37. Hendrix #3
“Why would you say that?!” I screech, being swung back and forth like a pendulum as he replies, “Because you were born sick just like Saint.”
“Jimi! Wake up!” A masculine shout has my eyes flying open, gasping as I shoot upright on the bed, finding the blurry shape of someone next to me. I blink rapidly, unable to stop my body from cowering when his face comes into view.
“Saint? Is that…really…you?”
“Of course,” he says with confusion. “Who else would it be?”
Invisible sand fills my throat as I take time searching his eyes for any sign of black.
“Are you okay?” Saint examines me just as carefully. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
More like a monster.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. Just a bad dream.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
Glancing around the room, which is still locked up tight, I shake my head. “Nah, all good.”
“You sure? You’re practically in tears.”
I reach a hand up to touch my cheek, and sure enough, it’s wet.
“Huh.” I chuckle at my glossy fingers. “Would you look at that?”
“Was it about what happened at the club?” Saint presses, and the mere mention is enough to have the monster with black eyes flashing behind him.
“Nope. Honestly…I don’t even remember it.”
Saint’s face calls bullshit, and his lips are opening to say it, too, when I cut them off with a swift change of subject.
“Shit…when did I fall asleep?”
He checks the time on his phone, yawning, “Somewhere between a minute and two hours ago.”
Which means…
“Damn, you barely got any rest, huh?”
“It’s all good.” Saint pulls me into his chest, which has been stripped down to a white tank, and lays us down on the bed. “Like I said…no sleep for the wicked.”
Or me ever again…
We remain quiet, my unease from the dream slowly melting away with the warmth of Saint’s body, and my clarity returning in the form of his fresh citrus scent.
There was no monster in my head.
There is no monster next to me.
Just a guy whose love for me is undeniable.
And mine, the same for him.
“Please go to sleep,” I whisper, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “I’m gonna try too.”
It’s a flat out lie, but a necessary one if I want to stand a chance of getting him to listen. I already hate it enough that I’m the reason he’s barely gotten rest in days.
“You sure you’re good?” Saint breathes a low sigh, already telling me he’s on his way.
“I’m good, Letterman. Promise.”
“Alright, alright…” He yawns. “But if you need me, I’m only a blowjob away.”
Saint won round two with a nap, and I managed to cling hard enough to him to do the same.
I know this because I was just blasted out of a dreamless sleep by a loud woman in a dress and six inch murder heels.
“What on earth is going on here?” Mom snaps at me from the side of the bed.
I blink through heavy eyelids, finding her in an outrage, and Auntie in a state of not surprised.
Adrenaline hits like a punch to the throat.
Oh, shit, shit, shit.
This is not good.
Not good gets worse when I glance down to find Saint’s head on my stomach, one arm cradling my hips.
Fuck me forward, sideways, upside down .
How the hell did my mom and aunt break past the security system?
The answer to my question arrives from the doorway, typing away at his phone.
Vic. Who also doesn’t look nearly as bothered as my mother to find his son and me like this.
“Get up. Now. You’re coming with me,” Mom demands, loud enough to make Saint stir and roll off me.
“No,” I bite out, sitting up then throwing my legs over the edge of the bed. “And be quiet, you’re gonna wake up Saint.”
“You expect me to care when I find you locked in this room sleeping with him?”
“He hasn’t slept in days!” I whisper, but also kind of shout.
“Then get up so I can take you back to the mansion.”
“I promised I wouldn’t leave him.”
“Get. Up,” Mom demands again, eyes turned into angry fireballs as she pulls my injured arm.
The scrapes behind my sleeve burn as I rip myself from her hold.
“Juniper, take it easy.” Auntie Pop steps in, literally, right in front of her.
“We don’t even know the whole story yet, and you won’t get to hear it if your head explodes.
” Mom turns down the heat enough for Auntie to face me.
“We just wanna clear things up, kiddo. This is a big deal. Not only did you scare the shit out of us when the panic alarm went off on our phones, but we just found you tangled up in bed with your stepbrother.”
She’s got a point, obviously.
But it still pisses me off.
“We were in Long Island!” Mom hisses again. “In traffic! I was worried sick.”
“Why didn’t you just call me?”
“Cell reception won’t work in these rooms when they’re in panic mode,” Vic states from the foot of the bed, still working his phone. “I have it this way to avoid tracking.”
Jesus.
“And it’s not like Carlo was able to get in to reassure me,” Mom adds with a huff. “For all I knew you could’ve been getting attacked again.”
Yeah. With an entire army in the building.
