Chapter 36
Indie
something in the heavens - lewis capaldi
“I told you to rest, boss. This doesn’t look like you’ve been listening,” Kyle says to Saint, who’s sitting on the edge of the medical bed in the Pit, having the wire snipped at his side as he redoes his burst stitches.
I told him to lie to cover it up, but did he listen?
No.
I too have had to endure an earful.
“Another five days, and then you can resume…whatever it was you said you were doing.”
My cheeks flare when Saint winks at me. “Can’t promise that.”
Kyle shakes his head as he leaves the room, and when I turn back to look at Saint, he pats his thigh. I fold my arms and pop my hip. “You heard what he said. You need to rest.”
His voice is like silk gliding along my bare neck, and he cocks his eyebrow. “You can do all the work then.”
I fail spectacularly at keeping my laugh in, walking over as he pulls his hoodie back over his head, and I gently tug down the sides to help. Saint grips me to stand between his thighs, kissing my temple. “Thank you.”
I arch back to stare up at him, wondering what the hell happened to him during his time at the facility. Whatever it was, it’s obviously had the adverse effect they hoped for, because it’s given him a set of manners.
I’ve had please, sorry and thank you within the space of one day. “For what?” I ask, lifting my hands to cup each side of his head, thumb tracing the sides of his freshly trimmed hair.
“You came and got me. It wouldn’t have been easy after what you went through,” he murmurs, and it’s low. Likely because he feels a certain way about me being involved in his rescue.
“Our feelings aren’t one sided, Saint. You burn the world for me; I’ll scorch it and anyone who stands in the way of what’s ours.”
His smirk has me second guessing the doctor’s orders, heat erupting through my body when he speaks. “I’m one lucky bastard, aren’t I?”
“Just another thing you need to remind yourself of when you make rash decisions.”
It’s taken a while for me to come around, but when I put myself in his shoes, I’d undoubtedly do the same for him.
I tried in the woods, was wholeheartedly willing to give myself over, knowing exactly what I’d be subjected to, as long as it kept him out of their hands.
And that is why our love is so fucking maddening, and yet, I wouldn’t change it for the world.
“I’d made a deal…with Louisa,” he says, grinding his jaw.
“I know,” I answer, and his brows dip, so I fill in the gaps, seeing as he’s been out of it most of the time. “She came here after Dawson called her. I found the messages on your phone and knew it was her. She told me…everything.” My voice lowers on the last word.
I’m still conflicted whether my sister is telling the truth. The fact she’s gone into hiding isn’t helping her case. The thing that’s rattling me the most is that she did help us find Saint.
“What did she say?” he asks, pulling me closer and banding his arms around my waist.
My lungs expand painfully, thinking of our last conversation, and I play with the string on Saint’s hoodie.
I tell him about everything she said when I was in Conrad’s basement, filling in the blanks from what we would have talked about if he didn’t offer himself up on a platter.
Saint sits like a stone-carved statue as he lets me speak.
“When she came here, she said that…I was supposed to join.”
Saint shakes his head, muttering a curse.
“What?” I ask.
“The Chief said the exact same thing to me.”
I swallow. I didn’t ask Louisa the ins and outs of it, too caught up in trying to wade through truth and lies. “Even if she did help get you back, my parents and I got caught up in her double life. I can’t ever fully trust her,” I admit harshly. Louisa has built her life on lies.
Snakes might shed their skin, but their origins will never change.
She’ll always have those stains on her soul; they’ll never wipe off because all three of us were innocent.
“Do you want my honest thoughts?” Saint asks, eyes searching my face as he judges my reaction.
I narrow my gaze. “Depends.”
He tightens his hold on me. “I think…Louisa is just as much a victim as everyone else. I don’t fully trust her, but she did trick the Judge into thinking she was on his side. That was fucking risky.”
“So?” I ask hesitantly, trying to figure out where he’s going with it.
“I think that was her olive branch to you.”
