Bane (Sinners of Saint, #4)

by L.J. Shen

Café Diem

Café Diem. So, Café Seize the Day. Nice 🤌🏼

Ocean eyes.

hey Siri, play ‘Ocean Eyes’ by Billie Eilish 🌊🤍

I’d only had one girlfriend in my life, Edie, and although she was feisty and brave, she was never so angry. I seemed to have brought out the red in Jesse, and I couldn’t lie—it turned me the fuck on like Christmas at Bethlehem.

Bane, how do you even come up with these? 💀🤚🏼

“If I make you a smoothie, do you promise to drink it?” My eyebrows dove down with suspicion. “Are you gonna put jizz in it or something?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I have it handy in my purse.” I grinned. Like it mattered. I’d lick the sweat between her ass cheeks after a hot yoga class if it wasn’t for the contract I’d signed.

no. no, please no. 💀😭

I leaned against the counter, Gail and Beck by my side, as we all watched Jesse dumping banana pieces, strawberries, vanilla yogurt, coconut water…then spinach, kale, avocado, cream cheese, ginger, cayenne, tofu…

nice jesse 🥰

It was only then—with Beck behind me and Gail lined up with me, but not anywhere near Jesse—that I noticed that I was blocking people from Jesse. It had become second nature to me at this point. See a person that’s not me ➔ put myself between him/her and Snowflake ➔ make sure he/she doesn’t get anywhere near her until we are out of the room.

interesting... 📝

Jesse started the blender and I watched in disgust as every single thing we had in stock swirled together into a smoothie from hell. Once she was done, she made a show of biting her lower lip, leaning forward, plucking a large slushie cup from the pyramid of cups and pouring the smoothie into it, as the entire room watched her with awe mixed with disbelief. I guessed she was oblivious to the fact that everyone was watching her. Or maybe she knew, and for a moment there, she was the Jesse prior to what had happened to her. Confident and feisty and a lot of fucking fun. She slid the cup across the counter and tilted her head sideways, batting her eyelashes. “Here, Mr. Protsenko. I truly hope this will be to your satisfaction and will result in my employment.”

SLAYYYYYY

Take it from someone who’d visited Russia often enough to remember the small details—this shit could only happen in America. The way people unite to see someone do something completely stupid is uplifting, if not downright inspirational.

“You’re funny,” I said flatly. “And you’re stalling.” She grinned. Hot. Fucking. Damn.

But, really—was that my thank you for dragging her ass back to civilization? At the same time, I couldn’t ignore how fun it was to finally be challenged, and, yes, even ridiculed. Beck drummed the counter, and Gail clapped her hands excitedly, woo-hoo-ing like an extra in a nineties high school movie. Jesse’s eyes clung to my face, so I picked up the cup, my eyes locked on hers as it touched my lips. “You’re going to regret it,” I hissed into the brown foam on my lips. “So are you,” she whispered, her eyes holding mine. I downed the whole disgusting thing without breathing through my nose once.

I FRICKEN LOVE THISSSSS

People burst into applause, like kernels of popcorn exploding in a microwave bag, and Jesse laughed so hard she had to brace herself against the counter. I pretended to launch at her, and she pretended to run, her shoulder brushing mine. Instead of flinching or running, she just straightened back up, wiped a happy tear off her face, and smiled at the brownish-greenish foam that clung to my upper lip. “You’re hired,” I growled into her face. For a second, it looked like she might just wipe the foam off with her thumb. For a second, it looked like old Jesse would bulldoze her way into the room. But in reality, she turned around and moved away, calling for Shadow.

🧡

That was fine by me, because even though I didn’t get the old Jesse, I’d still managed to do something monumental that day. I’d killed The Untouchable. And for the first time in a long time, her sky wasn’t going to fall.

ROMAN-MOTHERFUCKING-BANE-PROTSENKO 👏🏼🤌🏼💃🏼

We weren’t a boy and a girl. We were two lonely, fucked-up souls. It made wanting Bane in my life acceptable. I wanted him to fix me. To cure me. To hold me. To make me laugh. To make the pain go away. More than anything, I wanted him to lift my shirt, see the scar, kiss it better, and tell me that I was beautiful.

❄️🤍

Maybe that was the difference between Bane and all the others. I didn’t want him. I needed him to remind me how to breathe.

