Page 352 of Vicious Saint
I can see with my own eyes as the floorboards part beneath me, turning what was once a draft into a brutal cold freezing my lungs.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t fucking breathe.
With two hands on the table, I rise slowly out of the seat. “Please leave.”
Archer’s at my side in an instant, panicked as he rubs a hand down my arm. “Shit, Hen. I’m so fucking sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”
I recoil from his touch, then take a step back when Bex reaches for me too. “It’s fine, just go.”
In reality, it’s not fine, because ever since the issues started with my mom and Vic, Archer’s done nothing but side with their decisions on everything.
Questionmineabout everything.
When they wanted to drag me to Washington, he gave me shit about refusing to go. When they first forced me to have a bodyguard, he told me to quit being defiant. Quit snooping. Quit making things harder.
In the most inadvertent way possible, Archer has been suggesting for months that I sit crisscross and do good listening.
Pretty much like he’s done his whole life.
Yes, he loves me, cares about me, has been worried sick about me.
And maybe I should’ve listened to everyone.
But I would never side withanyonebut my best friends.
Or suggest they settle for less than they deserve.
Sinceday oneI deserved to know the truth about what’s going on in this family. As did Saint and Theory.
“Please, let me explain. I don’t wanna leave you this upset,” Archer insists, and when his hand rubs my arm again it stings like broken glass. “I’ve just been worried sick about you. This whole situation is fucked up, Hen. Not only for you, trust me. You’re my best friend, I love you, all I want is for you to be okay.”
I want to say to Archer I love him back.
That he’s already forgiven.
But the emptiness’ mouth is too wide, fangs are too sharp, and the only person able to stop it from swallowing me whole is too far away to save me.
I don’t need Archer’s apology, I need my anchor.
I need Saint.
46
Hendrix
I’ve always wondered what would happen if humans were met at a crossroads. One to an endless road to happiness, the other an endless ladder to power.
How much would we, as a species fundamentally designed to connect, be willing to sacrifice for a chance to be on top?
Would we give up love for money? Friendship for prestige? Simplicity for reputation?
Would we even know what we’d be missing?
I learned the hard way recently that power isn’t strength, it’s a form of addiction.
The higher you are, the deadlier the fall.
