“Come on, Indie,” Dawson says, his hand hovering over my back as he leads me towards the van.
When I get inside, I kneel beside Jenna, her loose hand showing from within the blanket, and I take it, my breath catching when I feel the life inside it, the blood pulsing through her veins, her touch warm.
It’s a stark contrast to how I imagined her lifeless body the last time I witnessed her lying in the same position.
Awhoomphsounds behind me, and I angle my head over my shoulder, watching Saint stand within the flames that engulf the getaway car, rising upwards as the flames lick the overgrown trees, the heat warming the chill in my bones. Oranges and reds dance violently against his blackened silhouette as he watches.
He eventually turns, slowly walking towards me, the image conveying the devil really has risen from hell, and he’s here to see the empire that threatens him fall.
2
Indie
you said you'd grow old with me - michael schulte
Wearrivedbackatthe Pit hours ago; Saint headed straight for his office with Rex and Dawson in tow. I’m in bed and staring into the pitch black.
I went straight to my room when we got back, tore the dress off my body and stood under the spray of the shower for what felt like an eternity. Hushed tears stung my eyes as they mixed with the warmth of the water. Paralysed, I watched the red liquid slowly swirl into pink, until it was clear.
Even when I’d showered up all the hot water, I still didn’t feel purified from sharing the same space with so much evil.
So many faces I recognised either by name, by chilling memories, or by eating at the same table my mom prepared.
By loving them as family.
Hidden behind their positions of power, of names you’d expect to protect you, or never be in a title to harm you. Yet the worst is still my own flesh and blood.
My sister whose very job is to check and balance the powers of the upper levels of authority. Yet there she was, standing amongst the very evil she should be fighting to protect us from.
And for what?
I spring out of bed to throw on leggings and a hoodie. I’m not sleeping with all this energy in my body, so a run might be the only answer.
When my sneaker won’t immediately go on my foot, a bolt of aggravation surges through me. I throw it off the bathroom door, hands harshly running through my hair as I squeeze my eyes shut.
A sob rattles to get free, and the moment it gets too much, my knees buckle at the joints.
My back hits against the wall on my way down to the floor, and I wrap my arms around my knees, trying to drag in the oxygen my lungs are screaming for, to relieve them from the pain clawing my chest apart. It’s about to consume me whole.
Betrayal.
That’s all I can feel running through me as it poisons my memories, icing over the red-hot blood in my veins.
She knows.
She’s had to have fucking known what they did to me.
Never mentioning a damn word about it whilst shebelievedMom’s story that I was dealing with a heartbreak, even put aside our normal teasing to comfort me, holding me in her arms as the pieces of myself left me.
I never told her because I felt ashamed and didn’t want her to use her influence to bring them down. All the while?
She. Fucking. Knew.
A soft voice breaks through my spiralling of rage. “Indie?”
My watery eyes glance up to see Regina, standing at the threshold of my bedroom with her hand still on the door. Shecautiously walks inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click, heading towards me as she kneels down in front of me.
“L-Louisa,” my voice stutters, war waging with the agony that now accompanies my sister’s name.
