The Saint: The Original Sinners Book 5 Read Online Free Page A

angel is thrusting the arrow into her and she’s all on fire. Seriously, penetrated to the entrails? Sign me up for that. I wanna be a saint if I can get some of that action.”
    The entire class burst into uproarious laughter. Only Sister Margaret didn’t seem amused.
    “Eleanor,” Sister Margaret said and nothing more.
    “I know. I know.” Elle gathered up her books and headed to the vice principal’s office.
    Again.
    Luckily V.P. Wells didn’t have time for a theological argument today. He told her to stop talking about orgasms in her Catholic studies class and she promised to keep her commentary to herself from now on. He only threatened her life once before sending her out. After gathering her books from her locker, Elle left school and headed home.
    As she turned a corner at Elm Street, Elle sensed something behind her. She glanced back and saw a car in her peripheral vision. Ignoring it, she started walking again. The car followed, going slow enough to stay behind her.
    Finally the driver pulled up next to her and rolled down the window.
    “I lost my new puppy,” the man in the car said. “Will you come help me find him?”
    “Oh, hell, no,” she said, glaring into the car at the almost-handsome man sitting behind the wheel. “I saw that very special episode of Diff’rent Strokes. ”
    “Then will you come help me drive this Porsche into the ground?”
    “Oh, hell, yes!”
    Elle raced around to the passenger side, threw herself in the car and launched herself into the driver’s arms.
    “Dad, what are you doing here?” She clung to him tightly and pressed a kiss onto his cheek.
    “I haven’t seen my little girl in weeks. I thought you’d want to come on a test drive with me.”
    She slammed the door behind her.
    “Then let’s drive.”
    Her father put the car in gear and tore down the street. With her father at the wheel, the Porsche slunk through the narrow city streets with the lissome speed of a cheetah. Elle put on her seat belt without being told. Once they hit the highway her dad would rev the engine and swerve in and out of lanes. He knew where all the speed traps were and always had a radar detector with him.
    “I love it.” Elle rubbed her hands over the dash.
    “That’s real leather.”
    “Where’d you get it?”
    “Borrowed it from a friend.”
    “Can I drive it?”
    “You have a valid driver’s license and proof of insurance?”
    Elle glared at him.
    “Dad.”
    “Fine.”
    He took the exit ramp and they changed seats in a gas station parking lot.
    “Now go easy,” he warned her as she put the car in gear. “It’s got a featherlight touch. The space shuttle doesn’t accelerate this fast.”
    “That’s because the space shuttle doesn’t have its engine up its ass.”
    Elle put her foot on the accelerator and gunned it. Gravity introduced itself to her body, but she and her stomach ignored the pressure and didn’t back off. Her dad was a good driver. She was better. He handled a car like a NASCAR driver. All power and speed. She drove like a Formula One driver—pure feminine finesse. Porsches required finesse. The engine sat in the back, not the front, and many a new Porsche owner had wrecked their baby on the way home from the car lot because they didn’t know how to handle a rear engine.
    She took the exit and soon they were careening down a scenic two-lane highway at eighty miles an hour.
    Her dad sat back, looking utterly relaxed even as the trees raced by them in nothing but a brown blur.
    “Keep it steady. Don’t pump the accelerator.”
    “I’m not pumping. I’m pushing. I love this car.”
    “I’m not keeping you from something, am I?” her dad asked.
    “Nah. Just a hot date with an extremely religious, much older guy.”
    “Anybody I need to kill?”
    “Already been killed. I have to write a paper on Jesus.”
    “Okay, you can date Jesus. But nobody else.”
    “He’s about the only guy I know of who doesn’t piss me off constantly,” she