Chapter 38 Saint
Saint
Breakin' Dishes - Rihanna
I’m very self-aware. I can be a bit of a bastard.
Today, I’m an evil fucking bastard.
The Pit has training sessions that run every single day, mostly because Ultio are made up of ex-military, secret service, and the underworld. You name it, they have the skills.
It’s like enrichment for them; they need to continuously be on top of their game.
Usually, I join them, but I’ve had to postpone my own training to random hours of the fucking night, partly because I’ve had Indie parading about this room like my own personal entertainment.
Four days she’s been at it, and I hate to admit, I’m fucking impressed to the point I’ve had a raging hard-on watching.
She’s been engaging in close combat with the guys, bringing down men twice her size. I know her dad taught her self-defence techniques he learned in the military, but fuck me, she’s an animal.
I have a lot to thank that man for, and now I can see the surface level to the monster that lurks within.
The dark she spoke of glasses over her eyes when she gets on that mat, conjuring it to fuel her drive.
About an hour ago she was paired with Tyler, who’s almost the same height as me, and at least one hundred pounds heavier than her.
Not only did her height benefit her, but she swiped him right on his ass with a blink of an eye, winding him as he sprawled out on his back, trying to figure out what the fuck happened.
Her only fault was she hesitated with her elbow, until Rex pissed himself laughing and told her she could hit him.
Tyler?
He wasn’t fucking expecting her to do it when he managed to flip her, and now he’s got a busted face.
The image cocks a smile on my face.
I hate to admit that I envisioned she was still fragile after everything she’s gone through, despite her words.
A darker mind, that I didn’t doubt.
Fuck, I thought she’d been going through the members with a gun and doing one-hit kills. We never did look into many of their deaths; most of them were just clients. Hadn’t even noticed since none really hit the headlines.
Now I’m seeing that she likes to play with her food.
When she was warming up with some of the guys earlier, she practically danced around them, like she was engaging in foreplay.
An audible groan leaves me, and I reach down to adjust my cargos, the memory of her wicked smirk sending a bolt of electricity straight down my dick.
The word maybe has rolled off my tongue more times than her name these past few days. Each night I slip into her room, and each time she asks the same question.
The sickest part of me knows she waits until I’m in her bed, trying to lure an agreement out of me, usually involving her mouth or pussy.
I’ve been branded all sorts of shit, all for enjoying seeing her get pissed when I don’t give her what she wants.
I’m just enjoying having her in my arms again after all these years, watching that confidence beam through her darkness, and shudder beneath my touch, the goosebumps breaking out all over her skin at my words.
Overpowering her when she thinks she’s got the upper hand is my new favourite.
I don’t want her to go for her own safety. Omnia having their eye on me, and now likely her?
I don’t dare let my mind go towards what they’ll do to her if they catch her.
Though the other part of me sees just how much she’s pleading with me from her soul.
This is her revenge too; she’s here and alive to carry out the vengeance. A lot of the women that have fallen to them aren’t.
My mum is an example; her name relies on me.
Indie and Regina have battled their way back to themselves, moulded themselves into a stronger force, willing to go up against a power that no other living being has dared reckon with.
Especially when you’re their primary target.
Not many people can say they’ve done the shit they have. Even with the limited knowledge on the group they fought against.
Which I also think was fucking ludicrous.
They’ve been lucky so far, or at least until we found them.
Which means Omnia has the means to do so; the luck lies with me finding them first.
Instead of trying to unveil the society to the world, she’s trying to take them down one by one—killing the ones their victims asked for.
She’s displaying control, helping people just like her, who she doesn’t even fucking know.
I don’t want control, not with them; I want to tear them limb from fucking limb.
I want to feel that burn that ignites the blood rushing in my veins as I watch each of them take their last breath, begging for a mercy that will never come.
I haven’t told her this yet, and I plan to, but I’m so fucking proud of her.
It seemed like an unachievable dream of mine for her to even get back to a somewhat normal life, never mind what she’s done on her own.
And just like the devious little shit had spellbound that thought into my head, she lazily glances up over Regina’s shoulder towards the darkened glass I’m behind and fucking winks.
We’re up in the observation room. My dad bought this place sixteen years ago, an old, abandoned factory he’s passed on to me.
