Page 54 of Savage Saint
He passes me his phone, and I nearly choke on my laugh as I read the stream of alerts.
ALERT: Suspicious rodent activity detected in sector 4
ALERT: Possible squirrel infiltration near the east perimeter
ALERT: Multiple bushy-tailed operatives gathering acorns—potential ammunition stockpile
"Is this for real?" I look at him, trying to contain my grin.
The corner of his mouth twitches. "Welcome to life with Arrow. Brilliant, but sometimes too clever for their own good."
His phone rings, the sound filling the car through the speakers. Angelo hits accept on the steering wheel.
"I swear, it wasn't supposed to do this." Arrow's frantic voice fills the car.
"Just... fix it," Angelo cuts them off, his voice tight with exasperation.
A new alert pops up:ALERT: Acorn-shaped listening device detected in oak tree. Threat level: Nutty
I lose it completely, doubling over with laughter. The tension from our earlier conversation dissolves as tears spring to my eyes.
Angelo pinches the bridge of his nose. "This is what happens when they mix too much caffeine with not enough sleep," he mutters, but I catch the smile he's trying to hide. "Just turn it off, Arrow. We're home now."
The house stands silent, its glass walls offering no answers.
I step out of the car, my breath steady, measured. Angelo moves beside me, close enough that the heat of his body cutsthrough the night air. Neither of us speaks, but something hums between us, restless. Unresolved.
Inside, the stillness presses in, amplifying every shift, every inhale. Angelo stands by the door, his phone vibrating incessantly in his hand, but he doesn't check it. His tension is electric, radiating off him in waves.
"Why do you insist on keeping me here?" My voice is quiet but firm. "I thought you wanted me gone."
His head tilts slightly, but he doesn't look at me. The pause stretches long enough to make my stomach tighten.
"Things change." The rasp of his voice is almost an admission. Almost.
I step closer. I don't mean to. But my body has already decided, drawn to something I don't have a name for yet.
"What changed?"
His grip tightens around the phone, knuckles paling. I watch the flicker of hesitation in his jaw, the way his fingers twitch at his side. Like he wants to reach for something. Like he wants to reach for me.
"Butterfly..."
The word settles in my bones, deeper than it should. Not a warning. Not a tease. Something heavier. Thick and sweet.
I swallow hard. The space between us is small. Too small. And neither of us moves away.
"What do you want from me, Angelo?"
This time, he turns.
Our gazes collide, the air between us charged, pulsing. He isn't unreadable now. He's undone. Tension ripples beneath his skin, muscles wound tight, breath shallow.
His hand lifts before he seems to realise it, fingertips grazing my arm, the touch barely there, but devastating all the same.
I exhale sharply, my pulse hammering against my ribs. The touch lingers, neither of us willing to break the connection.
"Nothing I should want." His voice is rough, like the truth costs him.
