Page 3 of Cruel Saint

Running along the beach with her during a weekend trip to Hilton Head. The overwhelming desire to feel every inch of her as soon as we got back to our hotel room. Her pushing me away, claiming she was too sweaty. Picking her up and carrying her into the shower, where we lost ourselves in each other until our skin was pruned and our hunger satisfied.

But not for long.

It never was with us.

I tried to distract myself from the memories by sipping my lukewarm coffee and admiring the view of the California coastline before it became overrun with tourists. But as she grew near, I found it increasingly difficult to keep my attention focused on anything but her.

So much so that when her gaze locked with mine, I couldn’t find the strength to look away, even though all reason told me that was exactly what I should do.

Especially when she faltered in her steps, her brows furrowed in confusion.

It was the first time I’d stared into her eyes in over five years. I’d watched her from afar, studied her as if it were my job.

In a way, it was.

But I hadn’t allowed myself to get too close for this very reason.

Did she recognize me?

I knew it was a risk, but I convinced myself it was impossible. Even Henry hadn’t recognized me when I showed up on his doorstep after having supposedly died four years prior. It wasn’t until I told him things about myself that no one else could have known that he realized I was telling the truth. In the aftermath, I endured facial reconstruction surgery, as well as a handful of cosmetic surgeries, all with the added benefit of making my appearance bear little resemblance to the man I once was.

The man who the world thought was still dead.

I held my breath as Imogene’s eyes darted over my features, as if trying to place me.

As if wondering if she’d seen a ghost.

A desperate part of me wanted her to recognize me. Wanted her to call out my name. Myrealname, not the persona I’d taken on this past year in order to put my plan into motion.

Her lips parted and she cautiously stepped closer, a question seemingly on the tip of her tongue. But then she stopped, shaking her head and continuing along the beachfront path, heading toward her townhouse so she could get on with her day.

And her life.

Little did she know, her life was about to be shattered into unrecognizable pieces.

And I was holding the hammer.

ChapterTwo

Imogene

The sun warmed my skin as I drove along the La Jolla coast, palm trees gently swaying in the breeze. I’d only been here for a few weeks, but I was already in love with living in Southern California. How could I not be when I was just a couple of blocks from the beach and the weather was always perfect?

At first, I was hesitant about leaving Atlanta. It had been my home all of my life. Hell, I’d even gone to college and graduate school there, too.

But Melanie was right.

It was time for me to leave behind all the bad memories that city held for me and start over somewhere new.

It was a stroke of luck that the women’s professional soccer team in San Diego was interested in having me join their athletic training staff. While I’d had offers from a few other professional teams, soccer had always been my passion. To sweeten the pot, one of my closest friends, Melanie, lived just a few hours north in Santa Monica. As reluctant as I’d been to leave Atlanta, I needed this.

Needed a change of scenery.

Needed somewhere I wasn’t constantly surrounded by reminders ofhim.

Needed a fresh start.

So far, San Diego gave me precisely that.

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