Page 102 of Forever My Saint

Zoey struggles against her captor, but he only presses the serrated knife deeper into her neck.

“Someone has to die. And someone has to live. Those are the rules.”

“No.” Saint comes to a slow stand. “I won’t choose. If anyone has to die, then it’ll be me.”

“No!” I bellow. Not again.

“Those aren’t the options,” Astra tsks. “If only you’d come with us when the offer was there, then all of this could have turned out differently. So I want you to choose who to save. And who to kill.”

Zoey begins to sob, and the sound is so foreign to me because even though she is a bitch, she is a hard-nosed bitch who doesn’t cry. Until now.

“Zoey, don’t cry,” Saint coos, his face twisted in pain. “It’ll be all right. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She sniffs shakily, nodding. “I deserve it. This is my f-fault. I was just trying to h-help.” She is referring to blowing up Alek’s home. “I’m so s-sorry for everything, Saint.”

Funny, it’s the first time I remember it was here it once stood. In the distance, I can see some twisted rubble. A roof? Maybe even a wall? Everything is so different now.

“I know,” he assures her kindly.

“Ticktock,” Astra says, now the one to look down at her imaginary watch. Fuck her.

And here we are, stuck at a crossroads. Will Saint save his sister, the person responsible for all of this? Or me? The person who is also responsible for all of this.

I suddenly realize Zoey and I despise the other because we are the same. We’re stubborn, don’t take no for an answer, and we fight for what’s right. No matter how much I hate her, I admire her just as much. Which is why I make the decision for Saint.

“Kill me.”

Saint takes a staggered step backward.

“Kill me, Saint. I will make the choice for you. They’re going to kill me anyway.” I look at Astra who doesn’t deny my claims.

Saint turns a ghastly shade of white. “No,” he cries, shaking his head firmly. “I will not.”

“Then you’ll have to kill your sister because there aren’t any other options.”

Saint looks like he’s about to be sick as he places a fist to his lips to hold down his vomit. He knows we don’t have the luxury of bargaining with these assholes. Been there, done that.

Zoey gasps, appearing surprised by my self-sacrifice. Yes, it’s honorable, but I wouldn’t be this calm if I wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest. She has a knife to her throat, but me, if I can sway them into shooting me in the chest, then maybe we have a fighting shot.

I attempt to play visual charades with Saint, hoping he reads between the lines. But just for good measure, I say, “It’s okay, but make sure you aim for my heart; it’s broken without you anyway.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, a sign that he’s clued in to my plan. I don’t know what good it’ll do, but here’s to hoping once Astra witnesses my death, her need for vengeance will be quenched. It’s no secret she blames me for her kingdom crumbling, so if my “death” can settle the score, then line me up.

“While you’re deciding, how about you pass me that bag, Pavel? Ingrid mentioned there were explosives.” Oscar gestures with two fingers that Pavel is to hand the duffel over.

Shit.

This is not good. Once Oscar opens that bag and sees there is, in fact, no bomb, he will ask questions, and questions lead to uncovering the fact I’m wearing a bulletproof vest. We’re running out of time.

“Do it!” I cry, spreading my arms out wide. “Now.”

Saint’s body begins to tremble, and I imagine the snow splitting down the middle with the force. He too knows there is no time to waste.

“I can’t!” he cries. We both know if he cedes too quickly, it’ll rouse suspicion. He was about to sacrifice himself for me, so giving in to Astra’s ultimatum doesn’t seem plausible.

However, when a man rips the duffel from Pavel, I need to think on my feet. “You can. Astra is right. I do…l-love Aleksei. That’s why I’m here.”

A growl so deep rumbles from Saint, I take a small step backward.

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