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Everything is spinning out of control, but in the end, Saint stuck true to his word, confirming what I always knew—he’s a good man. He has the opportunity to save himself and his sister, but he’s chosen me.
Tears fall freely because no one, no one has ever done that for me before.
I throw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. I never want to let go. “Thank you,” I whisper, nestling close and committing our connection to the deepest place in my heart.
I will never forget this…and it’s because of this…that I can’t.
“Go. Please.” He lays frantic kisses all over me, and I close my eyes, relishing in his touch. I don’t know when I will feel this again. Our seconds are precious, and I will savor every one. “I will come find you. I promise.”
But I can’t hide forever.
Pulling from his hold, I place my palm to his cheek. I will never forget him. “I now know why you’re called Saint.”
He blinks once, confused. I soon seal our fate.
“I can’t.”
“You can’t?” he repeats, eyes wide.
“I won’t allow you to sacrifice everything for me. How could I live with myself if I did?”
“Obey me!” he orders, but I’ve made up my mind.
“Forgive me.” Before he has a chance to ask what I’m asking absolution for, I raise my leg and knee him in the balls, catching him unaware. This was the only way I could escape.
He grunts, clutching himself, his face turning red as he slumps forward. He reaches for me with one hand, but I dance out of his range and run like a woman possessed—I run toward what my fate always was.
“Ah???!” His pained cries only have me running faster because I won’t be the cause of so many people’s demise.
I think about Saint’s parents, about Zoey, and about Saint. They now have a chance to live a normal life. I once thought I would never give up everything and sell my soul for another like Saint has done, but as I run toward the shore, I now know that I would.
A white yacht comes into view, preparing me for what I’m about to do. Just as I’m about to emerge from the trees, ready to face my destiny, I’m dragged backward and slammed into something warm, something which sings to my heart. “Don’t be the hero. This is what you’ve always wanted. Your freedom.”
I sag against him, crying the last of my tears. “I found something I want more.”
The air is heavy, our hearts beating to a frantic staccato.
Closing my eyes, I confess something which cements who I am. “…You.” Regardless of his crimes, I want him because he is mine.
A stunned gasp leaves him as his grip slackens, allowing me to take the last step, which, ironically, is the first step toward the end. The sun shines brightly, but it does nothing to thaw the chill to my bones.
I can hear Saint walking behind me, but I don’t have the guts to face him. I pick up Harriet Pot Pie and wait with my head held high.
The huge yacht is one you’d expect to see a Hollywood starlet lazing on in the sun as the paparazzi have a field day taking her picture. It’s definitely a lot nicer than the one I was on a lifetime ago. But I suppose being a Russian mobster does have its perks.
When the door slides open and a man in white chinos and a short-sleeved shirt emerges, I wonder if maybe Saint was wrong because this man doesn’t look like a bad guy. He’s wearing a pair of Ray-Bans, so I can’t see his eyes, but I certainly am not getting the psychopath vibe.
However, when a slender woman with long dirty blonde hair in a red bikini saunters out, her arrogant nose tilted to the heavens, I can’t say the same for her. She makes my skin crawl, and when her gaze narrows on me, I shrink backward.
Who are these people?
Saint answers my question for me.
“Zoey…”
What?
That’sZoey? I don’t know what I was expecting, but I certainly wasn’t expecting her to look like she was moments away from ripping out my eyeballs.
