Page 103 of Forever My Saint

“I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”

Astra gestures to the man who has the duffle to stop as the bag can wait. Watching me rip out Saint’s heart is far more interesting.

“How could you do this? After everything he’s done.” Saint shakes his head, sickened.

The line suddenly blurs between reality and fiction.

Alek looks hopeful, that maybe what I say is true. I don’t hate him, but my feelings for him will never be anything more than accepting this truth. However, deep down, I know Saint doesn’t fully believe me. Whether it’s jealousy or insecurity, I don’t know, which is why our little exchange is believable.

“I know. I’m not strong like you are, which is why I deserve to die by your hand. I’m sorry for everything.” My sincerity is real because I truly am sorry. Hating Alek and leaving him to the wolves would have been far easier than the predicament we’ve found ourselves in by coming here.

But I would be lying to not only myself but to Saint as well. And besides, we have unfinished business with the man who looks at Saint with nothing but desire. This needs to finish. And now.

“Take Zoey and start over. That’s why this all started. Let it end with my death.”

“No!” I’m surprised when I hear Alek’s voice. “Don’t you touch her! Kill me, kill me instead.”

I gasp, stunned by his self-sacrifice because he actually means it.

Saint turns his chin slowly, scowling at Alek. “That won’t be a problem.”

Astra grins, thoroughly enjoying the drama she’s caused. “It seems everyone is more than willing to sacrifice themselves for someone else. How…tragic.” She doesn’t seem touched. “Borya never had that opportunity because you killed him. You all did.”

From the corner of my eye, I notice Pavel gesturing for Ingrid to move. Everyone has seemed to have forgotten about her, too engrossed in the tragedy unfolding before them. Ingrid rises slowly and begins a slow walk toward one of the cars.

I need to keep the attention on me because whatever Ingrid and Pavel have planned, it’ll hopefully get us out of the shit I brought them into.

“You’re right, Astra.”

I’ve caught her off guard. “Right about what?”

“About Borya. I’m sorry he’s dead. No matter what he did, you still loved him. We don’t choose the people we fall in love with.”

Her mouth parts as I’ve rendered her speechless. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not.” And I mean it. “No one understands the love you feel for another. I’m not claiming to. But I respect you for it because, deep down under this bitch façade, you are capable of loving someone other than yourself. Which is why Alek doesn’t deserve to die. Which is why I’m here. He was capable of loving me.”

I lock eyes with Alek, wanting him to know this. This could have turned out a million other ways because our relationship has been volatile, but to see him on his knees, bloodied and begging for my life, makes me believe things have come full circle.

This isn’t an ideal ending, but it’s an ending, and it’s one I can accept. I needed to hear Alek’s pleas to save me because it confirms that what I’ve done, what I intend to do is right.

Astra holds her head high, but I can see what my words have done. If I were in her shoes and someone killed Saint, I too would want revenge on those who ended his life. But all is not fair in love and war since we’re on opposing sides.

I watch Ingrid creep closer and closer to an unmanned black car. She seems to be gauging the distance between it and Oscar.

Serg decides this touchy-feely crap isn’t going to stick and grips Alek’s hair, jarring his neck backward. “Where was the love for my father when you killed him?” he snarls, peering down at him with nothing but contempt.

Alek bursts into a humored cackle. “Get over it, already,brother.”

Serg responds by kneeing him in the chin. It doesn’t seem he will be getting over it anytime soon.

We are all here for our own reasons, but at the very core, we’re driven by love. Our actions are fueled by it. Though Oscar may be the exception to that rule. He may think he loves Saint, but he only loves how Saint makes him feel.

“This is all very Oprah worthy, but I’m bored.” He reaches into his pocket and produces a gun, aiming it at me. “If you can’t do it, Saint, then I will.”

Saint instantly dives in front of me, prepared to take the bullet. We haven’t fooled anyone.

“Fine, then.” Oscar quickly shifts his mark to Zoey.

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