Page 5 of The Saint

“It wasn’t your fault. Adrien is the only one to blame.”

His eyes didn’t find mine again, glued to the table, the restraint visible in the tightness of his body.

“If I’d never met you, I’d be dead right now.” Oscar would have taken me, and Adrien would have had no way to get me back. “You were the one who found Oscar. You were the one who got my location before it was too late. You were the one who dug me out of the ground and brought me back to life.”

He closed his eyes for a second, flinching at the sting of my words.

“Even if you tried to leave me, I wouldn’t let you.”

His eyes came back to mine, still angry and broken but steeped in emotion.

“Because I never want to be apart from you.” This had all happened so fast, an underwater riptide that had pulled us far out to sea. The moment our eyes met, we were taken by the current, and I drowned in his blue eyes. This wasn’t the kind of relationship I’d wanted and not when I’d wanted it to happen—but that was done now. My heart had planted roots in his earth, and the sharpest ax couldn’t cut me down. I wanted to be with him always, for the rest of my life, for better or worse.

He stared at me for a long time, seconds that turned into a full minute. The pain that throbbed in his eyes slowly faded, the tears that had coated his eyes dried out within a single blink. But the emotion still burned on the surface, poignant and motionless like a winter fog. “Let’s get your stuff, sweetheart.”

It was my first time back in that apartment, and I was glad it would be my last.

I would face a penalty for breaking my year-long lease, but I didn’t give a damn. Like hell would I ever be able to sleep in that apartment again. I had good memories with Bastien, because we’d slept together for the first time in my bed, because we’d shared a pizza at my dining table one evening, fucked on the couch when he stopped by for a quick hookup. But that wasn’t enough to make me want to stay, not when I could be with Bastien every day.

The boxes were still everywhere, some tipped over from when the men had broken in and pushed them aside. I only had a few essentials left, some of my clothes and shoes and other accessories I used every day.

I stepped into my bedroom and looked at the bed. I still remembered the sound of their footsteps, the way I thought it was Bastien, until I realized too late that it wasn’t. The flashbacks were quick, the cold of the tile against my cheek, the darkness from the coffin.

Even when he stood behind me, he recognized my unease. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

I looked at the rumpled sheets then the closet before I released a sigh. “I know. Just need to grab a couple more things…” I opened the door and got to work, knowing the quicker I finished the task, the quicker I could leave.

Bastien stepped into the other room and called his guys to come by.

I threw the rest of my stuff in a suitcase, the items I used on an everyday basis so they would be easier to retrieve once we returned to his house.

Bastien stacked up the boxes near the doorway so the guys would have an easier time getting them out of the apartment when they arrived. When he had nothing else to do, he took a seat at the kitchen table and lit up a cigar, not caring about his manners since we were leaving the apartment for good in the next hour.

Twenty minutes later, the guys arrived and started to carry the boxes away.

Instead of letting his guys do all the work, he grabbed a box and carried it down too, the cigar still between his lips.

I finished my suitcase then rolled it toward the front door, a couple more boxes stacked there, waiting to be carried out. I still had things at Adrien’s house, items that had been too big or too valuable to move when I’d stormed out. My intention had been to go back and get them at some point, but that opportunity had never come.

Now, I would send Bastien to retrieve it for me so I wouldn’t have to look at that son of a bitch.

The guys took the last of the boxes, and Bastien grabbed the suitcase.

“Anything else?” Bastien asked.

I shook my head. “Everything else came with the apartment.”

“Alright.” Instead of rolling the suitcase across the floor, he carried it by the handle. We took the stairs to the bottom floor and then stepped onto the street. My things seemed to have been packed in another car that had already driven off because there was nothing in Bastien’s SUV except the suitcase he put in the back.

The car pulled away from the curb, and I looked at my apartment for the last time.

It was a decent place in a good spot, my shelter after I left my husband and stepped into a life of insecurity and isolation. Despite what had happened that night, I would always have love for it, because it was where I started over…even though I had been so fucking scared to do it. The rage and sting of betrayal had pushed me to leave Adrien, and the pride and stubbornness were what had kept me away. That apartment had never been home, but a stepping-stone to this moment, to the man beside me—home.

He had an enormous closet and only used a fraction of it. He was a simple man and a creature of habit, so his wardrobe was a couple pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, and long-sleeved shirts. All dark colors, with the exception of a few lighter grays. He owned one sweater and two jackets. That was it.

Instead of collecting expensive watches like Adrien, he seemed to collect guns. He didn’t appear to collect cars either because he had a driver in a black SUV take him everywhere. The only luxury he really seemed to care about was his estate, which was probably worth a number I couldn’t even write out correctly.

I spent the day hanging my clothes in the closet and organizing my stuff, wanting to get rid of the boxes that filled his rooms as quickly as possible. There was plenty of space, but they were still an eyesore that would drive Gerard crazy.

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