Chapter 11
SAINT
After lifting Sage into my passenger seat, I close her door and make my way to the driver’s seat. Settling in, I turn the ignition as the lights on the dash light up. Sage squints her eyes, as if the dash is too bright for her. Clearly, she is drunk. I hold in my laugh, pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards her house.
Sage is quiet. I keep looking over to make sure she hasn’t passed out, but when her head snaps towards mine, I am met with an angry glare.
“Why do you do that?” She slurs her words, and her eyes are not able to focus on me properly.
“Do what, witch stick?”
“Always get in the way.” Her voice is low and laced with an emotion I can’t decipher.
“Get in your way?” I question.
“Yeah, you’re always there. Whenever a guy talks to me, you’re always distracting me.” I was distracting her from giving her full attention to Dante. For some reason, that makes me smile.
“I’m distracting you?” I knew I had been. I just want her to explain more.
“Yes, I can feel you when you’re looking at me. It makes me feel… warm.” She pauses before saying the last word, as if she’s trying to figure out for herself what I make her feel. “Why do you do that?” I look over at her. Her face is leaning against the headrest towards the window, the side of her neck on display. I want to touch it, to brush my fingers down her soft skin, but I don’t. I squeeze the steering wheel instead, my knuckles going white. I’m quiet for a long moment, trying to think of how to respond to her. I want to tell her that no man will ever deserve her time. No man will ever be good enough for her. She’s Aphrodite and all men are under her spell, but their intentions aren’t pure. I can see it in their eyes. They give themselves away when they examine her body, as only predators do. No. Sage deserves someone who sees her for her inner beauty, for who she truly is on the inside, not just her obvious physical beauty. It isn’t until she turns back towards me that I finally give her an answer.
“Sage, you look great tonight.” I don’t know why I say it, but it’s the truth. Sage’s eyes narrow on me, her eyebrows pinched together in confusion.
“Uh, thank you.” She sounds stunned, as if I’m lying to her.
“You haven’t smiled like that in a long time. You should do it more often.” I don’t look over at her; I keep my eyes on the road and watch her shift uncomfortably in her seat. The rest of the ride is quiet. Pulling up to her house, I put my Tahoe in park and shut off the engine. Looking at Sage, she has her eyes closed, and the softest snore is accompanying her breathing. I get out and make my way around to her side; I pop her door open and reach over to unbuckle her. She moans as I fit my arms underneath her to carry her inside.
“Saint?” she groans, her head curling into my chest. Kicking her door shut, I make my way to her front door, maneuvering my hand to the handle and pushing the door open. Frankie is in the living room, watching some tattoo reality show, talking to the screen as if they can hear him.
“Hey, Saint. Oh shit, long night?” He chuckles as he looks over at Sage curled up in my arms.
“Nothing some water and Advil can’t cure.” I make my way through the foyer and up the stairs straight to her room. I know this house; I grew up here with Saxon. When it burned down, a part of me died too. I was ecstatic when they decided to rebuild the exact house after the old remains were cleared. It made me feel like it never burned down at all. I know Sage was haunted by the thought of rebuilding the house she almost died in, but her stance on the matter changed when she saw the house come to life in little bits at a time. It reminds her of her father, and that’s all she wanted.
I softly open her bedroom door with my boot, bringing her to her bed and gently laying her down. I pull off her boots and tuck her in beneath the covers. I’m about to leave when her voice fills the room.
“Can you help me take this top off, please? I can’t reach the zipper.” I don’t move right away. The thought of helping her undress has my dick twitching. I know she is more than drunk because no way would she ask me to help her undress sober. I take two long strides towards her as she sits up and turns her back towards me. Grabbing her zipper, I slowly pulled it down, the small crop top falling to the sides as the zipper releases from the middle. Pulling her arms through the straps, she discards the top on the floor and stands up. She’s perfect, the burn scars and all. She’s facing away from me as she begins pulling down the tight leather pants, her black thong doing little to cover her.
I know I should turn around, but the sight of her being so free and comfortable in front of me has me mesmerized. Once her pants are off, she raises her arms over her head, stretching her shoulders and arching her back towards me before climbing back into bed. Once she pulls the covers over her naked body, she curls up on her side and brings the comforter underneath her chin. I wait for her to get comfortable and start towards her door once again. Turning off her lights, I grab the door handle, but what she says next has me freezing in my tracks.
“You look great tonight too. I like when you smile at me.” Her eyes are closed as she speaks, and I can’t pull myself out of her room. I watch as her breathing becomes shallower and her small snores fill her room. It isn’t until I know she is fully asleep that I gently close her door and make my way back downstairs.
