Men and women kitted out the same as Saint and Rex walk around the grounds, some looking like they’re out on a late-night stroll—others patrolling with rifles in their hands.
Every single one of them is fitted with a bulletproof vest.
The only lights provided on the ground are from the faint glow of bulbs attached to a huge angular building, and in the shadows, it looks like it’s been left to rot.
It towers over four stories, moss and foliage wrapping around the lit-up corners. Some windows look smashed, but they’re boarded up from the inside, no light breaking through from the interior.
It looks like an abandoned factory.
I stop to glance behind me. Concrete walls stretch into the darkness, barbed wire running along the top. There’s a metal gate on the road we’re standing on, a watchtower of some kind built into the right-hand side.
We’re in a damn fortress.
Regina tugs on my arm, nudging me to keep walking.
“What did Rex say?” I ask, glancing from her to Saint; he’s leaning against a door, smoking another cigarette.
Eyes locked on me.
“Not much, just catching up most of the way. I asked him if he heard about Jenna, and if that was why he didn’t come back…he went quiet after that.”
My heart twists. Even though they were never official, it was obvious to all of us around them that they loved each other. A bit like Saint and I in the early days, fighting the inevitable.
Except their story’s ending is more bitter than ours.
We reach the guys a couple minutes later, Rex with his back to us, and Saint glances over his shoulder, looking straight into my eyes.
It’s odd; he looks almost like a stranger on the outside, but those eyes are something I’ll always know. They still belong to the same person I fell in love with.
Still love.
I’d only be lying to myself if I said it didn’t burn with a muted wrath inside its enclosure.
“Nice to see you two keep up the straggling motto,” Rex mutters, opening the door to the building to let us through.
Regina snorts. “I don’t know about you, Rex, but we’re not in the business of running headfirst into unknown territory with the fucking militia.”
All he does is laugh, walking inside as he calls over his shoulder, “Safest place in the world right here. Take a real fucking big-ass army to get through that gate.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask. Why the need?
Saint ushers us through with the tilt of his head, and Regina glues herself to my side as we walk through a wide hallway. It looks nothing like the ruins outside; the whole interior seemsto have been refurbished. Rex takes a left, and we walk through double doors into a large meeting room.
We’re met with Rex’s groan. “Jesus, Dawson. Turn the lights down; it’s like the pearly fucking gates in here.”
He heads over to the far wall to dim them, and I’m thankful, seeing as they were giving off interrogation room vibes.
Dawson, who I notice is tucked behind a lengthy desk, concealed by four computer screens, pops his head over them.
“Shut up, dickhead. The light helps me stay focused this late.” He dips his head back down, the rattling of keys continuing.
I glance over at Regina; she’s wide eyed as she stares at Dawson’s setup, and I know that look.
She’ll be behind that desk before the sun comes up.
The doors banging shut has me turning round. Saint strolls over to us, three men following behind him, standing guard at the door. The blonde woman from earlier takes one side and gives me a soft smile.
The backs of my thighs touch an empty table, and I lift myself onto it, letting my legs dangle as I watch him.