I scoff. “More like a twig.” A broken, snapped, and seared-at-the-end twig.
Saint runs his tongue over his teeth. “I’m just telling you what I think, darling. You do with that information as you please.”
My head drops against his chest, and I let my eyes close as the storm brews up in my mind again.
“Theres something else I’ve never told you,” Saint rumbles above me, and my muscles tense. He feels it beneath his hold, reaching up to run his thumb along my jaw. “Before your dad passed away. He…helped us get the people who work for Ultio.”
I hold my breath, waiting for a bombshell to rock my core.
“He didn’t know exactly what my dad was up to all those years ago, just that it wasn’t legal and a group took my mum. He gave a helping hand for Malcolm to build everything we had here. Recommended the people who’d be interested in that kind of work.”
Jesus.
My dad?
If I’d have learned this all those years ago, I’d be horrified.
Now, I see why people are often driven to these motivations. Although, I can’t imagine him doing something like that; he was always so formal. Living by his code. But then if I really think about it, could I blame him?
He had his own wife and daughters. A threat like this so close by, you’d be willing to cheer on anyone willing to take out the vermin plaguing the state. Especially with our knowledge of how the authorities run things around here.
Saint kisses the top of my head, speaking against my hair. “The Judge was the one who killed my mom, and he wanted to know how my dad built Ultio for me. So when he finally got his revenge, that was the last thing he heard before he met his death.”
A sick, wicked smile creeps up my face at that knowledge. The heat of the flames and the amber flickers of light feel like they’re all coming back to me, watching as Saint’s dad blew the facility to the ground as we left.
I thought Malcolm just whispered something to piss him off. Knowing the King to the Omnia’s last thoughts were of both me and my dad? That the two of us helped in our own ways to bring them down?
It heals a little piece of my tattered heart.
“Lord knows the man loves nothing more than spending time down here with his new pets.”
“Have you been trying to hide from me, Indie?”
“Don’t cry yet, Indie. We’re only just getting started.”
“Just relax.”
“Don’t worry, Indie. He actually won’t suffer too long. In fact…”
I jolt upright as my eyes snap open, choking on a breath.
A cold sweat soaks my entire body as my pulse rumbles like a violent wave in my ear. Images all flashing and merging into one taunt behind my eyes.
A sob works its way up my constricted throat, and my cheeks are soaked from the nightmare still chasing me. I blink rapidly into the pitch-black room, a little disorientated on my surroundings.
Fuck.
Am I still there?
Fear grates up my spine at the thought that I’m still in Conrad’s basement.
But the rough, sleep-heavy voice blankets me in the safety of its familiar shadow, anchoring me as his arms tug me towards him lying in bed. “You’re okay, darling.”
Saint pulls me to his chest, banding his arms tightly around me as I fight to control my breathing. He whispers softly against my shoulder, “Just a bad dream,” and peppers feather-like kisses against my skin.
I haven’t had a nightmare in so long, and now I have new variations of torment dogpiling on.
His hand works up and down my bare arm; each stroke of his callous palm tames my wildly beating heart.
Saint leans away from me, flicking on the lamp, and then rolls me over to face him. My tear-soaked eyes blink up at him, feeling the burn working again, and my breath catches in my lungs.
He’s real.
He didn’t die.
They didn’t get me.
“Hey,” he whispers, running his thumb to catch the tear that’s escaped, “you’re okay, Indie.”
I nod frantically, but the string still builds, and my voice sounds like I’ve swallowed sand. “I-I’m. I’m okay-y.”
Saint kisses my forehead, tracing a soft line of his lips to my neck, and then my collarbone. Each feel of his touch chases the storm away, and he retraces the path back and forth until my breathing mellows out.
He holds his kiss on my collar bone, my eyes fluttering closed as he speaks against it. “I promise, no one’s ever going to hurt you again. Not even me.”
