Page 85 of Seal My Fate
With a fierce nod, she takes a can in each hand, and Saint and I do, too. He leads us through the vast house, turning on gas burners and emptying flammable liquid at every turn. We smash the liquor collection in the grand library; booze spilling on the antique rugs and tossing matches down to light the flames. Soon, there are fires burning in every room, catching blaze on the priceless curtains and roaring up the wood-paneled walls.
Smoke billows, thick from the windows, as we emerge back outside. “Time to go,” Saint says, as alarms start to wail. But I shake him off.
“Not yet. Wren, start the car, I’ll be right back!”
I race back towards the cellar stairs, and of course, Saint follows. “Where the hell are you going?” he yells, as I skitter down the staircase and into the gloom.
“You’ll see,” I say breathlessly, racing back to the control room, which is in disarray after our desperate struggle with Hugh. I grab the CDs that are scattered around the room. “We need to take these,” I tell Saint, who’s appeared in the doorway. He looks around, quickly clocking the scene.
“Here.” He scoops up a wastepaper basket from by the desk and starts throwing the cases inside. I make sure we grab every single one, before we race back upstairs again.
Wren is waiting out front, behind the wheel of one of the estate Land Rovers. “Get in!” she calls. The fire alarms from the house are wailing louder, in every room, and smoke is pouring thick from the windows; the grand house burning out of control.
It’s an inferno.
We pile into the car, and Wren hits the gas, speeding down the drive. I cling on to Saint, his arms around me like he never wants to let go. Safe, at last.
Where I belong.
The flames burn higher. We watch Ashford Manor recede in the rearview mirror, until trees block our view, and the smoke is lost to the darkness, and we speed on, into the night.
Chapter22
Tessa
We crash as soon as we get back to Saint’s place in the city, but when I wake the next morning, everything aches.
I sit up, wincing. The sun is high outside the windows, so I must have slept late. I take a deep breath and look around the familiar room, filled with gratitude that I’m snuggled in soft linens, and not trapped in a cold, dusty cell—or worse.
I almost can’t believe everything that’s happened. My blood spikes with adrenaline as the memories from last night flood back to me, and I focus on my breathing to block it all out.
It’s over,I repeat to myself.You’re safe.
Slowly, my heartbeat slows, but there’s one image that lingers, one I know that I won’t be able to shake in a hurry:
Hugh’s body slumped, bloody on the garage floor, and Wren’s calm expression, standing over him.
Justice.
“Here you are: coffee, toast, and freshly-squeezed juice.”
I sit up in bed, yawning, as Saint brings in a tray. His hair is wet and rumpled from the shower, and he’s wearing a soft cotton tee and sweatpants. “Wait, what are you doing?” I protest, realizing. “You’re the one who’s injured!”
“A couple of stiches,” he shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?” he asks, setting the tray down, and sitting beside me on the bed. He cups my cheek tenderly. “Still shaken up?”
“No,” I reply immediately. He gives me a dubious look. “OK,” I admit, reluctant, “I’m pretty sore.”
I have marks all over my body from my desperate struggles with Hugh, but the worst of them is the ugly purple bruise spreading on my stomach. I touch it gingerly, wincing at the ache. “You need an ice pack for that,” Saint says, his jaw tightening with protective anger. He gets up to go, but I catch his hand, and hold it tightly.
“Stay a minute?” I ask, full of emotion. I want to hold onto him, to reassure myself that he’s safe, and here with me.
Watching him take that bullet for me… It made me never want to let go.
Saint immediately sits back down, and holds me gently, so he doesn’t hurt my bruises. “How’s Wren?” I ask, taking a welcome sip of coffee.
“Still sleeping,” he replies. “I knocked to take her breakfast order, but I think she’s still out cold.”
“Good.” I exhale. “She needs the rest.”