Chapter 33 Saint
Saint
All The Things She Said - t.A.T.u.
I couldn’t tell you a fucking word that’s being spoken around me, because that’s exactly what she does to me.
Invades my senses, demands my attention, all with a simple fucking look.
The image of her is still ghosting across my vision.
The smell of her vanilla shampoo is still infused in my airways from last night, her tiny frame still humming beneath the palms of my hands.
I never show weakness, but with Indie?
She’s managed to crash through the fortress I built in her absence.
She doesn’t even need to try; she just needs to breathe the same fucking air as me.
I wanted to keep everything hidden from her, didn’t want to cause her fear by sharing the knowledge that she could have met her demise if I’d been seconds later that night.
Because the Montgomerys made Omnia.
It’s their blood-soaked family heirloom.
They have to take it a step further when they’re redeemed; they need to kill as part of their condition.
My nightmares consist of reenactments of what she almost succumbed to.
If Rex and I hadn’t made it, if she never got the chance to send me her location, she’d never have made it out of that building; that was Conrad and George’s intention all along.
The skin across my knuckles bleaches white at the thought.
I could see it. That haunting glare last night?
I misvalued her.
A hint of the darkness rolling over her, like a silk veil slowly preparing to drown her, letting a demon rise in her place.
She was morphing into something demonic right before my eyes.
A sick, twisted part of me wanted to draw it out, see what she would unleash.
I wanted to see if her wickedness matched my own.
But the sane part of me—the very small fucking fraction of it—had to snuff it out.
Rex told me her and Regina were still planning to take them down, and I won’t underestimate her trying to sneak away from here to fulfil it.
When I walked her back to her room, I made sure Holly took guard in the hallway. Thankfully the little shit didn’t try to pull a fast one.
Dawson’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “You’re in.”
He pushes back from the computer, turning the screen for me to see.
I nod. “How long do we have?”
We’ve managed to uncover another event Omnia is hosting; this one is directly at the Montgomery manor.
And unlike last time, I’ll be attending as a ‘guest’.
“Two weeks. Gives you plenty of time to work out how the fuck you’re gonna change your appearance.”
I huff a laugh. I’ve never had to wear a disguise; the clothes and hair won’t be so hard to figure out, but the tattoos?
They’re basically a fucking beacon for me.
“Maybe the girls brought some of that face shit you could borrow?” Rex chimes in, and I flick a pen at him as he cackles.
Dawson turns the screen back to him. “No, he’ll need something more robust. I’ll ask Shona what she’s got handy.”
Shona is ex-FBI; my dad found her when he was looking for a private investigator.
She’s also a fucking expert in everything undercover. We’ve not had to venture into that part for years, but I’ll never doubt her skills.
Never doubt any of the souls that work for me.
My fingers rub the tension against my forehead. I’m more stressed about the fucking get-up than I am at infiltrating an Omnia event alone.
Dawson peeks over the screen. “You get a plus one, by the way. Sure you don’t want to join, Rex? Just in case I need to make a double order for you.”
When I glance at Rex, that earlier humour in him is gone.
“Not a good idea.”
Rex is just as invested in this as me, but where I’ve had almost sixteen years at working on this, he’s had less than half that.
His inability to not tear a place to shreds is what keeps him in the background, and I know the minute he steps foot in that place, he’s bringing the fucking walls down.
We can’t risk it, because this could be our one and only chance for what we need.
“What about you, Dawson? Not fancy getting out to stretch your legs, mate?” I tease him.
He’s a veteran, and almost ten years my senior. He’s a hound behind a screen, the very core that keeps my operation running. He allows us to gather information that would otherwise be fucking impossible to get.
He scoffs. “Who the fuck’s going to be able to keep an eye on you when you’re in there? I’ll only step foot in there if shit goes south.”
We’ve got other people who could hold the fort if he did, but no one does it quite like Dawson.
“In where?” sounds the voice that holds my blacked heart from behind me; it grips the back of my neck, demanding my full attention.
I look over my shoulder to see Indie and Regina have somehow managed to sneak in the room unnoticed.
Indie cocks a challenging brow, and fuck does it run heat down the length of my dick.
She was so shy during our teenage years, and whilst I eventually made her feral behind closed doors, she was never like this in front of anyone.
She’s got a mouth on her that I want to fuck the attitude back into.
“Look who’s nosey now.” Rex smirks, and it results in Indie flipping him off.
