Chapter 15
Indie
siren sounds (bonus) - tate mcrae
The entire ride to the motel was silent.
Deathly silent.
The rage that lurked within Saint sucked all the air out within the vehicle, to the point it felt hard to breathe. His knuckles white-gripped the steering wheel, and his face remained motionless whilst he watched the road.
I didn’t dare speak—not that I was scared to, more that he would snap and turn the car back around.
When the car pulls to a stop, I notice the entire parking lot is empty, all bar Saint’s people pulling up in various spaces.
The motel booking was a last-minute decision, but everybody needs to get some rest. Apparently, it wasn’t hard to source something, and going by the looks of its exterior, I can tell why.
It looks like a rundown piece of shit, and it’s in the middle of nowhere. It screams complimentary murder.
Saint pulls the gun from the centre console, tucking it in his waistband as he exits the car. Barry’s words keep playing in my mind. They’ve been watching us. They know where the Pit is.
How much else do they know? Ultio is entirely secret, and I doubt any of his people would be working with the enemy.
And then his threat to me.
I know what he meant: he’s going to kill someone if Saint and Regina don’t turn themselves in.
How can I let the love of my life and my best friend go hand themselves in directly to the Omnia? I’d never see either of them again.
And the manor…they seem to think it was Regina in there with Saint, not me.
Something isn’t adding up, and I can’t wade through the shit in my head to find the answer. The biggest is why Barry doesn’t want me to turn myself in with them both?
I’m the one who killed his buddies.
Saint opens my door, and I click the seatbelt and slide out, scanning across the area. We’re at least three hours out of Harriston. Where we are, I have no idea. But the town appears to be a sleepy one, adding to the silence I’ve endured.
When I meet his gaze, he reads my mind immediately. “They’ll rotate to keep watch.”
Forcing down a swallow, I nod, taking his hand as he leads us inside. I don’t worry about my safety as much when I’m with Saint; I know he’d do everything in his power to protect me.
What I’m worried about is his.
Saint gets us checked in, and we head down a dimly lit corridor. The overhead light does nothing for the fact it summons the same vibes as a horror movie scene: maroon carpets, dark beige tattered walls stretching into the beyond, and an uneasy breeze biting at your ankles.
As soon as we’re in the room, Saint leans against the wall, staring down at me. The bedside lamp casts his face in a mask of shadows, except for his glowing grey irises that pin me in place. “Tell me, word for word, what happened when I left.”
He only gave me an earpiece. I know Rex will have communicated everything Barry said over text, hence why Saint almost blew the doors off the front of their house upon his entry.
But this man seems to thrive in torture.
“Barry thinks it was you and Gina at the manor, that I’m protecting her. I think…” I drag in a breath, having to voice my suspicion. “I think he believes it’s been Regina taking the marks. He said something about Louisa thinking I’m innocent in this.”
I bite my inner cheek, not wanting to voice the next threat.
Saint’s warning glare tells me otherwise, and my jaw flexes before I open my mouth. “He wants you both to hand yourselves over to the manor, or else he has plans.”
If anger could reveal its true form, it would roll off Saint in a slow-moving fog, tinged the brightest colour of red, and have a heat that even hell would envy. “Did he touch you?”
“Saint—”
“Did he put his fucking hands on you, Indie?!” he roars. It feels like the vibrations rattle the plasterboard. The sound waves thunder beneath my feet as it travels like an atomic bomb.
He clamps the control back in place, shoulders battling with the ebb and flow as he focuses on his breathing, fingers interlinking behind his neck.
I’ve seen Saint pissed, but never, ever this mad.
I drag my teeth over my bottom lip, throwing my eyes to the heavens as if they’ll grant me the strength I need to tell him what he already knows.
Saint really is a masochist, in every way, shape and form.
He wants me to voice what my brother-in-law did, just so his fury can have more gasoline thrown onto it. So I keep my voice small, praying he might not hear the answer. “Yes.”
The grey in his eyes disappears as he flutters his lids closed.
I can feel the atmosphere thickening as he fights to battle his inner demons. It’s like witnessing a slow-moving timer, knowing when that dial hits zero, the Omnia’s world will be left as nothing but blood and ash.
When his eyes open, I already know they’ve rolled to the back of his head, consulting with the devil inside him, and he’s come forward to take his place.