My chest feels tight as I enter the living room. Frankie is still watching his show, but it isn’t until he asks me what’s wrong that I pull myself out of the trance.
“Oh nothing. Just a long night playing babysitter with the girls.” I rub my face with my hands, leaning back and sinking into the couch to wait for Saxon. My mind starts to race with Sage’s comment. She was drunk. That’s why she said it, right? She didn’t mean it. She will probably forget everything she said and how she undressed in front of me by tomorrow. Sage undressed in front of me. Fuck, she is gorgeous. I know she hates her scars, but seeing them tonight had me thanking God that she made it out of the house before it claimed her.
I don’t know when I drift off to sleep, but when I hear a familiar voice scream in the distance, I shoot off the couch. My feet move on their own accord, skipping three steps at a time until I reach her door .
“Sage!” I yell as I push her door open, my eyes finding her screaming into her sheets. She is dreaming, tossing and turning in her bed frantically as if she’s trying to escape something.
“Sage, Sage! Wake up. I’m here!” I grab hold of her shoulders, shaking her to try to bring her from the nightmare she’s having.
“Sage!” I yell again, and when her eyes shoot open, my stomach drops. The look of utter fear and panic that floods her eyes has me pulling her into a hug and squeezing her until she realizes it was all a dream. Her sobs follow as her arms wrap tightly around my neck; our bodies pressed against one another while she slowly comes back down from her panic. Soft sobs shake her body as I lift her from her bed and into my lap. I brush her hair with my hand, letting her cry into my chest, knowing the exact nightmare that put her in this state of panic.
Since the fire, Sage has had the same dream of being locked in her burning house over and over again. I’ve seen Saxon try to calm her down more than once, her sobs tearing the muscles around my heart with the sheer pain she endures each time she has this dream. I let her stay in my arms as long as she needs. We stay tucked into one another until her breathing evens out once more. Lifting her face from my chest, she looks up at me, gratitude now taking the place of her fear.Then it all shifts in a single moment.
“Shit! Saint, I’m so sorry. How did I get naked?” She jumps from my lap, grabbing her robe and wrapping the thin fabric around her body. She turns her bedside lamp on and faces me before crossing her arms over her chest. I stand from her bed, stepping up to her and invading her personal space.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” I brush a piece of her hair behind her ear and leave her room, closing the door softly behind me. Standing in the hallway, I see Saxon rush from the bathroom, his pistol tightly clutched in his hand. A towel is slung low on his waist while soap suds are still scattered across his body.
“Fuck, what’s wrong?” He gets out, clearly out of breath from trying to get out of the shower quickly. I laugh as soap suds fall from his legs to the carpet.
“Nothing. Sage was having another nightmare. She’s fine now.” Rubbing his hand down his face, he curses under his breath before turning and heading back to the bathroom.
“Hey, Sax. You’ve got soap in your hair still.” I call after him. He flips me off before disappearing into the bathroom. I make my way to the stairs, but the sound of a door opening has me turning around.
“Um, Saint?” Sage’s small voice calls to me. I turn to face her. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep? Please?” She isn’t looking at me; she’s looking down, as if embarrassed to ask. I don’t need to be asked twice. Making my way back towards her room, I usher her to get back in bed while I remove my boots, discarding them to the side. She watches me as I take my wallet out of my back pocket and sit down on the edge of her bed. She is already lying down, still in her robe, and when I lie on my side, facing her, she instantly curls into my chest.
This is not like her. We don’t do this type of thing. We bicker, fight, and torment each other. But this—this was a new side of Sage that she’s never shown me. Her nightmare must have really been vivid this time. Her body is trembling against me, and when I wrap my arm around her waist, she instantly presses harder against me. I wonder what she had dreamed about to make her so desperate to not fall asleep alone? I know her terrors from the fire were constant and have never eased up since that horrific day, but I wonder what she sees when sleep takes hold of her? Will she ever tell me?
“I’m sorry if this is awkward for you,” she whispers, but I don’t feel the slightest bit awkward with her. Rather, I feel the complete opposite, like this is how we should always be. But I can’t admit that to her.
“We can hate each other tomorrow. How’s that sound?” I whisper back. Her small scoff is her response. We lie there together, embracing one another in a way I am not familiar with. Well, not familiar with her, at least. I wait until her breathing slows again, and I know sleep has finally taken her. Then I gently extract her from my arms and leave her alone. How the hell did the night turn into this? Is she going to regret this tomorrow? As much as I feed into the role of the annoying brother’s best friend, I’ve always had this deep-seated emotional connection with Sage. I hoped one day she’ll see or feel it too.