I liked to think of my memories as a graveyard for my thoughts. Moments that were already dead, so I didn’t have to worry about them happening again.

Falling in love is when you lose yourself slowly, piece by piece. Infatuation is when you lose yourself all at once. Love is like ivy. It wraps around you, chokes every part of you quietly. It is not patient, or kind, or gentle. It is needy, cunning, and suffocating.

this line is stunning.

I was partly relieved at Bane’s rejection of her advances and partly furious that she had pretended to care about me when actually, all she wanted was to sleep with the guy who’d tried to befriend me.

Most of all, I felt unequipped to deal with all the sudden changes in my life.

real

“Sharing is caring,” she drawled. “Spare me the bullshit, Pamela. You’re one of the most capitalist people I’ve ever met. You wouldn’t share a pile of shit if you thought someone else truly needed it.”

Bane spittin’ facts fr- and stfu parmigiana 😡

My heart swelled, and I was pretty sure I meant it in the literal sense of the word. I felt it spreading inside me, almost too big to carry.

“I don’t look at her that way.” “Like what?” “Like a cum-soaked hole. Besides, she’s too young for me,” he snapped. My jaw tensed. He was only five years older. We’d both be in our twenties in a few weeks. Another invisible ivy branch curled around my leg, rising higher, toward my knee. Why does it bother you?

He smiled one of his relaxed smiles that felt like a lullaby. His next sentence came as a hushed whisper. “Already told you. I heard all the rumors about you, Jesse. Fuck ’em. Fuck ’em to death. Fuck this town, and its preppy, judgmental residents, and every idiot who looks at us funny. Don’t you get it? We’re the outliers. The rejects. We’re free. Free to do whatever the hell we want, because it won’t matter. We’ll never fit in here, so we don’t have to try. We’re liberated from all this bullshit.” He motioned around us with his hand. “They can’t hurt you if you don’t give them permission to. So don’t.”

preach babe 🫶🏼

Our hands almost brushed when he opened the door to the shop for me, prompting something inside me to rise like a tide then soar like a tsunami.

🌊🧡

There was something about Bane that made me want to reinvent myself. To try something fresh.

“Surprise me.” We reached the end of the promenade and waited for the light to turn green before we crossed it. His palm found mine, but he kept looking at the traffic light, like nothing was happening, all bored and indifferent. “Okay?” he whispered under his breath. “Okay.”

currently crying and screaming inside rn

Loving my mom the way I did—unequivocally—reminded me that I was human. Intimacy scared the shit out of me, otherwise.

Like when she’d written endless letters to my teachers and principals when I’d gotten into trouble, she would always refer to me as “my sun”. “My sun didn’t do this.” “My sun didn’t say that.” She’d been right most of the time. I was scapegoated a lot for being the Russian, single-parent kid. Still, I would slap the letter onto the kitchen table with my palm and growl, “Mom, it’s s-o-n, not s-u-n,” and she would yell back, “I know exactly what I meant. You are my sun. Why do you think the words are so similar?”

aw my goodness- stop 😭🧡

“How are you doing, my darling sun?”

🥹🫶🏼

I took the glass of vodka she had offered me, planting a soft kiss on her head. She was dwarfed by my six-two frame, the top of her head barely reaching my shoulders. “I’m drinking vodka in the middle of the day with no shirt on and hanging with my favorite girl. Nuff said. You?”

bane- you are so soft and you don’t even know it yet- 🥹😭

Mom asked more questions, and I ended up telling her everything. About the gang rape and the sex tape and all the other shit that made Jesse’s life sound like a Netflix show. Thirteen Reasons Why I’m Going to Kill Emery and Co.

