Page 318 of Vicious Saint
“Everybody get out,” I mumble as the voices of our friends spin around the room like a tornado, making me too dizzy to think clearly on how to keep it together. But nobody hears me.
Saint’s got both hands rubbing his thighs, and I know it’s only a matter of seconds before he can no longer fight back tears.
Which is the exact spark I need to sober up and scream, “Everybody get out! Now!”
Leviathan and Archer know better than to intervene, so they leave the room without question. Same goes for Carlo right after he barges in.
“W-what the hell is going on?!” Theory panics at Saint’s side, hand barely on his shoulder before he shrugs her away. “Hendrix!” She glares at me. “What is h-happening?”
“I need you to go, Theory!” I demand, voice hoarse and cheeks soaked with tears of my own. “Please, just let me handle it.”
“I c-can’t leave Saint like this…you k-know that.”
“Yes. You can and youhaveto. Please trust me.”
She shakes her head as I grip her arms. “I have Saint, okay? I fucking promise I do but you need to go.”
“Hendrix…”
“Theory…” I whisper into her ear, watching Saint from my peripheral tug at the roots of his hair. “I know.”
“You know w-what?”
I close my eyes, wishing I didn’t believe the words I’m about to say. “That you’re the little girl he almost killed.”
41
Saint
Everyone has a core memory they’d give their life to fucking forget.
A mistake they wish they could take back.
A moment in their life where they were convinced the world would be better off if they never existed.
Well, mine was made at nine years old…
“Quit being such a cry baby,” I groan, cleaning up the Connect 4 game chips off the floor and putting them back in the box.
“You cheated!” Theory crosses her arms.
Only because I let her beat me every time up until now.
“Keep up with your fit, baby girl, and you won’t get ice cream.”
Something I promised her if she was a good sport.
“I wanna play another round.”
Closing up the box, I tell her, “Can’t. I told you I need to shower. Levi and Riggs are coming over to play Xbox.”
“Another round!” she whines, stomping her feet on the floor.
Theory isn’t usually a brat like this, but when she is, she makes sure to give it her all until I cave.
“Quit it!” I order when she flips the game box over, spilling the pieces on the floor. “And now you can clean this up.”
“No.”
