Chapter 37 Indie
Indie
Sweet - Dark Eye, ELZON
Soft, subtle light glows against my eyes; they flutter open to a room I don’t immediately recognise. When I flex my palm, suddenly aware of the heat radiating from the man beside me, I instantly ease up.
Saint lies on his back, his head facing away from me, the smooth rise and fall of his chest telling me he’s still asleep.
I steal the moment to drink him in; he really is the most handsome human to walk this planet. His dark artwork just adds an extra edge to him, making him look even more dangerous than he already is.
He’s impossible to resist, and his eyes enrapture me in a temptation that breaks every barrier I’ve ever built around myself.
His full, dark lashes flutter, and a faint snore pushes past his lips, urging a gentle smile on my face.
I’ve never seen the devil look so peaceful, the permanent dip of his brow relaxed, like the constant stress and worries have left him, along with the filthy words that made my toes curl last night, all of it kept at bay by his slumber.
I carefully unwrap myself, ready to place my feet on the ground, when a thick hand grips around my wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Saint says, his voice rough with sleep, and I huff a laugh as I turn back to him.
“Jesus, you were snoring two seconds ago.” I smile.
He turns his head to face me, the faint morning sun breaching through the shields of the window, making those grey eyes glow.
He runs his free hand through his messy hair, adding to that already gorgeous bedhead.
“I don’t snore; I breathe deeply. Besides, I’m always aware of my surroundings. You don’t exactly move with the fucking grace you think you have.”
I bark a laugh, giving in to the tug he has on my arm, and lie back down beside him. “You’re an asshole in the morning. Did you know that?”
“And you’re being loud. Tone it down; this is my first peaceful morning in years.”
There’s a bundle gathering in my chest.
I know he said he’s been training for this since he was young, but just how much of a toll has it all taken on him?
Rolling onto my stomach, I fold my arms on his torso, resting my head atop of my hands. “Have you ever done anything else apart from…all of this?”
Saint’s been opening up to me more and more, and after last night—hell, the last couple of days—we seem to have slipped back into old habits.
Last night felt like something fused back together.
Like there’s never been a day spent apart between us.
He shakes his head, running his fingers through the hair along my back. “Never. It drove me forward with purpose.”
My gaze is fixated on him, watching as he gently plays with the strands of my dark hair, the sensation making my eyes feel heavy again. “What about when we were together? Did you ever think you’d continue to see it through?”
His eyes shift to me.
“I questioned it. More so for the risks that would come to you if shit ever went south. But even when I hadn’t taken over, they got to you anyway.” His voice grows quieter, jaw setting like steel.
I run my thumb back and forth across his collarbone, a gentle reassurance as I watch his gaze drift off with his dark thoughts.
“Neither of us could have predicted that would happen, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
His throat flexes, and he fixes his intense gaze back to me. “Do you find it hard to talk about?”
I bite my inner cheek. “Sometimes. It depends on how strong my mind is that day. Even then it’s not guaranteed. I actually think about what it did to me before I kill one of them. Seems to eradicate any unnecessary guilt.”
My cheeks heat at that confession.
I haven’t even told Regina I do that; she’s often wondered how I can flick the switch—turn into a killer.
When I step into that role, I think about the shell I became.
Everything else turns to red outside of that.
His hand moves to my shoulder. “Tell me how you got yourself out of it.”
His touch instantly sparks electricity beneath the pads of his fingers, goosebumps trickling all the way up my neck.
Hell, that’s not an easy story to tell.
How most nights were spent being suffocated by the abyss, the light at the end of the tunnel never seeming to grow larger, until it did.
“I did some therapy. Gina and I both went. We started martial arts classes. It helped with the anger, controlling my mindset. But then…” My mouth clamps shut, not wanting to go round in circles with what I was about to say.
Saint’s hand gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Tell me.”
I blow out a shuddery breath. Might as well get it all out, nothing left unsaid.
“I went back a couple of steps after you left. I thought you’d decided to move on, and I know that’s ridiculous to say because I told you to leave.”
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have fucking listened to you. I left and took it as a chance to protect you. Stop blaming yourself for that, Indie. I need you to let it go. If you’d have gotten the…”
I sit up, the bed sheet pooling at my waist. “The letter?”
