Chapter 25 Indie
Indie
Bruises - Lewis Capaldi
Present day
I break my stare with the ceiling, groaning as every muscle in my body aches.
I feel like I’ve run a marathon, still sore from my topple on the verge, and falling asleep in Saint’s car at an award angle. I was given my own room last night, Regina in the one next to me. There’s a whole wing dedicated to sleeping chambers for the people who work under his company.
At first, I thought it was going to be like an army base, rows and rows of bunk beds in some stretched-out room, but I was wrong. It seems they’ve converted some floors into bedrooms. I haven’t managed to work out just how many people live in this dystopian-type village.
I swing my legs out the side of the bed, noticing my suitcases are laying against the back wall. I let a loud sigh fill the room as my mind works overtime immediately.
I’ve woken up to a whole new fucked-up reality.
I strip out of my clothes, tossing them on the bed as I head into the small en suite to brush my teeth and shower away the lingering stress from the past forty-eight hours.
This place must have cost millions, the entire interior has been refurbished, and I can’t imagine an old factory having a bathroom like this. You can tell the fixings are younger than the facings on the exterior.
I know Saint’s family didn’t struggle for money; their house was more modest than ours.
But this type of cash?
It’s got my brain conjuring up all kinds of reasons, and just how private that security they provide is.
Stepping out, I wrap a towel round me, heading to open my case with my hairdryer in it.
When I’m done, I throw on an oversized hoodie and leggings with my high-tops, spying my gun still on the bedside table.
Muffled shouts from outside get my attention, and I realise there’s a window on the wall next to my bed.
Looking at it, you’d think it was a metal barrier to block off the square space to whatever it once led to, possibly a pipe system. My fingers trace over it, noticing there are small indents all over it, then I find a handle, and I shift it slightly, unsheathing the shutters.
That’s why the place looks completely abandoned from the outside: all the windows must be boarded up with these.
The thought makes me nervously gulp.
Has Saint been doing this the whole time? Even when we were together?
He used to help out with his dad’s company when we were younger, but I thought he meant something like admin, learning to be the CEO.
Hell, I even thought he may have installed cameras for buildings.
I had no idea this was the type of security he meant. He’s had to have been keeping this a secret from me the entire time.
A soft knock on the door has me pulling back, closing the shutters again.
“Come in.” My voice is shaky, finding its tempo on preparing for who I want it to be.
But my shoulders loosen when I see it’s Regina.
“Hey,” she says, coming inside and closing the door.
She looks around the room, walking towards my bed and flopping down on it.
“I fear you and I have taken the red pill.”
I huff a pitiful laugh at her, walking over to sit in the armchair across from her. “I think we took that a while ago. We’re just seeing more of the story.”
“Yeah, no shit,” she adds, looking around the room, then her gaze landing on me. “I gave Dawson the files last night. I think they’ve been looking through them this morning.”
My fingers knot in my lap. “Let’s hope our unlucky streak ends now.”
It’s not that I’m unhappy I finally found Saint after all this time; it’s the circumstances around it.
Why couldn’t we have been like the books? Two long lost lovers bumping into each other in a bar or a park? It would have been easier.
Instead, our story is much darker.
Hands both soaked with blood, and hearts left with holes in them.
Regina and I head out to the hallway, following the path we left from the meeting room last night.
“Hope they do food here; I’m fucking starving,” Regina mumbles as we walk down the stairs, and right on cue, my stomach rumbles loudly.
“Have you seen how jacked every single person is? They’re eating, girl.”
I eye one of them as we reach the bottom, the tall blonde woman I recognise from last night named Holly. She looks like she’d knock Regina and I on our ass with a single finger.
She asked if I needed any of my injuries looked over from the other night. I was confused, but it turns out she’s a medic.
When she left, the only injury I was worried about was the dull ache in my chest.
Regina and I are strong, but I feel like we’re walking around like new recruits, waiting for muscle mass to come to us one day.
When we reach the meeting room, my heart lurches.
I once said Saint was bad for my health, and this just proves it.
He’s leaning against the back wall, fingers interlinked behind his nape as he stares down at the computer screen, Rex and Dawson sitting, staring at it intently.
“You might want to go back for your jaw,” Regina whispers, and I nudge her with my elbow, her laugh alerting the guys we’ve walked in.
