Son of Saint (The Savage Heirs #1) Read Online Ruby Vincent

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Savage Heirs Series by Ruby Vincent
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Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
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Sienna’s stream of ebony locks was straight where mine was wavy. My nose was a flat bridge between my forehead and nostrils, while hers was a round little button. My lips full and hers heart-shaped. And her hazel eyes upturned and enigmatic, where the dark orbs in my head hid something.

In other words, she was the spitting image of Mom, and I was of Dad. Two people neither one of us wanted to think about, but had to see every day in the reflection of each other.

“It’s a deal,” she said. “I’ll get the monkey bread. You bring me another soul in need of direction.” Sienna’s eyes glazed. “There are many in this park, Kenzie. They need to know, even if they don’t want to.”

“Aye, aye.”

We split paths in front of the tent, Sienna heading for the carousel of heavenly smells wafting through Mercy Park, me wandering the other way, keeping an eye out for anyone willing to look in my direction.

You read homeless in every inch of me.

The dirt caked under my fingernails and sun baked in my skin. Jeans ripped. Shoes falling apart and held together with duct tape instead of laces. The wild knots and tangles in the thick, wavy hair that used to be my best feature.

One look at me and the majority of polite society averted their gazes. They wouldn’t stop to hear my offer of pay-what-you-can-afford psychic readings. Actually, they sped off the second they saw my mouth open—assuming I was on the cusp of begging for cash.

Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing?

I brushed the thought away.

We weren’t scammers. I didn’t distract while Sienna snuck behind and stole their wallets. We didn’t ask for something in exchange for nothing. We didn’t beg favors.

First rule of living on the streets: Don’t collect debts or enemies.

For months, that rule kept us on the edge of starvation just as much as it kept us alive. But it did keep us alive.

Encroaching on the wrong territory was how you ended up a broken pile of blood and bones in an alley. Begging money off the guys playing poker in the smoky bar back rooms was how you ended up their bitch, and stealing from the North Quay yuppies got your sketch on a police station corkboard.

That would not be me or Sienna, no matter how desperate it became. For months, we sketched out a half-life on the last of my savings and money from her psychic readings. For months, we stuck to the rules.

Then came Halloween.

Laughter, naked flesh, screams, and blood pierced the picture-perfect park scenes.

Grinding my teeth, I pushed back on the memories. Of course Sienna saw dark, grim clouds gathering around me. I saw them too.

I rounded the path, striding past the Duncan memorial. A group of six guys loitered near the tunnel entrance, passing a bottle and blunt around, laughing at something that couldn’t possibly be as hilarious as their raucous noise suggested. One of the guys caught my eye and didn’t look away.

Lifting my chin, I went up to them. The guy nudged his friends. They all fell silent tracking my approach.

“What’s this?” asked the blond one holding the bottle in one hand and his crotch with the other. “Something we can do for you, lovely?”

“Was wondering if you guys would like—”

The lanky, autumn-haired guy cut me off. “Ladies don’t come up to us wondering if we’d like our needs met till after the park closes. You should come back then.” He flashed me a row of crooked teeth. “The answer will be yes.”

“—a psychic reading,” I finished. “It’s ‘pay what you can afford,’ and it’s just in time. You can find out if I’m going to kick your ass for assuming I’m a hooker.”

They howled.

“Psychic reading, huh?” said Blondie. “Sounds fun. Max pissed on his chances, but I wouldn’t mind finding out if there’s a free ride in our future.”

I winked. “Come find out.”

Their wolf whistles went in one ear and out the other as I turned and led them back to our tiny Founder’s Day setup.

Believe it or not, smirking jackals like this group were Sienna’s biggest customers. Actual believers had their own psychics on speed dial. So that left skeptics with money to burn and time to kill. Or guys hoping we were denying being hookers just for show, and the readings were cover to take their money illegitimately while afterward, we’d sweeten their evenings.

One guy was so convinced of this, he dropped a hundred dollars on Sienna’s rickety table for both of us. Sienna informed him divorce, split custody, and a shithole Rockchapel bachelor pad were in his future, then we took our money and hauled ass the seven blocks he chased us.

I felt zero ounces of guilt for their delusions. I said up front, plainly, and repeatedly, that no amount of money would get their dicks in my mouth. If they chose to believe otherwise, it was a lesson learned for them, and a meal in my and my sister’s belly.


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