Page 8 of Tainted Saints

Shaking my head at myself, I get to business, hissing when I make contact with the cold metal.

“You okay?” Blaine asks over his shoulder.

“Fine!” I rush out, not wanting him to turn around, even if my bladder is refusing to comply. Taking a deep inhale, I close my eyes, recalling the song by Freya Ridings that I’m currently obsessed with; “Elephant.”

I start off quietly, but soon get lost in the song, and it’s enough of a distraction to enable me to pee, even knowing that I’m surrounded by strangers. I continue to sing as I open my eyes and lock gazes with a slack-jawed Blaine. My heart thuds in my chest, my cheeks flaming as I hold his stare and I sing the final few notes, a mixture of nerves and pride leaving butterflies swarming in my stomach.

A moment of silence follows and is broken by loud applause and whistles as the other inmates cheer, but all my focus is on Blaine and the look of wonder on his stunning features.

“Not bad for a cat wailing, huh?” I ask, standing and quickly pulling my knickers back up. Thank goodness I didn’t put tights on and opted for my usual stockings and suspender belt. It’s so much more comfortable in my opinion.

“Shit,mi tesoro. That was…” he trails off, and I rinse my hands in the small sink, drying them on my skirt. “That was incredible.”

I feel my cheeks burn just as my chest tightens and a smile threatens to split my face in half. “Thank you, Blaine. Do you—”

I’m cut off when the main door opens and in walks two new officers, both men. One is young, maybe a couple of years older than me, and has dark skin, the sepia of the soil back in our gardens at the country house. The other is older with salt and pepper hair and skin weathered and tanned like he’s spent a lot of time in the sun.

“Buckingham and Garcia, you are free to go,” the older officer states, going to unlock Blaine’s cell as the younger officer comes to unlock mine. “Your people are here to collect you.”

My heart thuds for an entirely different reason as I step towards the open door. Why does it feel like I’m being led to the gallows instead of my freedom?

“Come,mi princesa linda,” Blaine whispers gently from outside his cell, holding his hand out, and tears threaten to fall once again at his kindness. Feeling a little braver now that I know he’ll be beside me, I slip my hand into his warm one, his large fingers closing around mine and the shock of electricity has those butterflies doing a fucking jig inside me.

The officers don’t say anything, the older one just raising an eyebrow, then turning and heading back towards the door, the younger guy at our backs. Blaine keeps a tight grip as we leave the cells and walk back down the corridor. He goes first, like he’s placing himself in front of me for protection, never letting go of my hand, the warmth of his palm lending me a confidence that I desperately need if I’m about to face the Ambassador.

All too soon we’re back in reception, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I only see Bobby waiting for me, his sandy complexion not dissimilar to Blaine’s, although he’s older than Blaine, probably in his forties.

“Miss Aspen,” he breathes out, rushing over but pulling up short when Blaine steps in front of me, his grip on my hand tightening.

“It’s okay, Blaine,” I whisper at his back, placing my hand on his T-shirt. His back muscles tense and flex beneath my touch, the heat of his skin underneath the fabric like a furnace. God, the urge to lean into him, to breathe him in fully is almost overwhelming. “That’s my driver.”

Blaine releases a low growl, his hand still holding mine as he steps to the side. Bobby looks between Blaine and I, rapidly blinking and frowning.

“Your parents have been so worried, Miss Aspen. When we got the call…” His tone is uncertain, and I gulp, unable to contain the trembling that seems to have overtaken my body. My view of Bobby is once again blocked as Blaine steps in front of me, his back to my driver.

Tilting my head, I look up into brown eyes full of concern, his brows dipped low, and the scar across his right eye socket crinkling. His palm comes up, cupping my face, and all the breath leaves my lungs, tears springing into my eyes at the tender gesture. His other hand hasn’t left mine, and he squeezes, not saying a damn thing but letting me know that he’s worried, that he doesn’t want to leave me. I know that I should be freaked out, we’ve only just met for fuck’s sake, but I’m not. Instead, I just sink into his touch, letting the comfort wash over me in a wave.

“I’ll be fine, Blaine,” I tell him, my cracked tone making a lie of my words, and his brows dip even lower.

“Miss Aspen? Are you alright?” I hear Bobby call from somewhere behind Blaine, but I can’t escape Blaine’s intense stare or the way he holds me as if I'm something precious that needs to be protected and cherished.

I don’t think, just let my body do all the talking like his, and my hand lands on his hard pec as I go up on my tiptoes and press my lips against his. The relief I feel at the contact almost has my knees buckling, and it’s like everything in the world finally makes sense. Blaine is frozen, but at the small whimper I make, he uses his grip on my face to pull me closer, kissing me back as if I’m the air that he never knew he needed to breathe.

Kissing Blaine is like walking into a room and knowing that you’re finally safe. That none of the monsters in the dark can reach you, and I taste salt as my tears run down my cheeks. It’s a bittersweet kiss, and a whine escapes my chest knowing that it can’t last and soon I will be without him. Without my new protector. My heart breaks as I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me, sucking my lower lip so hard that the scab I caused last night reopens and copper tinges our kiss.

A deep, male growl thunders from his chest and he laps at my blood, making my knees weak at the thought of how some part of me is inside him now, becoming a part of him. My hand clings to his T-shirt, my other gripping his between us so tightly that it’s a wonder my nails haven’t left bloody trails in his skin.

It’s the hardest thing in the world to let go, and even though my mind knows that this is crazy, that I barely know the man, my body tells me that we’ve known him for a lifetime and more. That we belong with Blaine Garcia.

“Blaine…” I breathe out against his lips, my eyes closed as if that will help me stay with him longer. “I should go.”

A growl vibrates against my lips, making my skin shiver and tingle. “I know,mi tesoro, but I don’t want you to.”

“Me neither,” I choke out quietly, aware of the soft conversation behind Blaine. He sighs, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Miss Buckingham?” Bobby enquires, and I briefly squeeze my eyelids tight, taking a deep inhale of Blaine’s scent, knowing that once I step away, I’ll never feel as safe as I do right now.

“I’m coming, Bobby,” I say softly, opening my eyes and taking a step back, feeling like I'm leaving my fucking soul behind.

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