Page 254 of Vicious Saint
He was an itch I couldn’t scratch.
A thorn in my side I couldn’t get out.
A petty jerk I couldn’t escape.
But watching him in this moment, being as fierce with his vulnerability as he’s been with his madness, has my stubborn heart beating a brand new rhythm.
One that no longer resents Saint for showing me all sides of his fucked up coins, but appreciates that most of them were used to protect me, not hurt me. Something I couldn’t see then but feel in my bones now.
Which has me thinking back on the past, wondering:
Couldn’t see, or wouldn’t see?
The truth in the answer comes in the form of a moot point.
Because regardless of what I felt then, the idea of coming, going, or being anywhere without Saint is no longer one I want to entertain.
So in a way, I guess that makes me his already.
33
Saint
If what happened earlier proves anything other than me being a stubborn asshole for not comingsemiclean to Hendrix sooner, it’s that I’m balls-to-the-fucking-wall in love with her.
There. I said it.
Saint Matthias Lavell, with all his fucked up parts, managed to fall in love with a spitfire pain-in-the-ass like Hendrix Zinnia Montgomery.
I’ve experienced a version of it enough throughout my life with my sister and dad to know the signs. Devotion. Loyalty. The willingness to kill or lay down your life to protect. My love for them was born on instinct, surviving eighteen years in waves of deadly explosions.
But my love for Hendrix? It crept up on me.
Became an instinct I didn’t know I was fighting until I had to choose between all of them.
Granted, I saw Theory escaping with Levi and knew then what I know now about the lengths he’ll go to keep her safe for me.It’s logical but doesn’t make the guilt of putting my little sister second an easier pill to swallow.
Accepting what it means? Now that adds a sip of very unexpectedly fresh water. All that’s left for me to do is wait to see if Hendrix is drinking out of the same glass.
If she’s willing to accept me for me and all the fucked up parts I’ve been trying harder now more than ever to fix. Grant me what I know deep down I wanted from the moment she marched into that elevator and refused my attention.
Not only did Hendrix earn my attention anyway, she kept it, and after what she did for Theory and me? She’ll have all of it, and the rest of me, moving forward.
She just needs to say the words.
“Under one condition.” Hendrix raises her chin.
Ultimatum to my ultimatum…I’d expect nothing less.
“Hit me.”
“No more secrets. No more lies.”
On the outside, I remain cool as the other side of Egyptian cotton. But on the inside? Guilt is clawing holes through every one of my muscles.
Honesty. A reasonable request I can fulfill ninety-seven percent of. But that motherfucking three percent? Got its claws in me just as deep.
Doesn’t matter—because there’s no chance I’m losing this girl when I’m this close to having her.
