Chapter 35 Indie
Indie
Just Like a Pill - P!nk
Present day
The clanking of weights echoes through the gym. My muscles are on fire, but nothing is settling the burning rage in me.
Not running around the perimeter, not joining the training session.
Nothing.
We might not have been friends with Billy—hell, he was nosey as shit. But it’s just another life taken by these people.
Another threat.
Another death they won’t be punished for.
When we found Jenna’s lifeless body, the police never did find her murderer. They dragged it on for weeks, even with the text message we showed them.
They said it didn’t prove anything, and because the number was untraceable, they couldn’t use it as a lead.
I instantly called bullshit, but even Regina couldn’t crack it.
It was the early days, and if we still had it, maybe things would be different.
We didn’t need any more convincing for our own conviction. We instantly knew it was linked with the Montgomerys.
That was a turning point for us. The world I thought had tinted to grey had actually been completely inked to black.
My ass thumps to the ground, and I roll the barbell away from my hips, my glutes screaming as I repped to failure, getting lost in the memory of that night.
If Saint thinks I’m not going with him, he’s sorely fucking mistaken.
We need this.
She needs this.
But what if he’s right?
No, what if he’s wrong?
What if something happens, and everything goes to shit the minute he goes in?
They could kill him.
I throw my head back against the bench, pulling my hair tie loose and rustling my locks free. I’m getting too lost in my head; it’s fucking with my thoughts. My mind is convulsing with everything.
I stand from the floor, unscrewing the plates and walking over to the stack to find heavier ones.
When I turn around, a yelp comes from me, shortly morphing into a growl.
“Fuck, Saint. Stop with the stealthy shit.”
I snatch a plate from his hand, but his grip is like a vice; he doesn’t even budge from my tug.
“Sorry, darling, bad habit.” He cocks a brow, sliding the plate on the stack behind me.
Placing an arm on the wall beside me, he looks down at me through hooded eyes. “What’s tormenting your mind?”
I lean my head against the concrete, letting my eyes close.
I want to keep it inside, let it fester to the point I do something about it, but what use would it be?
I can’t leave here.
“Just…everything. I hate that they killed yet another innocent person, something they’ll get away with. Again. I hate that they took Jenna from us, I hate what they did to us…I hate that you think you can go in there alone.”
I open my eyes. He studies my face, brows knitted. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“You don’t know that, Saint. What if I never see you again?” I quietly admit.
I barely survived in our six years apart. I learned to live a hollow existence from pushing him away. The only thing that kept me going was working to get as many members of Sumus gone for good.
With the knowledge I now have?
The potential that they could take him from me too, after finally getting him back after all these years?
I wouldn’t survive that again, knowing he’d be gone indefinitely.
I’d become apocalyptic.
His hand reaches for my clenched one, slowly rubbing his thumb across my knuckles.
“Do you honestly think I’d walk in there, knowing there’s a chance I might not get out, when I’ve just got you back after six years?”
My heart squeezes at his confession, and I give him one of my own. “I think you’d do anything, if the risks would mean I’d be safe.”
Saint already showed me he’s left a path of destruction behind to get them back for what they did.
To me, Regina, Jenna, and his mom.
Gathering every piece of information on them, waiting for the perfect moment to cut the head off the snake.
He tilts his head. “That’s true. Though, I wouldn’t go to all that effort if I didn’t get to enjoy you after it.”
He cocks a wry smile, and I roll my eyes, dipping under his hold to grab the other weight.
I reach down to wrap my hands around it, throwing it over my shoulder. “Won’t you even consider letting me go with you? I’m not a liability, Saint.”
He’s already beside me, dropping onto the bench next to me. “No.”
His words come as a firm demand, one that sounds like I can’t work my way around it.
I exhale, abandoning the plate to stand between his knees.
“Please.” It comes out like a needy whine; I’m not letting this go.
I’ll wear him down eventually. Regina told me Dawson mentioned it was in two weeks’ time. I can work with that timeframe.
His eyes darken, his hands snaking behind my knees. “Now that’s something I like hearing from your mouth.”
My cheeks flare, despite the annoyance burning in me.
A frustrated groan wraps around his name, but his hands ghost the back of my thighs, making my heart flutter, and I force down a swallow.
“If you need me to stop—”
“No, no it’s not that.” I wade through the lust clogging my brain.