I feel his throat work against me, struggling as it flexes. Butterflies brush their wings within my chest as I quietly ask, “Please don’t ever leave me again.”
Saint is my everything, and when he’s not there, the only thing that keeps me grounded is imagining the sound of his voice. It’s no match to having him with me.
Now with what I’ve lived through, I need to have him here. Maybe I have too much reliance on him, and that makes what we have dangerous.
But there’s no safer place on earth for me than being by his side.
He shakes his head slowly, lips grazing my sensitive flesh. “Never again, baby.”
I need him to know just how serious that statement is from me. He promised me forever, then risked it so I could go on. It’s not that I’m ungrateful, far from it. It takes a certain kind of bravery not many people would truly be willing to do.
I just can’t live a life without him. He needs to know, so that he never offers it again.
I gather every bit of bravery in me. “When you left…” I bite my bottom lip, trying to find the words.
Saint leans up on his elbow, staring down at me with the softest gaze, a total contrast to the metal-coloured iris searching my face. Looking like a man who has all the time in the world to hear what I have to say, despite his small amount of rest being disturbed.
“I…I thought you were dead. I thought he killed you.”
His thumb traces along the tattoo on my rib, my breathing ascending, but his touch is soothing, keeping it at bay. “I drank…for the first time in years…I went up to the roof.”
He pauses his movements, forming to stone beside me.
My words leave me in a painful whisper. “I didn’t want to live in a world where you no longer existed.”
“Indie.” His voice breaks.
“I didn’t want you to ever find out. I told them to never mention it to you. But I mean this when I say it, Saint. I can’t…do any of this without you, not anymore. You took my mind and asked me to live for you, and I will. But never make me live without you.”
He grips my arm forcefully, crashing me to his chest as his arms fuse around me. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so, so fucking sorry. I thought I’d have more time before I left. I should have told you.”
My fingertips dig into his back, squeezing my eyes closed so hard, it forces a new river of tears to spill. It wouldn’t have mattered if he did tell me when I found him; I’d have never let him do something so stupid.
When I thought he died, it felt like the sun would never shine again. That my days would be filled with rain, never being able to get through the storm as it washed away everything I knew, everything I’d worked hard at building.
The one missing layer of foundation that would help me hold it all together, crumbling beneath my feet.
I’d always felt hopeful that one day we’d find each other. Those days thinking he was really gone, I wouldn’t have even been able to tell what that once felt like.
The alcohol broke the barrier to darkened territory. I was hopeless, desperate for something to take the pain that was eating me from the inside out. Remembering that feeling when I thought his heart stopped beating is worse than any nightmare my mind can use to haunt me.
Saint rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him as I lay my head on his chest, his hand moving up and down my spine.
When I glance up at him, his eyes reflect from the light as he stares up at the ceiling. This time when he looks back at me, he doesn’t chase that vulnerability away.
I shift up to him, watching the way his throat flexes, and his jaw muscles grind. “I didn’t tell you this to hurt you. I told you so you know the reason why I was so angry at you”—my next confession lowers into a whisper—“and for you to realise just how much I fucking need you.”
“You can’t hurt me, darling. I’m just pissed at myself. I should have known they weren’t going to keep to their word…also didn’t anticipate George fucking shooting me.”
He lifts his hand to my cheek, and I take it so I can hold it in mine, kissing his inked knuckles. “It’s you and me against it all,” I whisper, holding his eyes.
“Always, darling. No more side quests,” he answers, eyes gently creasing as he blesses me with that gorgeous smile.
“No more heroic and idiotic exchanges behind my back.”
He huffs a laugh, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I thought it was quite romantic.”
His soft smile brings my own out, and the heaviness in the room clears. “It was, but I mean it, Sainty.”
“It’s a promise I won’t ever break again, Indie. You have my word, and you have all of me.”
He guides me up his body, brushing my hair away from my face as he kisses me, deepening it with each beat of our hearts against each other’s chest. And then takes us to a place where none of the evil can reach us.