“Are you going to fucking tell me or not?” She turns her attention to me.
I can’t help it; I rake my teeth over my bottom lip to stifle my own smile. “You’re feisty this morning.”
If her eyes could burn holes through me, I’d be fucking see-through. That darkness from last night is still festering this morning.
Dawson speaks before I even get a chance. “Omnia event. We’re infiltrating one.”
I’m grateful that’s all he’s said, but then Indie’s gaze is back on me, and it looks like it’s short lived.
“All of you?”
I inwardly groan. I can see it—hear the words before she even speaks them.
“Just me,” I answer, and her eyes bulge.
“Are you fucking insane?”
Here we go.
Rex chuckles. He leans back to fold his arms as he prepares for the exchange; he might as well put his feet up whilst he’s at it.
“It’s been brought up in conversation a time or—”
Indie cuts him off, pointing her index finger at him.
“Shut up, Rex. Seriously, Saint? You sit there and tell Gina and I we can’t get them. In fact, you both did”—she swings that pointer like it’s a fucking wizard’s staff—“but you’re just going to waltz in there alone?”
I grimace when Dawson chips in. He’s really not reading the room, or her tone for that matter. “We’ll have a team—”
“No offence, Dawson, really. But I want to hear it from his fucking mouth. No one else.” She folds her arms across her chest, popping her hip as her glare fixates on me, head cocked.
Fucking hell.
That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
My gaze holds with her fiery one.
“Clear the room,” I murmur, and the guys don’t need to be told twice, Rex signalling for Regina to join them, hooking his arm around her shoulders as he drags her away.
When I glance over Indie’s head, Rex winks at me as he mouths, “Godspeed,” then closes the door, leaving me alone with the furious little gremlin that’s clearly gotten wet this morning.
And if she hasn’t, I’ll happily oblige with a helping hand.
“Sit down, Indie.” Her mouth forms a protest I’m ready for. “Now.”
Huffing fire, she does as she’s told, dropping into the seat Rex had occupied.
Those full lips open again, so I hook my hand under her chair, dragging it so she’s in between my thighs. The motion is so fast, she almost topples off it, her hands slapping against my chest for balance.
I lean into her, keeping my voice low. “What did I tell you last night?”
Her palms are still pressed against me; it feels like electricity is sparking beneath the contact, jumpstarting the rhythm of my heart.
Her breath brushes against my lips. She’s so close, I could inch forward and kiss her fucking senseless.
“Saint.”
“No. What did I say?”
My warning wraps around each word. I want her to say it, want her to acknowledge just how fucking serious I am about this, about her.
I couldn’t give a shit that we’ve had years apart; I need her to know every word I’ve said is like gospel, that I won’t allow another ounce of harm to come her way.
Or for her to run head fucking first into it.
Maybe I’ll buy her a leash.
She licks her lips, intensifying that fleeting urge as she stares up at me. “You wouldn’t risk me.”
I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear, tracing my thumb across her temple. “Exactly.”
She huffs, shaking her head, but she doesn’t move away from my hold. “What if I don’t want to risk you? Why should you go alone?”
There’s a twinge in my chest.
“Because if Rex goes in there, he’ll blow the fucking place to the ground,” I answer.
Her tiny hands fist around the material of my shirt, and she lets out a harsh breath. “Then let me go with you.”
Those glacier-like eyes plead with me, and if she’d asked me for anything else in this world, I wouldn’t even hesitate to say yes, even if it was physically impossible to give her.
I’d make it happen.
But this?
“Have you not been listening to a word I said?” I growl, placing my free hand over hers. It feels like an eternity we’ve been like this; I might radiate a calm demeanour, but I’m fighting every ounce of control not to take her in my lap.
Her throaty laugh coaxes a smile from me, despite the seriousness of the conversation. Hearing her laugh, seeing her so full of life and fire, settles something in me.
She looks up at me through her lashes. “I’ve heard every single one, Saint.”
Indie might have hardened herself to survive what she has, but it’s somehow made her more breathtaking.
I didn’t think it could be physically possible.
She’s the type of haunting beauty that makes me question why anyone would ever attempt a masterpiece, because unless it’s of her, nothing could be crafted more masterfully.
“Then you know why.”
Before she can even get another defiance-coated word past her lips, my hand slips behind her neck, and my mouth smashes to hers.
She instantly melts beneath my hold, and I hook my hand under her thigh, giving into the urge to pull her into my lap.