Page 50 of Hostile Saint

Over the phone, a screech rang out. “Lynx! Are you giving him alcohol?”

Lynx’s eyes bugged out as he stared at me while quietly uttering, “What are you doing?”

Confused, I handed him his beer. “What? I thought you’re the Head Cheese, and whatever you say goes.”

His mouth forming an O and eyes darting as if looking for a safe place to hide had me seriously reconsidering how powerful he actually was when it came to Elle.

“Ooh,” sneered Elle. “Is that so, Mr. Head Cheese?”

Lynx’s face contorted as he lied, “Nooooooo,” while dropping the phone onto the coffee table as if her heated anger was burning his fingers.

Watching him, I took a sip of beer, instantly complaining, “Ugh! This Sol is terrible!”

Lynx’s jaw dropped as he eyed me. “Dude, really?”

The phone went dead.

Lynx threw his hands into the air. “Fuck.”

Both staring at the phone, I asked, “Are you in trouble?”

He sneered, “I wouldn’t be if you’d kept your damn trap shut.” His cell vibrated. “Ah, shit. She’s face-timin’ my ass.”

As he tapped the phone, I looked away. It felt wrong to invade his time with Elle.

“Woman, it’s just one beer. That’s it. Me and my kid having one beer. Feel me?”

That was twice that he called me his kid. Why did it start that night? I’m not quite sure, but he did it so naturally, I don’t know if he was even aware of the change. That made my heart tighten because, even though I had believed my upbringing was normal, I still had been very aware of not being wanted. Kids aren’t stupid. They can feel when their family isn’t keen on their presence. And, of course, being tortured by my brothers was another blaring clue.

With Lynx now naturally deepening our friendship, I struggled with—well—being wanted. It was foreign. It almost felt like a trap. One that could bust my heart into pieces if it didn’t work out.

“Aw, babe,” Elle quietly said. “I feel you, loud and clear.” I heard her sniffle. “In fact, I’m headed to the kitchen right now to grab me one. The three of us will have his first, together.”

Now, my heart was outright pounding. I looked up to the ceiling, trying to dry my forming tears. It’s like my heart knew it was about to experience something I had never known; a shared moment with parental figures.

Yes, my dad loved me dearly, but that was never reciprocated by my mother.

At least, at this point in my life, I now knew why.

Unsure of how to react, I took a big swig of my beer. Before I could even swallow, Lynx lifted his phone so that Elle could see me and I could see her.

I spit the mouthful across the room.

Lynx leaned away from me. “The fuck?”

Elle was so worried. “Oh my God! Is he okay?”

Oh, I was fine, just stunned by her beauty.

Standing in some industrial kitchen I wasn’t expecting at a ‘home’, there was Elle. I gazed at her. Every curve of that flawless face blended with the next, making it impossible to determine where her absolute gorgeousness began or ended. Everywhere, there were simply striking attributes. Her hair was long, from what I could tell, and blond, waving around just like her model-man boyfriend’s.

Wiping my beer-dribbled chin, I quietly apologized to Lynx, “I’m so sorry, but you said she was old.”

“He what?” screeched his ‘Old’ Lady.

Lynx was flabbergasted. “I said, what?”

“You said the ‘old lady’!” I apologized, “Sorry, Prez, but I gotta tell ya. You’re dead wrong.” I gestured to the phone. “That ain’t no grandma. Elle looks like a model right out of a magazine.”