Renegade Hearts (Rebels of Sandland 1) - Page 49

“Where are we?”

“Sandland Asylum,” he said, staring out of the window at the grey monstrosity.

The pillars were worn and crumbling, the windows mostly broken, and the brickwork was flaking away. It was an eyesore, but it did have a gothic eeriness about it which kind of drew you in. Like the stone walls held years of silent screams and tortured tales. As haunting as it looked from the outside, I was intrigued to find out more.

“Another party venue?” I asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know. Finn has his heart set on the old waterworks, but this place? There’s something about it.” He opened his door then held his hand out to take mine. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

I took his hand as I scrambled across the seats to get out. Then he led me over the uneven ground and held the broken fencing open, so I could walk through.

“Your handiwork?” I asked, eyeing the vandalised metal fence.

“I’m not saying anything.” He grinned back, and pulled my arm to lead me to the entrance.

The padlock keeping the front doors closed was hanging off, and he lifted it out of its holder and pushed the doors open. I heard the flap of birds’ wings as we forced our way through the gap in the entrance. This place was so old even the doors had given up, only opening a few inches before the rusty hinges groaned and attempted t

o struggle back into place.

Ryan didn’t let my hand go and we both stood in the massive foyer, looking around us at the crumbling walls and vast ceiling, that in its day must’ve looked stunning, but now the glass covering it was broken, discoloured and plastered in bird shit.

“It’s just through here.” Ryan pointed down the dark hallway that looked like something from an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Well, we did have the birds, I’d probably get vertigo if I stayed in here for any length of time, and I just prayed we didn’t encounter any psychos in this asylum.

We picked our way through the rubble and down the murky corridor that had numerous doors leading off it, probably for the wards they used to use here. None of the doors were open though. Had Ryan done that? Closed them so I wouldn’t have to see the metal frames of the beds or think about the horrors that could’ve happened here?

When we got to the end, we stepped down into a narrower walkway, where we both had to duck our heads to avoid the dust and low lying cobwebs. From Alfred Hitchcock to Indiana Jones in just a few short steps.

Once we got to the end, Ryan pushed open a little wooden door and we both walked inside. The setting sun was bathing this room in a glow that belied its harsh, sinister neighbouring rooms, and the stained glass windows that framed three of the four walls here made the dusty floor light up in a rainbow of colours. The glass in every window was still intact, unlike the exterior of the building, and a stone altar stood regally at the end of the room.

“This is the asylum chapel,” Ryan said on a whisper as if he didn’t want to disturb the serenity of the room and its sacred aura.

“It’s beautiful,” I replied, and it was. Sure, there was paint peeling off the walls, and in winter it’d be freezing cold. But today, with the sun’s rays going down at just the right angle to bathe this place in a kaleidoscope of wonder, I’d have described it as beautifully distressed. Perfectly imperfect.

“I found this place a few days ago when I was scoping out venues. I thought it’d be a good fit for our next event. But when I saw this chapel, something stopped me. I didn’t want to share this with anyone else. I definitely didn’t want to use it for Brandon’s fights or have Finn put his mark on it. I wanted to keep it for myself.” He turned to me and smiled. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Then maybe it can be our place?”

I stilled at his words. The idea of a place that was ours, just for us, made me feel special. Like we were special. He pulled me closer to him and wrapped his arms around my waist. I placed my hands on his chest, but not because I was going to push him away. I wanted to feel his heart beating. I wanted to know that I got to him like he got to me. He lent his head down and brushed his lips against mine so gently I froze, scared to move in case I missed something.

“Is this okay?” he whispered as his breath mingled with mine.

I gave a slight nod, wanting to keep my lips as close to his as I could, and then he tilted his head and kissed me. Our second kiss, and this time there would be no dad to interrupt us. We had all the time in the world. He tasted like mint gum and every naughty, dirty thought I’d ever had. I wanted to drown in him and never come up for air.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and he bent down and then picked me up, deepening the kiss as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I felt wanton, free, and I didn’t care. All that mattered was this moment, being in this moment, with him. I’d thought the room was bathed in colour, but he just doused my whole soul in a vibrance that no colour could match. He was the spark that set my heart, soul, body and mind on fire.

He walked us backward until I felt my ass bump against something solid and cold. The altar. I sat on it, but kept my legs clamped around him. I didn’t want to let him go, ever. Our tongues explored, our lips entwined; this was a dance that I never wanted to end. The feel of his tongue sliding over mine made me hungry for more. The way it curled and teased me, tasting so fucking good. My heart ached for him, my body yearned for him, and in this moment, I wanted it all with him. He made time stand still and I loved it.

He ran his hands from my waist to my ass, squeezing and groaning into my mouth. Feeling desperate for more, I ran my fingers through the softness of his hair and then clung to him, like I’d die if he tried to break away. He was my air, my water, and everything I never knew I needed.

After today, I knew I’d never survive without this.

He pulled away first, but kept his forehead pressed against mine as he panted breathlessly. His eyes were closed, and I watched as he slowly opened them, showing me the depth of emotion that he felt and couldn’t hide anymore. I didn’t want him to. I’d fought against my feelings long enough. I couldn’t do it anymore.

“Jesus,” he said as he held my face in both of his hands. “I need to slow this down.”

Instantly, my heart hit the floor so hard I felt the thump in my gut.

Tags: Nikki J. Summers Rebels of Sandland Romance
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