Page 369 of Vicious Saint
He’s not, and I couldn’t give a shit less than when I didn’t bother asking where he was going right before he left the mansion. Which was rightafterhe gave his final warning for us to stay out of his way with Hendrix and the Ivanovs.
Fucker’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’ll trust him when it comes to Hendrix.
My skin crawls with the need to get to her as I put my Rover in park and don’t bother killing the ignition before taking off inside the female dorms.
I’m fine.
It’s fine.
Everything will befucking fineonce I get her in my arms again.
Hendrix will forgive me.
She’ll understand the pressure I was under and how I, like her nag of a mother, was just trying to make sure she didn’t get hurt.
If not that, then at least how much I love her and how long I’m willing to wait until she forgives me.
“Saint! The elevator!” my father yells from behind me as it dings open, but I have too much pent up frustration that needs to be released before I make any attempts to get my girl back.
So…stairs it is…two at a time.
By the fifth floor I’m already regretting the decision to take the long way, not only because of how out of breath I am from lack of exercise for months, but because I just gave those three assholes the chance to get to Hendrix first.
Luckily for me, when I reach the eighth floor, I find them loitering in front of Hendrix’s room with the door still shut.
I’m relieved at first, but the second I notice June and her sister crowding a body on the floor, every electrical current inside me goes haywire, and the world around me turns to hazy red.
When I rush over to see who it is, an amused breath pushes its way through my chest.
“What the hell happened?!” June shrieks down at an unconscious Annalie’s bloody mouth.
“If I had to guess…” Poppy tilts her head. “Hendrix’s fist.”
The two of them chuckle, and I may or may not be considering it when my dad interjects with his no nonsense tone, hands tapping against the override screen on the wall.
“What do you say we save the fist jokes for when there aren’t multiple of them slamming against the door? Yeah?”
That’s when I hear it. The faintest slamming metal coming from behind the wooden door to Hendrix’s room. I’m sure there’d be yelling, too, if the room wasn’t practically soundproof.
Which makes zero sense…because a person who wants alone time doesnottry this hard to get someone’s attention.
Shit. Just. Got. Fucked.
And someone’s about to die because of it.
Especially when a small red, white, and blue rectangular something catches my eye on the floor.
My eyes narrow, and when I close in on the object I see it’s a phone case. Specifically…a Captain America one.
Thrumming builds inside my ears, my skin vibrates, and my heart pounds furiously in its cage as I bend down to pick it up,
“All done!” my father announces, right before there’s the sound of metal sliding behind the wall.
My body moves on its own to push past all three of them and open the door. Where I find Archer and Bex in hysterics, and no sign of, yeah, you fucking guessed it.
My little Jimi Hendrix.
“What the fuck happened?!” I barge into the room, looking around like it’s a crime scene.
