Page 75 of The Saint

Ivan spoke over the loudspeaker. “You’ve got ten seconds to walk out here, or she dies, asshole. Ten…nine…”

But it wasn’t Godric at all. “I’m okay,” she said as she cried. “I’m okay…”

Tears immediately flooded my eyes at her voice, and I clenched them shut.

“Eight…seven…”

“Sweetheart, Jesus fucking Christ…” I sniffled and swallowed the tears as best as I could. “Where are you?”

“Godric is driving me back to Paris. He saved me.”

“He did?”

“Six…five.”

“Yes,” she said through her tears. “He—he saved me.”

“Four…three.”

“I have to go. I love you.” I hung up before she could say anything else.

“What are you?—”

I slid open the panel. “I’m coming out.” I shut the panel again.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Luca snapped.

“I walk out there, and you throw the grenades.”

“You’ll die, Bastien.”

“Whistle before you throw.”

“This is suicide.”

“Just fucking do it, Luca. I trust you.”

“And I’m telling you not to?—”

“Well, I still fucking do.” I shoved him in the chest. “Now, come on.” I went to the door and cracked it open while I still stared at Luca, telling Ivan I was about to come out. “You’ve got this.” I stepped out and slammed the door, stepping into the lowlight from the sunrise because the darkest part of the night had passed.

When Ivan saw me walking toward him, he tossed the intercom aside and came closer to me, wearing that smug stare he’d had at the restaurant just hours ago. He stopped a couple feet away.

I stopped too.

I knew Fleur was alive, and that was enough to give me back the sense of calm that accompanied me in every situation. The adrenaline was like a drug, and I was higher than a kite, even when I was just seconds away from death. I really didn’t care about myself at all, but I cared for her with my whole being.

But I had to pretend that call had never happened. He obviously didn’t know Godric had betrayed him and taken her. My brother had probably killed all his men, so there was no one left to rat him out. “Let her go. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“It got you out here, didn’t it?” He was shorter than me, by at least six inches.

“I want proof that she’s alive.”

“You’re already out here, Bastien.”

“Just because I’m facing you like a man doesn’t mean I surrender. Give me the fucking proof, or I’ll come at you right now. If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

He crossed his arms over his chest as he considered the request, studying my eyes like I had a trick up my sleeve.

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