Page 36 of The Saint

His breathing picked up. Whether it was in anger or emotion, it was unclear.

“I waited for someone to accuse me, to realize I was the person who hated him the most, but not a single person eventhoughtit could be me. Like I’m some spineless pussy just because I didn’t want to shoot an innocent girl. Dad said I was weak and worthless, but who’s in charge of this city now?” My eyes flicked back and forth between his. “It’s not him. It’s not you.It’s me.”

His eyes were impossible to read, but there was no doubt he was glued to my tale, probably wanting more details but was still too proud to ask for them.

“You know what’s most ironic about all of this?” I hadn’t expected to come to this wedding and run into my brother, of all people. And I certainly hadn’t expected to dump all my daddy issues on him either. “If he knew what I’d become, he’d be proud of me—and the fact that that makes me smile is the sickest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Godric finally did something, pulled his hand out of his pocket and rubbed his jawline like he needed a second to process everything he’d just learned. It was hard to hear little details over the music, but the breath he released was so loud I noticed it. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Thirteen years ago. Five years ago. But you decide to tell me now in a crowded room at a fucking wedding.”

I dug deep inside and tried to find the answer, but it was like trying to find something in a thick pool of mud. My mind usually protected me from what I failed to tolerate, but that mechanism seemed to have stopped. “Because I wasn’t ready—and now I am.”

He took another slow breath, his chest visibly rising as he felt those words all over his body. But his eyes dropped, like he didn’t know what to say, how to feel. “The Aristocrats are planning something big in three days. Make a deal or hit them first.”

For the first time in eighteen years, I didn’t look at my brother like an enemy.

He prepared to turn away, like this conversation had run its course. “And I didn’t know Fleur was your girl. I would have stopped Oscar if I’d known.”

So, he’d known about the hit and didn’t lie about it. He had more honor than most men who looked me in the eye. “I believe you.”

He stepped away and headed back to his table, his girl watching him as she waited for him to return to her, as if they’d been in the middle of a conversation when he’d gotten up and walked over to me.

I left the ballroom and entered the hallway to find the bathroom, needing a break from the music and the people and the laughter and the bullshit. I’d been in a good mood before I spotted my brother across the room. Talked shop with the guys with my hand on my woman’s thigh. But that all went to shit, and I confessed to Godric like he was my goddamn priest.

“Bastien.”

My eyes had drifted to the carpet below my feet because I was so deep in thought. It was something I never did. I lifted my gaze and looked at a woman in a dark blue dress, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette.

I knew her face but not her name. Maybe if she’d caught me on a better day, I would have recalled it.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” She let the smoke escape her nostrils before she extended her cigarette for me to share.

I gave a slight shake of my head.

“Trying to cut back?”

I didn’t share cigarettes or drinks with anyone but Fleur—and occasionally Luca. “Bride or groom?”

“Neither. My boyfriend invited me.”

At least she’d moved on.

“I saw you with that brunette.” She held the cigarette between her fingertips, all attitude. “She’s pretty.”

I knew a backhanded compliment when I saw one. “Why do you think I’m fucking her.” I wasn’t sure why I continued to stand there and talk to her. Guess it was a nice distraction from what had just happened. I could pretend that conversation had never taken place.

She sidestepped the comment. “Remember that time in the Louvre? When you took me there after it closed, and we did it right up against the sculpture?” She took another drag from her cigarette. “That was fun.”

I’d taken a couple girls there. Something about art history made them kinky. “I wish I remembered. Excuse me.” I walked around her and headed to the bathroom. When I stepped inside, I moved to the counter and stared at my snow-white face. My eyes were angry—even when I looked at myself.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, but I appeared to be the only one in the room, everyone else at the bar or mingling at their tables. I’d always been a sucker for weddings, not for the romance, but for the energy and excitement for what lay ahead. But every time I tried to look at my future, I somehow looked at my past instead.

I washed my hands just so my trip wasn’t completely pointless then returned to the hallway. The girl in the blue dress was gone,but the smell of her cigarette smoke lingered. I walked through it and then noticed Fleur in her little black dress and sky-high heels. She must have used the restroom herself and assumed that’s where I was.

She turned to look at me, and when the smile didn’t bloom on her face like it always did at the sight of me, I knew she’d witnessed my exchange with Godric.

I stopped before her, chin dropped so I could look into her face.

She studied mine before she spoke. “That was your brother, wasn’t it?”

---