He cocks a brow. “Despite my best efforts to watch you, you somehow managed to slip undetected into your double life. Because I had no fucking idea you were out there hunting Sumus down. All that mattered to me was that you were safe.”
My knees feel weak at his words, and the butterflies that are swarming my chest are making it hard to breathe.
I need to sit down, to hold on to something to prevent myself from collapsing at a confession I’ve yearned for. But I don’t move, not daring to risk anything that could break this moment.
Or wake me up.
I wet my lips, my voice not even sounding like my own. “If I had your letter, I would have called, Saint. You know that, right?”
He dips his head in agreement, the muscles along his back rippling with movement. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what it said.
But would he even remember?
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t. If you never thought you could stand to be around me again. I’d have made sure the world was still safer for you.”
A clean line cracks down the centre of my heart. All this time when I thought he’d been moving on, living his life with someone less damaged than me, he was out there, looking after me.
“Saint—”
“Let me be clear, Indie. There’s still a bigger threat at large. Omnia might not know your double life existsright now, but they will unravel it. Everything is likely traced to me, and I don’t give a fuck if Clarke’s death falls on my shoulders. No one will hurt you whilst I’m breathing. Even if you had gotten away at the cabin, if we never crossed paths again, I still wouldn’t have stopped. The only regret I have in this world is obeying your ask.”
I blink back the first tear, an abundance of questions rolling around in my mind.
I need to know, and I snatch the opportunity to loosen the constricted space.
“How long have you been doing this?”
He doesn’t miss a beat, offering me the first sign of trust since we locked eyes in my room.
“Since the moment I landed in Kingstone.”
That…was sixteen years ago.
“And the summers spent with your dad’s company?”
He leans back, the muscles in his traps flexing as he clasps his tatted hands between his spread thighs.
“I was training for this.”
“I see.”
I know Saint’s killed people, his numbers likely rivalling mine tenfold. You don’t have a secret operation of this magnitude without it at least coming your way once.
Now I’m beginning to realise he got his practice in early.
“How does your dad know about them?”
Saint has been hesitant with the details on his operation since the moment I got here, however this feels like we’ve taken a step forward, and I’m grabbing the openness with a greedy pair of hands.
His eyes meet mine for a moment, before they focus over my head. “They took someone he knew.”
An arctic chill slips down my spine.
“My dad also has military background; he’s a bit like Gina and Dawson, a complete and utter tech maniac. He managed to track down his…friend’s last movements, then found out the last place they were seen was the Archives.”
I blow out a shaky breath. Whoever Malcom was looking for, I can tell by Saint’s death-like glare they didn’t have a better outcome than Regina and me.
He’s been crafting Saint to be his own personal weapon on the front lines.