😭💀not the ‘thirteen reasons why’ pun-

“I love you,” she said, and I went uh-oh in my head, because that sounded like the beginning of a speech that I’d hate. I rubbed my index finger over my front teeth. “You’re not too bad, either.” “But,” her voice rose, cutting through my shitty joke, “for the sake of being honest, and as a rape victim—please don’t take this the wrong way. I’d never replace you, never not have you. You’re my fate, my blood, the sunshine upon my skin.” She took a shaky breath, closing her eyes. “If you get into this girl’s life, you cannot leave without a trace. You know that. Right, Roman?”

stfu bane💀

“I love you,” she said, and I went uh-oh in my head, because that sounded like the beginning of a speech that I’d hate. I rubbed my index finger over my front teeth. “You’re not too bad, either.” “But,” her voice rose, cutting through my shitty joke, “for the sake of being honest, and as a rape victim—please don’t take this the wrong way. I’d never replace you, never not have you. You’re my fate, my blood, the sunshine upon my skin.” She took a shaky breath, closing her eyes. “If you get into this girl’s life, you cannot leave without a trace. You know that. Right, Roman?”

Aw Sonya 🫶🏼

“I’m not an idiot.”

Now me? Personally, I would disagree 🤡

It was the first time it dawned on me that I would have probably done this favor to Darren even if there weren’t a huge chunk of money involved.

“Make me proud, Roman. Do the right thing by her.” I promised her that I would, and when I came out of her house, my heart cracked open.

🥺💔

I felt the blood of a savage, rapist mafia rat pumping in my veins. They were like snakes beneath my skin. I wanted to tear them out of my body and dump them on the ground. To fall on my knees and bleed to death. Because most of the time, I didn’t feel like a good person. But today, I felt like a bad person. The kind of bad Jesse didn’t need in her life. The kind of sun that didn’t caress and nourish life, but burned shit to the ground, turning everything to ash.

this right here. man this hit somewhere deep.

I wanted Snowflake. I did. I wanted to feast on her pussy and fuck her tight little body senseless and kiss that tattoo on the back of her neck, telling her that I’d seen it before and liked it. That I saw her before and wanted her. That she wasn’t just a goddamn sob story for me.

No one was pretty the way Snowflake was. Everything around her faded, like a poem with burned edges. She was the lyrics inside it, so focused and sharp.

❄️🧡

I’d never told that to anyone before, and whoever said the truth will set you free needed to have their head examined. The truth felt like a five-ton chain around my neck. The truth was, the beard was my armor. I’d started growing it when I started getting paid for sex. Less of my face to look at in the mirror. And for my next trick, ladies and gents, I will become the whore my father pegged my mother to be. Only worse. She didn’t ask for it. For the right price—I will.

You make me feel brave. Powerful. You make staring at myself in the mirror without flinching slightly easier.

🥺🤍

“Dafuq?”

dAfuQ💀

“I’ll cut the beard.” What the fuck? Where were my balls? Probably in the same place I’d left my brain, because I was very clearly shitting all over six million dollars.

I wanted to yank his tongue out for ruining one of the hottest moments of my life with his lisp and lemur eyes.

💀

I observed the view, realizing that her window overlooked Mrs. Belfort’s maze. The pieces of the puzzle came together with a satisfied click. That’s why she knew her way around it by heart. Little devil.

okay wait that is so cute-

“What’s yours?” a small voice chirped from the doorway. Both our gazes darted toward the door. Snowflake was there, looking thoroughly-orgasmed and oh-so-pissed. Sonovofuckingbitch.

felt his fingers brushing my ink. Trailing down, to my spine, further south, to my waist. He clutched my hipbone, and not gently. His mouth pressed against my tattoo, and it was warm and perfect against the roughness of his beard on my skin, just like I’d imagined earlier in the bathroom. A breathy grunt escaped me the moment his lips touched my flesh.

“Saw it before,” he whispered. “You did?” He nodded into the curve between my shoulder and neck. “At the beach. A few years ago. Red bikini. Cherry-patterned.”

Bane- she is most likely gonna freak out- you shouldn’t have said that 💀 you are ‘too drunk on pleasure’ 🤪

I remembered that day. What surprised me was that he remembered me. I licked my lips, waiting for him to continue.

Okay so not freaked out- i mean it is fiction-

“Snow White waited for the prince. You’ll be the one saving yourself in this story.” I blinked at him, thinking about what my dad used to say, his accent thick, almost as strong as his words. “You don’t need a prince, princess. You need a sword.”

❤️

“But I haven’t been kissed in…” Nine hundred and three days, four hours, twenty-four seconds. Since my eyes had met the red dot of the recorder while I lay underneath Emery. Since my fate had been sealed. I cleared my throat. “In a long time.”

girlie be counting since forever 💀🤚🏼