Page 69 of The Saint

“She’ll be there in a minute,” I said before I hung up.

Fleur did as I asked, just threw a couple things inside and didn’t try to coordinate outfits or take nonessential things. She zipped up the bag on the bed then put on jeans and a sweater. She didn’t even brush her hair.

When she came back to me, she was winded from both exertion and anxiety. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to leave.”

“Sweetheart.” I cupped her face and held her close. “I’ll get you as soon as I can.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening.”

I didn’t want to tell her the truth. Didn’t want to scare her when she was already scared. “I have to take care of something, and I can’t do that and worry about you at the same time. It’s only for a short while. You’ll be okay.”

“It’s not me that I’m worried about.” She looked at me with her teary eyes. “If I have to leave, then I know it’s bad.”

“I’ve had bad before, and it’s always been okay.” But not bad like this, when some asshole thought he could come into my city and take it from me. Could turn my allies against me and knock me off my feet. “But I have you now, and everything is different.”

Tears sprang free.

I couldn’t comfort her more than that. “We have to go.” I grabbed the bag off the bed, took her hand, and we headed downstairs to the driveway behind the gate. Two SUVs were already there, the first one to take Fleur to the safe house. I opened the back door, tossed her stuff in the back, and then helped her inside.

She looked like she wanted to cry again.

I wanted to comfort her, but I wanted to protect her more, so I didn’t linger. “I love you.” I cupped her face, and I pressed a kiss to her forehead and kept it there, holding her for possibly the last time.

I didn’t let go until I heard her say it back.

“I love you too,” she said tearfully.

My hand slipped out of her hair, and I closed the door before I knocked on the back of the car, telling the guys to go.

They drove away, and I headed to the next SUV and got into the back seat. “The warehouse.” The car left the roundabout. But in the rearview mirror, I noticed another SUV pull up behind me. They rolled down the windows, and the guards talked to the driver and passenger.

Maybe Luca was in there.

The car Fleur was in turned on the road and headed toward the edge of the city.

It was in that moment that I questioned everything. Instead of dealing with this maniac, I could have slipped into bed beside Fleur and watched her sleep. I could have woken up with her and taken her to breakfast. I could have a normal, peaceful life—but I chose this.

16

FLEUR

I was quiet in the back seat next to my bag, tears escaping even when I tried my damnedest to fight them. I was worried for him, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried for myself too. Just a month ago, I’d taken my final breath and inhaled a pool of muddy water that killed me. I still remembered it vividly, how painful of a death it was. And then for the week afterward, I slept more than I ever had in my life, like my brain needed to heal from the loss of oxygen for however long I’d been dead.

And now here we were again…

I watched the city disappear as we headed farther away into the countryside, where it was just highways and billboards and then nothing of substance on either side. We turned on a road and left the main area and soon it was fields and the occasional building or warehouse.

It gave me heart palpitations because I felt like I was reliving the past, driving out to the middle of nowhere where a coffin awaited. I’d expected to stay somewhere in the city, in an apartment or barricaded inside an office building, a needle in a haystack.

Something about this didn’t feel right.

When I’d thrown my stuff in my bag, I’d grabbed whatever clothes were nearest, but I’d also grabbed a handgun from his closet and tossed that inside.

My eyes lifted when I heard the driver speak into his earpiece. “Yeah, we got her.”

My blood burned and turned ice-cold at the same time.

Who was he talking to?

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