Honestly, that had completely slipped my mind. He told me about it when he broke into my house, and I was too caught up with actually working out if he was fucking real or not to even take a step back and ask more about it.
Then came the avalanche of information after it.
He sighs, interlinking his hands behind his head. “Yeah.”
I finish the sentence in my head that we’re both thinking.
Maybe things would have been different.
There’s a couple beats of silence, and when he doesn’t add anything further, I let the thought that’s now roaming around my head come to life. “Do you think they took it?”
“It’s the only logical explanation. The timelines match up with what happened to Jenna. I left it in your bedroom.”
Irritation crawls up my spine, the fact that one of the Montgomerys broke into my house, my bedroom, and took the letter he gave me.
They’d obviously read it and took their chance to steal something that left me even more vulnerable.
“So, they likely tried my house first, and noticed I wasn’t at home?” I ask, the aggro piquing inside me.
I wonder if it was a hunt to find who they could get first. Unfortunately, it ended up being Jenna.
It could have been any of us, but they just had to take the one who spoke up against their bullshit behaviour.
The one person who had no relation to it, just had a backbone to stand up against what was wrong. Her own bravery forced me to find my own.
Saint shifts on the bed. “That’s what I believe.”
My spine steels, feeling my muscles tighten all over at the rage bubbling beneath me.
“I fucking hate them,” I hiss through my statement. This is just adding to the urge I have to kill them both.
Their reign of horror will end with us.
Saint’s hand ghosts up my side, a smirk building on his face. “I’ve seen that look twice now.” Amusement is laced in his tone.
My arms fold under my chest, and I scowl at him. “What look?”
I narrow my eyes tighter the bigger his smirk grows. “That murderous fucking glint in your eye. A sick part of me really wants to see you unleash it, darling.”
Heat instantly pools in the pit of my stomach, but I’m still feeling the darker effects, fired up and ready to break something to release it.
“Would you like me to test it on you? I can show you what would happen if you don’t let me go with you to this event. Haven’t forgotten about it, by the way.”
I cock my head, waiting for his reaction.
Saint might be able to evaporate my motor skills with his tongue between my legs, and he’s been damn good at making me fall for his charm instead of letting me push him to give in. But this?
No, I’m not letting him go alone.
“For fuck’s sake, not this again,” he groans, and I decide I’ll adapt some of his techniques.
My legs straddle over him; I pin his arms above his head the moment he unhooks them, his lazy morning reflexes no match for my lightning reaction.
“Listen to me, Saint Blackwood. I’m fucking coming with you, whether you like it or not. If you don’t agree, I’ll find a way to sneak in, and I know just how pissed you’ll get when I do. Take that, or fucking eat it.”
Everything about Saint is an illusion, and I should have known better.
He breaks free from my grip as large paws grip my hips, and I feel him hardening between my thighs, the heat soaring from us having nothing in between us.
“Now, that look right there makes me fucking horny.” His dark gaze sets my body alight, though I glower at him, looking back at me like he thinks he’s going to win.
“Don’t try to distract me. I’m not letting this go,” I bite out, but then his palms glide over the curve of my ass, giving each cheek a squeeze, and I fight the hitch in my breathing.
A deep rumble comes from his chest.
“You’re the one grinding your wet pussy against my dick, baby. I’m just lying here, happy to receive it.”
I mutter a curse. This is not how I envisioned this would go.
I want him to surrender to me, to get swept away with what I’m doing to him.
Give in to me.
He’s fighting it.
I need to fight dirtier.
I pick up my movements, my wetness beginning to pool between my thighs, making my rocking slicker. I moan his name, remembering that used to rewire something in him.
His fingers dig into my skin, hard enough to leave bruises.
“You’re fucking soaked. Still dripping with my cum from last night.” His voice has dropped, that huskiness winning against my defences, and the images of our night flash behind my eyes, raising the temperature in the room.
A quick swipe of his hand, and it’s wrapped around my throat before I can even open my eyes again. “Don’t fuck around. Sit on it, Indie.”
My entire body trembles at the command, trying to think how the hell he’s managed to get one up on me so quickly, but I still have time to overpower him.
“Not until you say yes,” I breathe, swirling my hips. He gets rock hard as his cock slides with ease between my slit, and I whimper when the grip tightens around my neck, taking away more of my oxygen.