aiming that damn gun at me? This isn’t how you convince me to help you!”
I couldn’t see her face, but her tone indicated she was more pissed off than afraid.
“You can, and you will. If he dies, it’s on you. And there’s a bunch of people that will take turns killing you until they feel better. Fix. Him.”
I wanted to hit Hype so that he wouldn’t yell at the lady, but I was too busy trying to stay alert. It wasn’t the way to ask her for help. Plus, she was kind of cute. Not to mention fierce. And there was no reason to anger the woman who held my life in her hands. Even though she stood up to Hype when he was waving an empty gun around at her, she was still a woman.
The woman spoke to Tamera angrily. “Why would you get me caugh t up in this shit?”
“Please, Kay. As a favor to me. I–I need him to live,” Tamera pleaded.
“Please,” I said to her, but I wasn’t sure if she could hear me.
She sighed before disappearing down the hall. Moments later, she was back with a bag full of supplies. “Go to the bathroom and bring me that first aid kit. I need some more supplies, and they should be in there. Don’t think you’re going anywhere. You’re seeing him through this, and afterward, you’re leaving and taking your friend with you.”
“Deal.” Tamera ran off down the hall.
Kay walked over to me. “I’m going to need to get this vest off.”
“Cut it,” I mumbled.
“That’s a three-thousand-dollar investment!” Hype yelled.
I could get another one. “Cut… it.” And that was the last thing that I remembered before everything went black.
Kimora
Blood was everywhere. I’d sent Tamera out for more supplies, but the bottom line was that he would live. They avoided the subclavian artery, so the damage was maintained. He’d need blood from bleeding pretty badly, and the sooner we got some in him, the better. I had cleaned him up; clothes cut away so that I could check on him to make sure that there were no other hits.
Saint—as they kept referring to him—his friend left a t-shirt and joggers on the couch for him when he awakened. Until then, he was covered in boxers and a sheet. I looked at my counter, wondering if it was holding up ok. Saint was a big man. Not fat, but still big. He had to be about six foot six and maybe two hundred sixty pounds—a whole lot of man.
When she came back, they’d need to get him out of here. Though I was used to seeing all kinds of emergency situations, I wasn’t used to it invading my home. This was my sanctuary, and the incident had tarnished it. Violated.
Tamera was a friend of mine. We’d gone to medical school together, but our paths went different ways when I took this medicine thing further than nursing. While she’d become a Nurse Practitioner, I’d gone all the way. She’d done nothing to violate my trust for her until she’d brought him to my doorstep today.
Obviously, they were friends or something. Because if they weren’t, she’d have a distinct problem on her hands. Nobody should have that kind of control over you if they weren’t family or friends. Though I had no issues with strangers, you didn’t bring one into my home while threatening my life.
Tamera seemed hesitant to leave him, and the way she persisted made me think all was well between them. Maybe even too much was good between them. She was concerned for his life, not concerned that he’d hurt me at all. I had to believe in that. My sanity depended on it, or my friendship with Tamera was through.
Saint was a busy guy. His phone kept ringing off the hook. It’d been doing so for the past forty-five minutes. I sighed, wondering if it was someone important. I picked up the phone and saw that the number was from an unknown caller.
“Hello,” I answered, frustrated.
“Ike’s chicken. Your order is ready.”
“We didn’t order chicken.” I ended the call, exasperated. All those calls for chicken?
The phone rang again from an unknown number. It better not be.
“Hello.”
“Turner’s pizza. Your order is ready.”
“No. We didn’t order pizza.” I ended the call and wondered what exactly Saint was doing before they shot him—planning a dinner party? The pizza sounded good, though.
The phone continued to ring. More delivery places. All saying that there was food ready. I stopped answering the phone and considered turning it off. Where was Tamera?
I looked outside, hoping they were out there, only to see a box on the porch. Grabbing my bat from the corner behind the door, I opened the door, looking for signs of life. Dark, I saw no one. Someone filled the box with medical supplies. All the things I’d asked for and more. No. No. No! Where is Tamera?
“I’m going to kill her,” I mumbled as I picked up the box and went inside.
Locking the door, I dropped the box on the couch and picked up my cell. I called Tamera repeatedly, and she never answered. I sighed, knowing I’d just been stood up.
I walked into the kitchen, checking Saint’s vitals. I’d set up an IV as well as given him pain medication to make sure he’d rest. Watching him all night to make sure he would be ok, I’d woken him up after the surgery, but he’d gone back to sleep. After dressing his wound again, I went about cleaning up my kitchen, giving him blood, and disinfecting all those surfaces once covered in his bodily fluid.
Next, I took the quickest shower in history. I didn’t want to leave him too long. I added a pillow under his head and covered him with warm blankets as I rotated them in from the dryer. And this was my post for the next two days, since all he did was sleep.
Tamera never called. I did eventually get a text from her apologizing. She said the best place for him was with me, and she knew I wouldn’t have seen this through if she came back.
She was right. She’d also warned me the police and ambulance couldn’t be called, and my house was being watched to make sure I didn’t. I checked outside and saw no signs of the man who was here with her. It didn’t mean I didn’t believe someone wasn’t watching my house. I felt eyes when I grabbed the box. So, I was definitely under surveillance. I just didn’t know by who.
Making a peanut butter and jam sandwich was not exactly what I imagined I’d be doing when I felt Saint’s eyes on me. They were more focused than they had been over the past three days. There seemed to be more life in him.
“About time you woke up,” I said to him.
“Why…” His voice was gruff, and he coughed a few times to clear his throat.
I came over with water in a syringe and dripped some into his mouth. We continued until he nodded his thanks.
“Why am I here?” he asked.
“Well, Tamera left you for care. Her and the guy you were with thought you should stay. Though the agreement was to leave after I patched you up. Whatever it is you’re into, I don’t want it in my home,” I said honestly.
“I understand.”
“Drugs, gangs, all that hooligan activity… I don’t want it here.”
Saint chuckled, but then reached for his shoulder. Pain.
“Here, let me help.” I reached over and gave him a shot of pain medication to dull the ache.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Something to make the pain go away.”
Saint tried to sit up, and I stopped him. “We’ll need to take it easy. You’ve been pretty out of it.”
“How long was I out?” he asked.
“Off and on for about three days,” I told him.
“The bullet?”
“Removed.” I held up the baggie as proof.
“Did you call anybody?”
I shook my head. “Nope, your boy threatened me.”
“Who? Hype?”
I nodded in response before his phone rang, and I growled at it.
“Did my phone do something to you?” he asked, half smiling.
“It sure has. It’s been ringing non-stop since you got here.”
“Why not answer it?”
“I did. And there are several food places that keep telling me that your food is ready. I’m thinking it’s a prank.”
Saint chuckled again. “No. It’s my brother, Turner. It’s his way of trying to make sure I’m not in danger. Bring me the phone?”
I did, and when the phone rang again, he answered it.
“Yeah, I’m good. There was a… complication. I know. I…” he looked at me, “I’ll handle it. Please stop being creepy and send O home, so he’s not stalking her house. I’ll hang tight for a bit.” He ended the call and powered the cell off.
“Can I have a cup of water?” Saint asked.
