What I’m worried about ishis.
Saint gets us checked in, and we head down a dimly lit corridor. The overhead light does nothing for the fact it summons the same vibes as a horror movie scene: maroon carpets, dark beige tattered walls stretching into the beyond, and an uneasy breeze biting at your ankles.
As soon as we’re in the room, Saint leans against the wall, staring down at me. The bedside lamp casts his face in a mask of shadows, except for his glowing grey irises that pin me in place. “Tell me, word for word, what happened when I left.”
He only gave me an earpiece. I know Rex will have communicated everything Barry said over text, hence why Saint almost blew the doors off the front of their house upon his entry.
But this man seems to thrive in torture.
“Barry thinks it was you and Gina at the manor, that I’m protecting her. I think…” I drag in a breath, having to voice my suspicion. “I think he believes it’s been Regina taking the marks. He said something about Louisa thinking I’m innocent in this.”
I bite my inner cheek, not wanting to voice the next threat.
Saint’s warning glare tells me otherwise, and my jaw flexes before I open my mouth. “He wants you both to hand yourselves over to the manor, or else he has plans.”
If anger could reveal its true form, it would roll off Saint in a slow-moving fog, tinged the brightest colour of red, and have a heat that even hell would envy. “Did he touch you?”
“Saint—”
“Did he put his fucking hands on you, Indie?!” he roars. It feels like the vibrations rattle the plasterboard. The sound waves thunder beneath my feet as it travels like an atomic bomb.
He clamps the control back in place, shoulders battling with the ebb and flow as he focuses on his breathing, fingers interlinking behind his neck.
I’ve seen Saint pissed, but never,everthis mad.
I drag my teeth over my bottom lip, throwing my eyes to the heavens as if they’ll grant me the strength I need to tell him what he already knows.
Saint really is a masochist, in every way, shape and form.
He wants me to voice what my brother-in-law did, just so his fury can have more gasoline thrown onto it. So I keep my voice small, praying he might not hear the answer. “Yes.”
The grey in his eyes disappears as he flutters his lids closed.
I canfeelthe atmosphere thickening as he fights to battle his inner demons. It’s like witnessing a slow-moving timer, knowing when that dial hits zero, the Omnia’s world will be left as nothing but blood and ash.
When his eyes open, I already know they’ve rolled to the back of his head, consulting with the devil inside him, and he’s come forward to take his place.
How long for? I couldn’t confidently answer that; the look on his face says he might be here to stay.
His voice is low, eerie and incredibly steady compared to a second ago. It doesn’t waver, despite the sparks firing off his entire being. “Get some sleep whilst I figure this out.”
“Will you come to bed?” I ask, hoping that if I can just get him to lie beside me, I can calm his mind. Take everything away like he does for me, reassure him that it meant nothing, I’m not hurt, and I haven’t been shaken up enough to be scared.
The only thing I fear right now is that he and Regina obey their demands.
And the only thing that’s allowing me to keep back just enough from the edge is that Rex and Dawson wouldn’t allow either of them to go.
“I will once I’ve thought some shit through.”
He’s going to stay up all night and plot my brother-in-law’s demise, and he’s going to make sure he can label it glorious.
My plea comes out in the form of his name, and he slowly walks over to me, engulfing me in his arms. Just when I think it’s working in my favour, his hand clutches my nape, and he presses and holds a harsh kiss to the top of my head—a small sign that he’s waging a war in his mind.
Anything I say will fall on unwilling ears. “Just let me think, darling, please.”
My eyes squeeze shut. He’s desperately trying to hold on.
I drag in the volatile air around us. “Don’t think right now, just hold off for a few minutes.”