He sighs. “If you’re going to ask me again—”
“Shut the fuck up, Saint.” I slap my hand over his mouth.
I take a deep breath, my hand glued firmly against his lips so I can get the words out.
“We haven’t spoken about this, not properly. I know I broke your heart, Saint. I couldn’t stand the thought of you touching me, anyone being near me. Because I felt like damaged goods, broken. And I know that hurt you when I pushed you away.”
That little trickle of doubt inks through my mind. I really am getting too much in my head today. Though I manage to shove the words out of my mouth before I can restrain them.
“But you haven’t seen what I’ve become. I really can be a monster.”
He might be used to his own darkness, thinking he can handle mine.
Though mine has two shades.
One is tortured with the past, to the point it cripples me in agony.
The other splits me into something that I don’t even recognise.
He grips my hand, dragging it away from his face.
His voice drops low, the bass in it trickling shivers along every inch of my bare skin, and I stare at him in bewilderment.
“And do you know who I am?”
He presses soft kisses along my forearm as he watches me, whispering words that force my toes to curl.
“I’m the fucking devil, darling. And I’m ready to claim what’s mine.”
I don’t have time to react; he throws me over his shoulder, my shriek filling the gym as he walks us to the opposite end, sliding me down against the mirrored wall until I’m on my feet.
His lips latch onto my neck, licking, sucking and biting as I greedily work his belt, pulling it free.
You know what? This might actually help clear my mind.
He works his way down my chest, yanking my sports bra down and latching on to my nipple whilst I moan his name, fingers digging into his hips.
Impatience corrupts me, and I tug his T-shirt, and he pulls it off with one swift hand movement, and my breathing feels non-existent.
He’s covered in artwork, and I map the various patterns of ink, my fingers following the dip of his V.
My touch makes him shudder beneath my fingertips. My heart rate is thumping against my chest, core coiling painfully tight as each of his muscles flex, rendering me infatuated.
His lips find mine, forcing the most needy whimper from me as he drags my shorts down my legs, the coolness from the mirror against my ass causing me to gasp.
His feet knock my legs apart, a thick finger glides along my slit, and I know I’m soaked, allowing him to slide it inside me with ease.
Six years since we last did this, and the sensation has me shuddering like it’s my first time, until he abruptly stops.
I know the exact reason why.
My hands palm either side of his face, pulling him to look at me so we’re eye to eye.
“Don’t hold back,” I breathe.
He hesitates before continuing the torturous movements, going so slow my inner walls feel like they might snap with the intensity.
“Why?” he says on a strangled breath, adding another but not increasing the pace; it’s driving me fucking insane.
I lose myself in the movements, feeling that bubble about to burst.
One of the first things Saint enticed out of me was the hidden confidence, and I’ve worked hard to get it back, but I also wasn’t joking when I said I was a monster, one he helped feed.
One I’ve reserved solely for him.
“You never did before. I want you to fuck me like you hate the sight of me. For all the pain I caused you. To us.” I wet my lips. “Serve me my punishment, Saint. Make me pay for all the years we lost.”
As soon as the last word comes out of my mouth, something snaps inside him.
He snatches my jaw harshly, sending a tremor down my spine.
This.
This is how he always was with me; he never treated me like I was a delicate flower, as if a slight breeze would cause the petals to collapse.
He was possessive, almost animalistic. That’s what I crave.
What I need.
Only he can supply me with this kind of desire.
Only he arouses a fusion of fear and desire that never makes me question my safety. Because that’s what Saint is to me.
He’s my personal asylum. I foolishly breached his walls, running towards one thing he could have protected me from.
The hairs along my arms rise as he cocks his head, gently brushing my hair over my shoulder.
“No. I’m your salvation, Indie, darling. Now get on your knees. I want to hear you moan my name like a prayer around my cock.”
A sick, wicked thrill buzzes through my body.
And without a hint of hesitation, I slink to my knees, dragging his boxers with me, watching his thick cock spring free.
I hesitate, just ever so slightly, looking up into his wild and ferocious gaze.
“Indie…” My name is delivered softer than the fire behind his eyes would make you believe.
The loss of control from just a moment ago, regaining through the darkness, slipping through the haze.
He’s not giving me a warning; he’s giving me a chance to back out.