Page 7 of Final Vendetta

Sinking into a pew, I bowed my head and closed my eyes. It had been years since I’d been in a place like this. Since I’d spoken to anyone who might be listening on the other side.

I didn’t know if God could hear me, or if He would even care. Hell, I wasn’t even sure He existed anymore.

I’d spent so many years consumed by vengeance, certain nothing in this world — or the next — could save me. But this wasn’t for me. This was for Imogene.

“If she pulls through,” I murmured, barely able to hear my own words. “I’ll walk away from all of it. I’ll… I’ll find a way to turn over a new leaf. I won’t let revenge ruin anything else. I’ll only focus on her. On my future. Not be so obsessed with my past. Please…” I looked up at the ceiling. “Please don’t make her pay for what I’ve done.”

The heavy wooden door creaked open, causing an echo to reverberate through the silent room. I snapped my head toward the sound as Lachlan slipped inside. Approaching me, he arched a single eyebrow, silently asking permission to join me.

I nodded, and he lowered himself beside me, keeping his gaze focused straight ahead for several long moments. I wanted to ask what the doctor told him.

At the same time, I didn’t.

I wanted to remain in this moment when I still had hope, regardless of how fleeting it was. Wanted to stay in a world where Imogene was still in it.

“Julia told me who you really are,” Lachlan finally said in a subtle Australian accent, his tone more matter-of-fact than accusatory. “That your name isn’t actually Gideon Saint.”

“It’s not,” I confirmed.

“Does Imogene know? Julia mentioned she was suspicious, but?—”

“She does now. She didn’t at first, but I eventually told her the truth.”

He nodded, processing my confession for what felt like an eternity. Then his eyes met mine, steady and searching.

“I don’t know what happened to you, why the world thought you were dead. And maybe I don’t want to know. But Imogene…she deserves someone who will put her first. Above everything else.” He gave me a knowing look. “Do you understand that?”

The question hung between us, heavy with implication. I tried not to read too much into his use of the present tense when speaking of Imogene, although it certainly gave me hope. If he’d received the news I feared most, he wouldn’t make me promise to put her first. Would he?

“Without a doubt. She’s… She’s everything to me.”

Satisfied with my assurance, Lachlan placed a hand on my shoulder. “Good.” He gave it a brief squeeze before releasing me, looking forward once more. Another heavy silence filled the room before he announced, “She’s out of surgery.”

A sudden, almost unbearable relief washed over me. Every muscle in my body relaxed, and I closed my eyes, silently thanking God, Allah, the universe for listening to my desperate pleas.

“She has some cracked ribs,” he continued, “but they’ll heal on their own in time. They had to remove her spleen and re-inflate a collapsed lung, and they’ll have to keep the chest tube in over the next three or so days to help. Her shoulder was dislocated, but they set it during surgery. In addition to a concussion, she has a lot of other bruising and the doctor expects her to be in quite a bit of pain when she wakes up, which is why he wants to keep her sedated for the time being. But she’s expected to make a full recovery with plenty of rest.”

“And her heart?” I asked.

“It’s strong.”

I exhaled, the tightness in my chest finally releasing with my breath. She was going to be okay. I hadn’t lost her.

And I was going to do everything in my power not to squander this second chance.

Chapter Four

Gideon

My footsteps echoed in the quiet hospital corridor as Lachlan led me toward Imogene’s recovery room. My heart pounded with anxiety as we navigated the maze of hallways, the fluorescent lights overhead casting an unnatural glow. The air was heavy with the sharp scent of disinfectant and the faint undertone of sickness — a reminder of the fragility of life.

Despite Lachlan’s assurances that Imogene was stable and would make a full recovery, I wouldn’t believe it until I saw her with my own eyes. Until I heard her heart beat. Until I felt the warmth of her skin.

Finally, we reached the end of the corridor and Lachlan opened the door for me. On a hard swallow, I entered the room, my gaze immediately drawn to Imogene lying in the bed. Melanie and Julia sat in chairs beside her, their faces filled with relief. But all I could see was Imogene, bruised and broken from my actions.

I took a shaky step closer, my heart constricting at the sight of the tubes and wires snaking from her body, just as Lachlan had warned me. Her left arm was wrapped in a sling, a bandage covered her eyebrow, and bruises decorated her skin. I could only imagine the bruises I couldn’t see.

It took everything in me not to collapse right there, my knees shaking as I fought to keep steady. A choked sob escaped before I could stop it, and Julia rushed toward me, placing a comforting hand on my arm.

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