Vic finally puts the damn phone in his pocket. “I tried telling your mother she had nothing to worry about, that chances were Saint was trying to teach you how the system works. But…” He tilts his head side to side. “She insisted we head back to make sure.”
“In other words, she was being dramatic.”
Auntie snorts, which doesn’t help with Mom’s feminine rage.
“Well, not completely,” Vic argues. “You guys should’ve given us the heads up. Or at least Carlo. I’m unable to override the system without—”
“Facial and voice recognition,” I cut him off. “Yeah, I know because unlike you guys Saint is being honest with me.”
All three faces fall. But only Vic speaks.
“I promised I would give you the truth when I can, Hendrix. As of right now, my main priority is keeping you, your sister, and brother safe.”
I look over my shoulder at Saint, who must be lost in a much more peaceful dimension than this one, because he smiles in his sleep.
Okay, that’s a little creepy.
“Her brother? Or boyfriend?” Mom snaps at Vic, who’s only response is a long, drawn out breath. So, she turns her glare on me.
“Tell me, right now, Hendrix. Is there something going on between you and Saint?”
I’m in no way, shape, or form ready to have this conversation with them. Mostly because when I did I wanted it to be with Saint. But my reluctance is not even close to being more important than his need to rest his worries.
Therefore, fuck it. I’m all in, even if it’s alone.
“Yes. There is.”
Mom’s face reddens, Auntie looks down, and once again Vic has very little reaction. Something that seems to piss my mother off even more.
“Aren’t you going to say something, Vic? Our kids are in a relationship .”
“What do you want me to say, June?”
“I don’t know…maybe how it’s wildly inappropriate?!”
Once again Vic does the side to side head tilt thing. “I mean, they aren’t blood related. Besides…my parents were cousins.”
I press my lips together to hide a laugh, until he adds, “I would’ve just preferred they get married first before… you know .”
If I had a drink in my mouth, it’d be spit out all over the floor.
“Married?!” she squeaks, and Saint finally shows signs of life by mumbling sleepy gibberish.
As for Auntie, she looks like she’s about to grab the bag of popcorn on the table.
“You know how I feel about sex before marriage.”
I don’t know whether I should laugh at his naivety or throw up because of how serious he is.
Vic can’t possibly believe Saint is a virgin.
There’s no way a man who has eyes everywhere can be that fucking blind to what’s in front of him. A retired fuck boy of a son.
This revelation does make some sense though, in regard to his and Mom’s rushed marriage.
Guy needed to get it in.
“Can we just not?” I cringe. “This conversation brings on too many gross images.”
Some worse than the ones from my nightmare.
“I need a moment with my daughter,” Mom orders in a way that has neither Auntie or Vic hesitating to leave the room and close the door behind them.
“Hendrix.” Mom closes her eyes but respects my feelings enough to whisper. “You cannot be with him.”
Rising quickly to my feet, I trudge into the bathroom, and mom follows suit. “Why? Because Saint’s my stepbrother?”
“No…because he is dangerous.”
This woman has to be kidding me.
Has to be.
“Mom. You had a kid with a Salvini fall guy, and now you’re married to another guy who screwed over Bratva for them. Do you see the toxic pattern and how it has nothing to do with an eighteen year old?”
Pain flickers in her gaze, and I feel bad, but not enough to accept the hypocrisy. “You said it yourself, Hendrix…he’s troubled.”
“What happened to ‘everyone has their issues’, huh?” I cross my arms. “What about mine you still tiptoe around? That had little me enjoying choking the mean girls, and adult me enjoying slicing their faces?”
My most recent violent outburst is still a sore subject for us, even after what happened to me outside the club. I can tell Mom is scared of me going back to my old ways, of how much harder it would be to control myself, and how harder the punishments may be if I don’t.
She has a right to be too.
Because I may not be proud of what I did to Annalie, but I don’t regret it for a second.
“Another reason Saint’s not good for you, Hendrix. You’re both ticking time bombs waiting to explode.”
“Yet you and Vic trust him to be around me? Protect me?”
“Hendrix…”
“No.” I point a finger at her. “You don’t get to make the decision for me not to be with Saint. Not after you didn’t even consider talking to me before deciding to marry his fucking dad.”
“This is different, baby.”
“The fuck it is! We love each other. Just like you and Vic.”
Mom’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again when she says, “You…love him?”
“Yes,” I grit harshly through my teeth. “And if any one of you try to break us apart, I can guarantee those time bombs you mentioned will no longer be waiting to explode.”