The two of us stare at each other, and it feels like when I was a teenager all over again.
Knowing him so well but not trulyknowingwhat he was like.
We learned everything about each other back then, but now we have another undiscovered chapter between us.
He opens his mouth to say something, but a figure in my periphery catches my attention, and I jolt back when I recognise the dark hair and tattoos.
“Rex?” I gawk at him walk to stand beside Saint, showing him something on his phone.
His gaze travels to me, a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.
“Well, well, well. Nice to see you, Indigo. Heard you’ve gotten yourself into someDexter-type shit.”
I can’t even help it; I bark out a laugh.
Tears well up in my eyes again. Despite the looming, unknown threat that clouds around us, this is a moment I never thought I’d see again, and it’s bittersweet.
She should be here to complete us.
Rex had gone travelling a couple months after our graduation. Jenna stayed back, saying it was creeping into ‘official’ territory.
I never saw him again after that.
The coating along my throat constricts; each of us had our lives changed by one thoughtless, innocent decision.
If I had gone with Saint that night, if us girls had stuck to our original plan.
If Jenna had gone travelling with him.
Our group wouldn’t have irreversibly fractured.
I haven’t even noticed that any of the people with Saint have gone up the stairs until my pink suitcases go rolling past me, followed by a pissed-off looking Regina.
She walks over to the door, arms folded as she monitors the handling of our belongings, following the last guy out. But then more come in, one of them with a toolbox.
“What is he doing?” I ask, and my body jerks when Saint stands directly behind me.
“We need to make this look real,” he says, motioning his hand to usher me out the house.
We walk towards the jeep parked on the sidewalk, the bitter night air seeping through the material of my clothes.
He leans against the car door, pulling a cigarette from the packet to light it, smoke snaking around him as he blows it into the air.
The smell of minty tobacco spirals around me, whipping around and making me lightheaded, along with nudging the padlock on my box of feelings.
I wet my lips, forcing down a swallow, before I tear my eyes away from him.
“You’re going to set it on fire, aren’t you?” I ask.
The underlying message was clear in his words: he needs us to disappear from whoever might be looking for us.
A wicked look inks over his face, the smoke creating a haze around him.
He looks like Satan’s favourite soldier as it rises from the fires of hell beneath us.
“No, we’re going to blow it.”
“You’re what?” I shriek, my ears twinging at how loud my voice carries down the sombre street.