Saint’s palms tighten and release against his neck, the move almost like he did the same to my heart.
Rex gawks at us. “You two have certainly been fucking busy.”
There’s a sinisterly proud look on his face. I doubt it’s anywhere near his and Saint’s tally, with this full-scale operation they have.
“They deserved it, each and every one,” I add, walking towards the desk with Regina.
She stops, turns to look at me, then moves to the side so I can stand beside Saint.
I don’t know whether to thank her or curse her, but I slip in beside him anyway as he lowers his arms, crossing them over his chest.
My arm closest to him feels like it’s got pins and needles, little, tiny bolts of electricity sparking along my skin where we’re inches apart.
Dawson spins round in his seat like Doctor Evil, facing the three of us; all he’s missing is the cat on his lap to complete the look.
“Had a look through your files. The ones you’ve targeted are small compared to the grand scheme of things, otherwise you’d be dead by now. Clarke’s really the only one that’s going to give you problems.”
My shoulders relax, but it’s fleeting when he goes on.
“That doesn’t mean someone won’t connect all the dots eventually. Omnia is based statewide.”
I feel like I’m trying to swallow a golf ball, listening to him.
None of our digging into our marks hinted that any of them had shit that would blow back on us. Clarke was our highest profile in terms of career wise.
“How are both of these societies connected?” I ask, and Dawson answers me.
“You start in Sumus during university. After that…you’ll be granted your place in Omnia.”
Saint’s deep voice startles me when he speaks; he’s been deathly silent since we walked in. “You two can’t leave here.”
I glance at him, and he looks deep in thought, brows pinched together. “Why? What else did you find?” My heartbeats are beginning to quicken.
He doesn’t look at me, just stares straight ahead.
My inner voice is screaming for him to turn his head, give me a glimpse of those steel-like eyes so I can read what’s battling beneath them.
Even if I regret the ache it brings me.
“We looked into Clarke’s CCTV. You were on it.”
The wall behind me stops me from falling backwards, Regina rising from her chair. “Impossible. I cut those feeds and replaced them with a recording.”
Regina’s programme is robust; she splits off the live feed so that the owner sees the recording, and her one keeps an eye on me.
As soon as we’re out, she wipes the whole day entirely.
It’s how we always move, and it’s never failed us yet.
Saint finally looks at me, his eyes hard and full of thunder. “But you wouldn’t have been able to pick up Omnia’s feed.”
My blood freezes over, my gaze slowly travelling to Regina. She’s got her eyes squeezed shut.
I glance towards Saint, and he looks like he’s a second from exploding.
“They keep an eye on all their members; it’s a form of blackmail.
Just like the police files you found, they’re there if they need it.
You wouldn’t have known, because Clarke wasn’t even aware.
Their system is untraceable unless you know it’s there. ”
Fuck.
How the hell did we miss that?
We watched him for weeks, hacking his system and crawling through every single piece of information about him.
Then again, we didn’t even pick up that he was a part of this ‘Omnia’.
“I hid my face,” I whisper to him, and the storm in his eyes calms ever so slightly.
“You did. But they have the means to access any surveillance in the area. If they follow movement on that feed, track every single place you go to after that? They’d eventually catch up to you.”
I consider his words, things still not lining up.
“How would they know about…us?” I ask, my eyes searching his, stomach twisting in knots about everything we’re discussing, even the mere slink around the past.
He grinds his jaw, looking over my head when Rex answers for him.
“They won’t. Saint was discovered before your hit on Clarke; they’ll link it back to us. Omnia contacting you to lead you on a false trail was a test…it’s them letting us know they’re coming.”
Unease pours over my skin, and my hand reaches up to rub circles against my temple, trying to ease the headache that’s coming on.
I freeze my movements, my stomach dropping when a piece of the puzzle slides in.
“His wife?”
“Dead.”
My knees threaten to buckle, his words landing like a punch to the chest.
A broken, “How?” is all I can manage.
Resignation washes over his face, and he lifts his hand, hovering it halfway, then placing it on his shoulder instead.
“She reported the death as an intrusion. It went straight to Omnia. They covered it up so they could find who’s responsible.
They tracked her down and interrogated her.
She’ll have been forced to tell them everything she knew. ”
I feel sick at what he’s saying, and anxiety gnaws at me from the inside out.
I failed her.