Page 25 of Secrets Unveiled

“Sage, stay awake. Stay with me. I got you.” Then everything fades away.

Sage, stay awake. Stay with me. I got you.

It’s funny how one can go months or even years without having a panic attack, and then out of nowhere, the intense fear comes barreling in so fast there’s nothing you can do but succumb to the attack. It’s exhausting and slightly painful due to the tension held in every muscle of your body.

“She hasn’t had one in a while. What happened in there that caused it?” Ophelia sounds like she’s a million miles away, her voice so small, but I can hear the concern in her tone.

“That fucker painted a picture of her from the club, her hands and scars on display for all to see. Her biggest insecurity. I wish she could see how her scars represent just how strong she truly is.” Saint sounds far away too, but with each word he speaks, his words become louder and louder.

“She imagines she’s back in her old house the day it caught on fire. It’s horrible.” A soft hand threads through my hair, relieving the pressure that’s squeezing my brain. “I shouldn’t have left her side to go get food. I didn’t know about the painting.” Ophelia’s words are full of guilt.

“Please don’t think that way,” I whisper to my best friend. The harsh lights of the evening sky make it hard for me to open my eyes. “Where are we?” I ask.

“In the back of Saint’s Tahoe. You passed out while he was carrying you out here.” I finally manage to crack open my eyes and see a worried Ophelia cradling my head as she peers down at me. I go to sit up, but another arm holds me down.

“Wait, wait, wait. Just stay there for a minute until you fully wake.” Saint’s arm is resting over my waist, preventing me from sitting up. When my eyes finally adjust to the light, I see Saint sitting beside me, my legs draped over his thighs while my head and shoulders rest on Ophelia’s lap. Her fingers are still brushing through my hair in the most soothing way.

“You alright, witch stick? You scared the shit out of me.” Owen’s voice has me smiling.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” I go to sit up again and dangle my legs out of the back of the Tahoe while I brush my hands through my hair.

“What an embarrassing way to end the evening, am I right?” I try to laugh it off, but the embarrassment is there in my tone.

“Don’t be embarrassed, hun. If anything, I should be. Look at my dress.” She gestures to her gorgeous dress that now has a huge wine stain, starting at her breast and extending down toher abdomen. “I tripped over my damn heels coming to find you and spilled red wine like a fool. I was ready to disappear at that moment.” She laughs it off, and I join in laughing at how pathetic the pair of us are. Two peas in a pod.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Saint’s tone is full of worry. Putting my hand on his thigh, I reassure him I will survive and jump out of his Tahoe.

“Right, where did we park again, O?” I ask, looking around to see where the hell we are.

“Nah, I think you need to ride with me. I don’t want you passing out behind the wheel. Owen will drive your car back behind us.” Saint steps out of the back, adjusting his club vest before straightening to his full height in front of me.

“Ophelia, can drive my car back.” He gives her a once over, his eyebrow raising in doubt.

“Yeah, I don’t think she should drive either. Her dress clearly gives her away.” Saint says to me as Owen lets out a soft chuckle behind me.

“Hey, I am right here, you know.” I smile at my best friend. She really does look adorably ridiculous with her huge, and I mean huge, wine stain. Her dress is surely ruined. Too bad it’s a gorgeous dress. We share a small laugh before agreeing with the guys.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll go with Owen and meet you back home.” Before she follows Owen back to my car, she steps up close to me, giving me a hug and whispering in my ear, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise. I probably should apologize to Dante,” I whisper to her, not wanting the others to hear me.

“No need. I talked to him and explained the bare minimum. He said he’ll contact you later.” I give her a slight nod. Ophelia gives me a kiss on the cheek before stepping back and following close behind Owen. I watch as the pair makes their way to my car before turning back to Saint.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to do that.”

“Do what? Not let you pass out in the middle of the showroom floor so strangers could hover over you, not knowing what to do?” I don’t know how to respond; I just shrug my shoulders before making my way to the passenger side of his Tahoe. Reaching for the handle, I go to pull the door open, but a hand slams it shut over my head. Turning, I’m met with silvery eyes, pinning my back to the Tahoe. Anger or fear—something—plays across his face as he cages me in with his large arms. Our noses practically touch as he steps into me. We’re so close.

“He’s not allowed to touch you like that ever again, Sage. Do you understand me?” Who was he talking about? What was he talking about? As if he can read my internal thoughts. he continues, “Dante, or any man, for that matter, is not allowed to touch you.” I inhale a deep breath, his clean citrus bodywash filling my nose.

“You can’t dictate who I’m allowed to be with, Saint. What, am I not allowed to date now?” I am playing with fire. I know that. His jaw ticks at my defiance, but what does he expect? Am I supposed to be celibate for the rest of my life just because we had sex once? We aren’t together, so what is it to him who I date?

“I can do whatever the hell I want, especially when it comes to keeping you safe. Dante is not safe. Now, get in the car.” Dropping his hands from beside me, he opens the car door for me and gestures for me to get in. I’m momentarily stunned, but I get in and grab the door handle, slamming it shut. A second later, Saint gets in the driver's seat, turning the key and starting up the Tahoe before he rips out of the parking lot with so many unspoken words rippling between us.

We sit in uncomfortable silence all the way home. We had sex, yes. Does that change anything between us? No. It can’t. It was a mistake that felt amazing in the moment, but it can’t be any more than just that: a momentary lapse in judgment. What did he think it would turn into? Friends with benefits? A full-blown relationship? We both know that is off the table. Saxon would kill us.

It’s not until we pull into the driveway that I finally break the silence.

“Saint, I don’t know what you think has changed between us, but we need to go back to how we were.” Staring at the side of his profile, I watch as his jaw tenses, the muscles protruding from his sharp jawline, and I can’t help the pulse between my legs.

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