Page 9 of Final Vendetta

But now that I thought about it, I knew the truth. It wasn’t just revenge that kept me going. It was Imogene. I planned to do everything in my power to prove to her I was no longer that person.

“No more lies. No more revenge.” I swallowed hard. “No more Gideon Saint.”

Chapter Five

Gideon

The hallway outside Imogene’s room was a little brighter than the night before, yet the guilt hadn’t lessened. I’d barely slept, but it didn’t matter. Imogene was stable, recovering. That was the only important thing right now.

When I walked into the waiting area, Henry was still there, sitting in a chair with his legs stretched out in front of him and arms folded, his eyes closed. Despite all the times I told him he didn’t need to stay, he refused to leave, staying not just for Imogene, but also for me.

He truly was a good friend.

When I finally escaped the hell I’d been trapped in, he was the first person who came to mind. He was the one person I knew who would believe me. Who would help.

And over the past year, that was precisely what he did.

He may have occasionally questioned whether this was the right path, but I knew it came from a place of love. After all, if anyone would understand my need to even the score, it was Henry Fontaine.

But that was over now.

As I approached him, he blinked his eyes open and straightened.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I told him.

He waved off my apology. “How’s she doing?”

I lowered myself into the chair beside him. “Still sleeping.” I wished I had more news, but there hadn’t been any changes over the past several hours.

I shifted my gaze toward the windows that overlooked the busy sidewalks three stories below. Reporters swarmed like vultures, each one hoping to catch a sound bite about the high-speed chase that resulted in a woman nearly losing her life. They didn’t care about the actual human cost. They just wanted a sensational story to sell.

“Any news on Turner?” I asked, shifting my gaze toward Henry. I’d purposefully avoided the news all day, going so far as turning off my phone.

Anyone who needed to get in touch with me knew where I was.

He leaned closer. “The doctors don’t expect him to wake up. Apparently, he’s officially brain dead. He’s being kept alive by machines for the time being until his wife can get here and make a decision.”

“I see.” I nodded as I processed this news.

After the role James Turner played in what happened to me as well as Jonah Pruitt, I should have been thrilled by the news that he was essentially a vegetable. It was the same situation Jonah had been in after James paid several inmates to silence him. James Turner would never leave this hospital alive. It was exactly what I wanted for him.

But any sense of vindication or poetic justice came with a sour taste in my mouth. The satisfaction I once thought would come with his demise was hollow. Especially now that I realized the true price of my revenge.

“And Liam?” I asked after a beat, trying to keep my voice even.

Henry blew out a long breath, running a hand over his face. “No one knows where he is. Which doesn’t look good, considering he already had heat on him from the body unexpectedly found on his boat.” He gave me a knowing look.

“Couple that with the fact that he’s been withdrawing large amounts of cash from his accounts since Brian McGuire’s disappearance, it looks like he’s on the run.” He lowered his voice. “Do you want me to see what I can find?”

I pinched my lips together, hesitating. As if some part of me still resisted the changed course I set upon last night.

But I made a promise to God. Or maybe a deal with the devil. I wasn’t sure which. All I did know was I wouldn’t do anything to put Imogene’s life in jeopardy again.

“It’s over,” I announced firmly, trying to push away any lingering doubts or reservations.

Henry scrunched his brow. “What do you mean?”

“All of it,” I replied under my breath. “I’m done. No more revenge. No more lies. It’s over. I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me, no questions asked…”

---