With the connection he’s made throughout time, this place is well hidden, far enough deep in the woodland you wouldn’t stumble upon it by accident. It’s a minefield to even trace who really owns it.
Stretching across one million square feet, we’ve kept the rustic worn-down factory still intact, only reinforcing its exterior and restructuring the interior.
This section of the building is for training missions; our veterans assist to simulate real-life scenarios for intercepting and various other shit.
It’s supported when we’ve had clients, because you’re always guaranteed with their shady shit that bullets will fly.
I’ve overseen too many ‘meetings’ gone wrong to bypass this type of luxury.
The underworld is our source of income, and they’ve also been the ones to open the gate for us to Omnia.
The teams are split in two across the far end of the wooden structure, created to mimic clearing rooms and eliminating threats.
It gets torn down and rebuilt each time, because it builds different threats and weaknesses and boosts their skills on dealing with interchanging areas.
I don’t have any military experience. I learn from those around me, and I’ve become creative in my own way on how I take a life.
Indie might be able to handle a gun and bring down people bigger than her, but she’s only ever done it one on one.
Her long-distance shooting could use work. Fuck, that unsteady laser sight in the cabin still makes me shudder, but I don’t need those skills for her.
Though, if she wants to be treated like the rest of my team, she needs to learn to work with one, and more than one person trying to kill her.
A hand grips my shoulder as I face down the balcony, Rex chuckling as he glances down to my viewpoint.
“You letting her go with you?” he asks, and I rake my teeth over my bottom lip.
“Not fucking willingly.”
In an ideal world, he’d be joining me.
Rex is my right-hand man, in and out of Ultio.
His situation is different to Indie and I’s; he’d be a fucking liability around Omnia.
The two of us walking in there would be an immediate red flag. I don’t doubt the attention we’d get if we did, even in disguise.
“Gotta admit, they can handle themselves, you can’t deny that, man. Both of them aren’t the same girls we knew.”
My jaw flexes, wondering if Indie had anything to do with his speech he’s panning off to me right now.
Groaning, I flick a glance at him. “I know.”
He leans against the glass, and I can feel his fucking stare going through me. “So why the fuck are you holding back? I get the whole need to protect her—fuck, you’ve been doing it for years—but that Indie down there? She’s not letting a single person put a hand on her.”
“I fucking know, Rex,” I bite back.
My biggest worry is me not being able to save her again.
If I’d have been minutes earlier that night, been as controlling as I am now, she’d never have had to become who she is, not having to live with what was done to her.
It’s been tormenting my sleep that she gets overpowered, a group swarming her, and I can’t get to her. Hence my reason for having her doing this simulation.
Whilst they have fake weapons, rubber bullets, plastic knifes, I need to know if I can’t get to her, she can fucking get to me and handle her own.
I’d never allow it to get that far, but I’m also realistic. I want her to have every experience possible before she even steps foot in that place.
And when I mentioned I’d been an evil bastard today, it might have slipped from my mouth that I want the other team to treat her as their main target.
The outcome of the game unfolding beneath my feet will determine her accompanying me. Otherwise, she’ll be locked in my room and tied to the fucking bed.
She won’t be sneaking off anywhere.
The thought flashes images in my mind; maybe that’s not—
“Look, she’ll have you with her. Fucking chain her to you, if you need to. There will be two teams on standby to swarm the place if needed, fuck…even I’ll be there.”
“What?” I bark. Rex isn’t stepping foot in that building.
He pushes off the glass, walking towards the screens hanging from the ceiling behind me, and I follow him.
Each of them is linked to a body camera, along with the ones placed inside each of the rooms.
My eyes zone right in on Indie’s. Her feed is deathly still, like she’s made of stone.
“Keep your knickers on, love,” he mocks in an English accent nowhere near mine, making me scoff. “I won’t be with a team. I’ll sit in with Dawson in the van, but anything goes to shit, I won’t hesitate to get you both out.” He levels me with a serious gaze, and I release a breath.
“Not worried about that. More the fact if things don’t go to shit. Are you going to be able to sit on your ass whilst watching?”
It’s his turn to scoff, and he presses his knuckles into my bicep. “I’ll just have to, won’t I? There’s no way in hell I’d risk this.”