Luke Henry is cursed to live for (aneternity) wrote in rooms,
Re: Queens: Wren & Saint.
The threat in Wren's voice didn't bother him. Maybe it would have, once, maybe he would have worried about her willingness to kill to protect him, but not anymore. Why would it? He would kill for her, too. It went both ways. Saint needed to know that, while Luke didn't want to hurt him, crossing them was a very, very bad idea. He stared at the other man, gaze unblinking and steady. Waiting. Waiting.
When he did speak, asking who he would tell, Luke didn't bother dignifying the question with a response; there were a lot of people Saint could tell. The police. Friends. A newspaper looking for a story. He didn't know the man well enough to trust him and so, he didn't. He was deceptively calm as he awaited the words he was looking for, and Saint's agreement not to tell was met with an incline of his head. He didn't trust him, no, but he was willing to give him a chance.
One chance.
"Good." Quiet. He would know if Saint told, it was unspoken in his voice, in his eyes, a reminder, and Luke regarded him for a few seconds longer before his attention went elsewhere. The little boy with his hand in Saint's, the other children unwinding limbs to follow, they were no longer his immediate concern now that they were safe. Now it was time to focus on what came next, on getting rid of evidence... and deciding what, exactly, was to be done with the men left behind.
He didn't look back at Saint, didn't watch him or the children leave.