Page 44 of Fallen Saint

Alek opens the passenger door for me, and I enter the car, numb. He jumps into the driver’s side and starts the engine, navigating away from the mess he made but doesn’t have to clean up. The silence as he drives us back to his home speaks volumes.

I press my forehead to the glass and squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to erase what I’ve witnessed…but deep down, I know this is just the start of things to come.

She’s seen me kill. Seen the true monster that I am. So, now that she’s seen me, the question is what will she do?

Day 48

ITHOUGHT TAKINGa shower and scrubbing away the remnants of last night would make me feel slightly better, but it hasn’t. All I can think about is how Hans and Chow will never have that privilege again.

When I could no longer distinguish between my tears and the running water, I decided to switch off the faucets because I couldn’t hide forever. I hunted through the closet, wanting nothing more than to wear a pair of sweats and a baggy T-shirt, but I settled on skinny jeans and a blouse instead. It’s forbidden, it seems, to dress in anything casual.

I’m in the bathroom brushing my teeth when I hear the bedroom door open.

I wanted to go to Saint, but after my revelation, I needed some time to clear my head. I always knew that the feelings I had for him resembled love, but after last night, it seems all the smokescreens had faded and I was left faced with the stark truth.

Ironic, isn’t it? Seeing him take someone’s life was the key to unearthing what lingered under the surface all along. I know how incredibly fucked up that is.

Rinsing out my mouth, I know it’s now or never. I can run and hide, but I’m not going to be a coward now. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and brace myself for anything and everything. However, when I see a disheveled Zoey standing in my room with her hands behind her back, it appears I’m not prepared at all.

Before I have a chance to speak, she reveals why she’s here. “He took you. And Sara,” she spits, her eyes on fire.

After everything I’ve seen, her jealousy is so trivial. “Believe me, it was against both our wills.”

“That’s what I don’t understand! He never kidnapped me. He chose me. He wanted me. And I wanted him!” Just how Saint once said, Zoey, just like all the others, have stayed with Alek by choice. “You don’t want anything to do with him, but he is smitten by you. Why?” she questions, shaking her head in bewilderment. “What do you have that I don’t?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to express the obvious—like morals and that I’m a good person—but when I think about my feelings for her brother, I remain quiet.

She’s angry, but more so, she’s hurt. She loves Alek with all her heart, and in return, he trades her in for another. I understand why she resents me, but she seems to be missing the vital point that I don’t want to be here.

When she saunters forward, I stand my ground, wondering what she plans on doing. She reveals what a moment later.

“It’s ’cause you’re a new shiny toy. That’s all,” she reasons with herself. The last time I saw her, she was naked and being exploited by Alek’s “friends.” It seems she’s forgotten all about that because why would he do that to her if he loved her in return?

“But if you weren’t so…shiny”—her pause has me swallowing, suddenly nervous—“then things would go back to the way they were.”

“Zoey…” However, my words die in a garbled mess when she uncovers what she’s holding behind her back.

“He loves me. Not you.” The sunlight streaming in from the windows reflects off the pair of silver scissors she holds. She opens and closes them, the clear-cut noise displaying just how sharp they are.

Instantly, I retreat with my hands raised in surrender. But Zoey isn’t interested in waving a white flag.

“You think you’re better than me,” she exclaims, cutting the air with the scissors.

“No, I don’t. I’m nothing,” I state, unable to keep the panic from my voice as I continue backing away from her.

“That’s right. Youarenothing. You may have Alek and my brother fooled, but I see you. And now, it’s time they do too.”

She lunges for me, but I make a mad dash for the en suite door. Sadly, it seems anger has turned Zoey into a superhero because she grips the back of my blouse, preventing me from escaping. I twist and turn, attempting to flee, but she only holds on tighter. Saint’s training is now obsolete because there is no fighting Zoey. I’ve made a rookie move and lowered my defenses.

My heart sits in my throat because I don’t know what she intends to do with those scissors. The thought has me thrusting my elbow backward, connecting with something soft. When she howls in pain, I think I’ve struck her in the stomach.

When she lets me go, I don’t waste a second and dive for the safety of the en suite. But Zoey reads my intentions, and I curse my decision to leave my hair down. She grabs a fistful and yanks hard. On instinct, I claw at her hand, hoping to pry myself free, but she only pulls harder.

“Let’s see who Alek prefers now!” she cries, dragging me by my hair back into the room.

“Zoey!” I scream, violently trying to escape, but it’s futile. She comes up behind me, cups my head, and slams my face into the wall. A lump instantly forms on my forehead, and I see painful stars. To ensure I don’t fight back, she presses on my tender shoulder where I’m still recovering from the gunshot wound.

She doesn’t give me time to recover before smashes my face into the wall again. And again.

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