How long for? I couldn’t confidently answer that; the look on his face says he might be here to stay.
His voice is low, eerie and incredibly steady compared to a second ago. It doesn’t waver, despite the sparks firing off his entire being. “Get some sleep whilst I figure this out.”
“Will you come to bed?” I ask, hoping that if I can just get him to lie beside me, I can calm his mind. Take everything away like he does for me, reassure him that it meant nothing, I’m not hurt, and I haven’t been shaken up enough to be scared.
The only thing I fear right now is that he and Regina obey their demands.
And the only thing that’s allowing me to keep back just enough from the edge is that Rex and Dawson wouldn’t allow either of them to go.
“I will once I’ve thought some shit through.”
He’s going to stay up all night and plot my brother-in-law’s demise, and he’s going to make sure he can label it glorious.
My plea comes out in the form of his name, and he slowly walks over to me, engulfing me in his arms. Just when I think it’s working in my favour, his hand clutches my nape, and he presses and holds a harsh kiss to the top of my head—a small sign that he’s waging a war in his mind.
Anything I say will fall on unwilling ears. “Just let me think, darling, please.”
My eyes squeeze shut. He’s desperately trying to hold on.
I drag in the volatile air around us. “Don’t think right now, just hold off for a few minutes.”
When I open my eyes, the anger lining his gaze softens ever so slightly. Taking his hand, I walk him over to the bed, pulling him to sit on the edge. I yank my sweater over my head, kicking off my boots and dragging my jeans down my legs.
Saint’s jaw flexes, and he runs his warm hands up my thighs, me taking his hat and tossing it on to the bed. He explores me whilst I drag my fingers through his hair, fingertips digging into his head and running through the edges as he groans.
“You really are my fucking sanctuary, you know that?” he whispers against my stomach, peppering kisses along to my hip bone. I pull the hoodie from him as he raises his arms, working his belt free and sliding his jeans and boxers off.
“Then you should know you can escape to me. Don’t run away from it.”
Saint’s been mine these last couple months. Hell—always. Quieting the storm, just letting me escape our hellbent life, offering me peace that can’t be found in any vice.
Just because he’s strong, doesn’t mean he can’t lean on me when he needs it.
He leans back as I straddle his thighs, sinking down on his hard length, both of us moaning at the fullness as he slides right in. I cup his face, staring down into a view I’ll never tire looking at.
Even when clouded with fury, he has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. The blue is so light, it fades to grey; only if you’re close enough can you see the darkened speckles through them. His long thick lashes frame eyes you wouldn’t expect someone as devilish as him to possess.
I kiss him slowly, grinding my hips to match the pace of our tongues. My hands explore every dip and rise of solid muscle on him, kneading my fingers into his tense shoulders when I roll my hips.
“I love you, Indie. More than anything in the fucking world. I can’t stand the thought of someone hurting you,” he says, breaking our kiss.
My heart shudders at his words. I’ll never get tired of hearing them, gone too long without them.
Saint nuzzles his face in my neck, hands roaming up and down my thighs, making their way to clutch against my bare back.
“I love you more than I’ll ever find the words for,” I whisper, angling my head as he kisses and sucks my neck, shivers glittering down my spine.
I feel the orgasm building like a slow burn, and my hands clench his hair as he grips my ass, forcing my already drawn-out movements deeper. His strangled murmur takes my breath away.
“I miss being like this with you.” His groan is throaty when I rise all the way up, sinking back down. “You’ll always be my calm place when I need it. And that’s what I want our forever to be like.”
Just when I feel the waves of heat, he slams his lips to mine, sealing our promise together, coming undone, and hopefully taming the anger before he makes any life-threatening decisions.
Hours later, we manage to reach the Pit safely. No tails, no running off the road, no one waiting for us at the entrance of the forest.
I couldn’t relax at all in that motel after Saint left for a couple hours. Awareness took hold of me every time he rolled in bed. I even sneakily texted Rex that Saint was still at risk of losing his shit.
Saint couldn’t sleep when he got back, and each time his mind seemed to get the better of him, he’d pace around the room with his hands in his hair, smoking more cigarettes than I’ve ever witnessed.
Rex thankfully warned the guys with us and promised to not encourage anything until we got back here.
That didn’t fill me with confidence. Saint has a fuse that no one truly knows the length of.