Heat flares in my cheeks, and before those alluring grey eyes can beckon me forward, my phone ringing breaks the spell.
Saint turns his attention to typing on his computer, a satisfied expression plastered across his face, knowing fine well that’s twice he’s cranked up my arousal meter, to then leave it humming and unattended.
The dial spins right back down to zero when I see whose name flashes across the screen. “Oh, shit.”
I glance up, seeing him already glaring at me with a cocked brow. “What?”
“It’s her,” I breathe, the beating in my chest skyrocketing as the phone vibrates in my hand.
Saint abruptly stands, pounding towards me as he looks down at my phone. “Answer it.”
My eyes glare from the phone to him. “What? No.” I scoff. The device feels like it’s burning away the flesh on my palm. Like her evilness being unveiled now radiates around everything to do with her.
The phone goes still, and I toss it onto his desk with a thump, wiping my sweaty palms down my leggings.
Right now, I don’t want anything to do with her. I wouldn’t even know what to say.
She rarely calls me; that might actually be the first time in God knows how many years.
My stomach drops.
She knows it’s me behindREVENGE.
“She—” My words fire right back down where they formed, a text dinging.
Saint twists to pick it up, glaring down at it. “Call her back.”
Fuck.
“What do I even say? She knows, Saint. She never calls. Why else would she—” He silences me with a look.
“You’re nervous.”
He slowly drags his palm away, and my arms wave exasperatedly. “Of course I am, captain obvious!” I glare at him, and he narrows his eyes on me.
“If you truly wanted to be the one to kill her, you wouldn’t be flapping right now…You’d feel nothing.”
I drag a lungful of air into my chest. I feel nothing but betrayal when my sister’s name sounds in my head. It feels like an unnatural response to want her dead.
Who fucking wants to actually kill their sister?
Then I scoff.
What sister works for a secret society that harmed their sibling?
Then there’s Barry, who was like a brother growing up. That’s a whole other level of fuckery.
If Saint’s right, and he’s gotten her into it, then his betrayal is just as bad.
This situation is so beyond fucked up, I can’t get a coherent thought or decision to solidify within myself.
Saint leans back against the desk, handing me the phone. “Breathe.”
Instead of allowing another snarky comment to leave my lips, I follow his demand, conjuring up my well-rehearsed breathing exercises to settle my heart rate.
His voice drops low. “You’re gonna call her back.” My top lip hitches up in protest, but his deathly glare makes it think twice. “I’m gonna sit right here whilst you do. You remain calm. If you’re unsure of an answer, I’ll nod yes or no. Remember what she’s done, Indie. Let it sink into your fucking bones, then think about all the ways you’llreallyget your revenge.”
His words sober me, edging on the confidence. “And if she asks where I am?”
