Page 51 of The Saint

“Is he with you now?”

“Yeah, he passed out a couple minutes ago.”

“Fuck.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Okay. I love you.”

He didn’t hang up, just sat with the phone to his ear. “I love you too.”

I hung up to head downstairs, and I got into the back seat of the SUV. His driver took me across town, driving in the dark, the streets still full of people because it wasn’t midnight yet. Now that my biggest fear had been alleviated, that Bastien hadn’t been killed, I could breathe again.

But I also didn’t want Adrien to die.

I hated him for the way he’d treated me, but I believed Bastien was the man I was supposed to be with all along, so it was hard to hold a grudge. I didn’t believe in fate or destiny, but it seemed like those things might be real. Maybe all those bad things were supposed to happen so I would find Bastien…and he would save my life.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the hospital. Bastien wasn’t in the waiting room, but Luca was. Other than an ugly bruise on his face, he looked unharmed. He rose from his chair and came to me when he saw me walk into the room.

On instinct, I hugged him, gripped him hard, and squeezed. “You okay?”

He flinched at my touch, his arms at his sides like he didn’t know how to reciprocate my affection. But then his arms moved and closed around my body. “Yeah…I’m okay.” He gave me a squeeze before he pulled away.

“Where is he?” Bastien was the first person I’d expected to see, but he wasn’t there. Maybe he was in the restroom or the cafeteria. But I couldn’t imagine him leaving until he saw me first.

“He’s getting stitched up.”

“Stitched up?”

“Guess he didn’t tell you that.”

“Tell me what?”

“He got stabbed in the arm. But he’ll be fine.”

“He got stabbed?”

“He’s been shot, so this is nothing.”

“What?”

“Not now, but a couple years ago?—”

“Luca.”

I heard his voice behind me and immediately turned to see his face.

He gave Luca a cold stare. “You have the worst bedside manner I’ve ever seen.”

“I told her you were fine,” he argued.

“You told her I was shot,” Bastien snapped. “She did not need to know that.”

I moved into his chest and hugged him tight, smelling the rain that had dampened his clothes. He was alive and well, and I squeezed him as I treasured that fact.

His arms circled my shoulders, and he held me there, let me hold on to him like a life raft. “It’s alright, sweetheart.”

Luca silently excused himself.

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