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I can’t help but wonder about Ace’s past. The others have given me little pieces of their trauma, but not Ace. He’s wound tight with his walls high. He’s only told me about the night his sister died in his arms, but I want to know him, how he grew up, all the good, all the bad. I try to tell myself that it doesn’t matter, but my heart doesn’t agree, it wants to know everything about Ace Lennox.
“But we didn’t stop there. After that we went after wealthy pricks around here, doing extensive research, finding ones that are skating on past their sick and disgusting crimes. Then we’d kill them.”
This explains the list of rich people that have gone missing over the past couple years. Enough to make the FBI concerned and get involved.
“What about the money missing from their accounts?”
Ace smirks. “We have a special way of getting them to give their banking information—account numbers, usernames, passwords, whatever we need.”
“You mean by torturing them?” I ask.
“Exactly. Now you’re getting it.” Ace chuckles.
“What do you do with their money?” The real question is how they weren’t caught by the FBI.
“We didn’t think the missing money would go undetected forever, so we had to plan for that. Thanks to online banking and anonymous proxy servers, we’re able to drain the accounts without it being traced back to us. If anyone tried to trace the money, it would bounce off multiple servers in various locations, making it damn near impossible to trace back. The money is transferred to offshore accounts, then we slowly move the money through Trinity to make it look more legit.”
“Okay, so you just make yourselves richer using their dirty money?”
“No, well, yes, but that’s not all. Once it's been cleaned through Trinity and put into our real bank accounts, we donate the money.”
I really wasn’t expecting him to say that. “Donate?”
“That’s why we’re called the Saints. The money goes to charities, nonprofit organizations, anything to help people like the victims of the scum we kill. We aren’t total monsters, princess,” Theon’s voice trails from behind Ace.
I’m confused how the three murderers in front of me are using their crimes to do positive things in the community. Is there such a thing as a good psychopath?
“Saints?” That’s fucking ironic.
“The community started calling whoever was making regular large donations a saint. We liked the name so we started calling ourselves the Saints. It feels fitting considering we’re ridding the world of evil,” Blais purrs, pride dripping from his voice.
“I’ve never heard of the Saints… I’m guessing the community looking up to this person they call the Saint, doesn’t know how you get the money.”
“It’s not like we’re going to announce to the world that we’re also murderers, only a few people know us as the Saints. There are people that live for that sort of thing, the fame and recognition of being serial killers, but we’re trying to not get caught, temptress.”
I fight the urge to laugh at how ironic their name is. The Saints.
“So you’re telling me that you take the money of the people you murder and give it away to help others?” I can’t hide the skepticism dripping from my words. That sounds way too good to be true. Maybe they are just trying to make themselves sound better so I don’t completely freak out.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, temptress. We couldn’t protect Allie, but we can help other victims. Maybe the result of our egregious criminal acts will save someone’s life. If the money can help keep them off the streets or out of these monsters’ homes, then maybe they can live.”
I’m slowly starting to see this is kind of like how I murdered my ex-husband, then joined the FBI to help others because I couldn’t get over the guilt of not feeling remorse for killing him. I’ve thought of myself as a good person, but there’s always been something deep inside that I couldn’t recognize. But I understand it now. Darkness, like the three sets of eyes staring at me right now.
The FBI was supposed to help me. I was supposed to join, do good for the community, save people, lock up bad guys, but the relief I wanted never came. I was doing all of those things, but I still felt the same. I didn’t feel better. I still tried to keep the demons at bay every single day while pretending I wasn’t bad. That I wasn’t corrupt.
Ace said that killing the evil of the world made them feel better, so why didn’t locking them up do the same for me? Is it not enough, does the darkness of my soul need more than that?
Anger burns in my veins, but mostly at myself. I was supposed to use my job as an agent to kill the darkness that lingers under my skin, but now it feels more alive than ever. I wasn’t supposed to fall for three men who are the epitome of evil, who I would’ve put in prison without a second thought if they hadn’t kidnapped me and made me care about them.
The fury and confusion of who I truly am floats to the surface. Everything feels like it’s spinning while destruction rips through me.
“You’re exactly like the people you kill. You’re just trying to justify it by saying you’re doing it for good,” I growl, taking my anger out on them. I don’t believe the words out of my mouth for one second, I’m just trying to make myself feel better. Prove that I’m better than they are. That there still is a part of me that’s good. That my parents and grandparents wouldn’t be disgusted by me.
But in reality, I’m not. We’re the same, and I see that now.
I have this darkness inside me that sings whenever I’m around them. I’ve tried to compress it for years, but they’ve shown me that I should be embracing it. I shouldn’t try to hide it, at least not from myself.
Ace snaps, grabbing me by the throat, making me gasp for air. “Blais, get behind her,” he commands before snarling at me. “We are not like them. They hurt and kill innocent people with no repercussions. We may get away with our crimes, but they aren’t even close to being innocent, they’re the scum of the earth. They deserve what we do to them.”
