has figured out who rescued his meal ticket. We need to go. Now,” Saint replied succinctly.
I didn’t bother to waste time asking how he could be sure of that. Saint’s dad was a mega asshole of mass proportions and only his son knew the full extent of his psychotic reach. If Saint said it was him then I believed him, no question.
Saint was already at the safe hidden beneath the flagstone, opening it up and pulling out a black bag which I knew was full of cash, two handguns and the last few smoke grenades which Niall had given us.
He looked up to find me and Monroe standing there, unsure what to do with ourselves and snarled like a damn beast.
"Blake, grab the box of vaccinations from the fridge. Nash, put a fucking coat on. We're leaving via the crypt and we won't be coming back, so if there's anything else you need-"
"What about clothes and shit?" Monroe asked as he grabbed a coat from the hook by the door and quickly threw it on.
I already had the silver box which held the stolen vaccines out of the fridge and I grabbed a bottle of water too, pausing for half a second to chug almost the entire thing in hopes of banishing the last effects of that gas from my body.
"My car is already packed with clothes and supplies for all of us," Saint snapped like that was obvious just as I made it back to him. "I also took the liberty of securing Tatum's father's ashes and the letters from her sister down in the crypt."
"What about the necklace she asked me to look after?" Monroe asked, taking a step back, like he was willing to go hunting for it even as we heard a knock at the front door.
Saint pressed a finger to his lips before opening a pocket on the side of the bag of cash he held, revealing the necklace alongside the plaque my mom had given me, Nash's little collection of mementos from his previous life and Kyan's sketchbook. Monroe gaped at him in clear confusion as to how Saint had managed to steal his most prized possessions, but considering our situation he couldn’t really fault his methods. I caught a glimpse of the pen and lighter Saint had stolen from me and Kyan oh so long ago too before he zipped the pocket shut again and threw the bag over his shoulder.
My heart surged with love for my brother as we hounded him towards the crypt on silent feet. For someone who claimed not to understand love or sentiments, he'd instantly figured out the few things that meant the most to the people he cared about and had secured them in preparation of this happening. Deep down, Saint Memphis was as soft as butter and he was starting to let it show.
Saint quickly grabbed his laptop and charger from the desk and shoved it into the bag before beckoning for us to follow him as he hurried across the room and another, more forceful knock came at the door. Clearly those assholes were hoping to ambush us by tricking us into opening the door, but if they seriously thought that we were just a normal bunch of high school kids, they were about to get a rude awakening.
We made it into the crypt, closing the door behind us and hurrying down the stairs before crossing through the gym towards the gate that led into the catacombs.
“We're going to have to run like the demons of hell are up our asses," Saint growled and the note of concern in his voice was more than enough to let me know that the men his father had sent after our girl meant business. We couldn't risk them catching any of us.
"Shit, we're never coming back here, are we?" I breathed, casting a look over my shoulder towards The Temple where five broken souls had built a home together, a pang of sadness in my chest.
"Never," Saint agreed and the raw edge to his tone made my heart ache for the little boy who had always dreamed of having somewhere like this. A home to call his own, something he could rely upon and depend upon.
"Home is where your family are," Monroe said in a rough voice, reaching out to place a hand on Saint's shoulder and surprising me as he clearly understood how hard this must have been for our brother too. "And as soon as we