FOREVER MY SAINT (All the Pretty Things #3)

Day 92I AM SWATHED in silence. The type of silence that has you wondering if you have succumbed to the darkness for good. It’s peaceful here, and after experiencing nothing but noise for the past ninety-two days, I never want to leave. But as a voice flashes in and out of the abyss, demanding I wake the f**k up and fight, I know this reprieve is only short-lived. “He’s alive…I know where he is…and I need your help to get him out.” Those words play on a loop, taunting me with everything they represent. It’s hard to believe they’re true, and a big part of me believes this is Zoey’s revenge. She knows this is the only thing she could do that would really hurt me beyond repair. She’s insulted me, hacked off my hair, and beaten me until I bled, but each blow was nothing compared to this. This is what I’ve wanted to hear since I witnessed something so horrifying, it changed my world forever. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of every possible outcome. If Zoey is lying and I accept her words as truth, I don’t think I can handle losing him again. On the flipside, if what she says is the truth, then God help him. Her statement has me believing that wherever he is, he’s there against his will. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe, and the tattoo on my flank begins to burn, singeing his name onto my very soul. “I don’t have time for this. Wake the hell up!” “Calm down!” “Don’t tell me what to do! You gave up that right the moment you traded me in for a shinier toy.” “Do you blame me? You’re f*****g insane! You blew up my house!” The atmosphere contains so much tension, I’m certain it will explode in seconds. But would that be such a bad thing? I’ve known nothing but sorrow with glimmers of hope since this nightmare began, so maybe ending it all wouldn’t be so dire. But his image, combined with his words as well as everything he did to save me, crashes into me, and I know there is no choice. All of this can’t have been for nothing because I’ve been given a second chance. A second chance to make this right and save him this time. Hurdling over the roadblocks in my mind, I stagger toward the finish line because it’s time I won this race once and for all. The man whose name burns my very existence is all the fuel I need to pry open my heavy eyelids and gauge where I am. I’m lying on the cold floor of a small room, my room. Since I literally had no other place to go, this room has been my sanctuary. I’m a fugitive. We all are. As I meet the steel blue eyes of my once captor, everything comes to light, and I wince. If it wasn’t for him, none of this would have happened. But on the other hand, if he had never brought me into his world, I wouldn’t have met the man who shook my world beyond repair. And that man is…Saint. “Where—” I inhale and exhale deeply as I come to a shaky, half-sitting position. “Where is…he?” The room falls silent, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say everyone thought I was dead. Aleksei Popov, once the most feared man in Russia, has now become the most wanted. And that’s thanks to his former plaything blowing his castle to smithereens. “Are you all right?” When he tries to help me stand, I wave him off, not interested in his help. He’s done enough. Sara, my only friend, bites her nails as she watches on nervously. I can only imagine what being here does to her. It’s because of Alek, her former “boss,” that the man she loved is now dead. That she isn’t throttling him to death reveals she’s a bigger woman than I am. “Are you sure you’re not going to faint again?” And that leaves the last gameplayer. Zoey Hennessy—Saint’s sister, my arch-nemesis, and all-around psychotic b***h. “f**k you,” I spit in a winded breath as I wearily come to a hunched stance. Zoey stands her ground with her arms folded over her chest. How she’s changed from when I saw her last. From when she was Alek’s pet. “Just making sure,” she quips with a slanted grin while I grit my teeth. “Are you ready for the truth?” Am I? I honestly don’t know. Suffocating in this small room, I push past Zoey, desperate for some fresh air. I need a clear head to deal with what she’s about to share. The light streaming in from the large window burns my eyes. I shield them as I stagger down the corridor toward the glass door leading to the tranquil gardens. But the serenity does nothing to calm my nerves this time. The moment the cool air hits my cheeks, I hiss at the bittersweet kiss. Regardless of the temperature, I tip my face to the heavens and take a moment to gather my thoughts. Clutching at the cross around my neck, I close my eyes and beg for divine intervention. I know I don’t deserve it, but here, in this Godly place, maybe He will cut me a break. “Please, let it be true.” Instead of being comforted by the hand of God, I’m assaulted by the tongue of the devil. “You need to get your s**t together because you’re all I’ve got.” My last tether snaps, and I swivel around, marching toward Zoey. Ready for war, she matches my stride. “How can I even believe you? You’re hardly a credible source,” I cry, stopping mere inches away from her. She curls her lip, shaking her head in disbelief. “Do you really think I’d come here if it wasn’t true?” “Honestly, I don’t know!” I spread my arms out wide, eyeing her something wicked. “You’d do anything to get back at me!” She snarls and lunges forward, ready to rip the hair from my scalp. “Not about this! I would never lie about this.” Her anger simmers when she adds, “Never about him.” And just like that, Zoey and I find common ground. I take a step back. She does the same. With the tension still pulsating between us, we take a moment to calm down. However, I never take my eyes off her, and neither does she. We are thrown into this without a choice, but to save him, we will have to do something blasphemous—we will have to work together. “You can hate me all you want, but we want the same thing.” Her determination reveals she’s telling the truth. A heavy staccato rules my heart, and a wave of adrenaline overtakes me. She’s right. To help Saint, we will have to put our differences aside. But the thought of us being on the same side leaves a bitter aftertaste because I will never trust her. “Tell me everything,” I demand, uncaring that my teeth chatter from not only the cold but also my fear. “So you believe me?” “I’ll decide that once I hear what you have to say.” Zoey’s cheeks billow as she commences her tale. “Alek discarded me as if I meant nothing more to him than trash. Do you realize how that made me feel?” she says, her tone filled with hurt and anger. I fold my arms across my chest, hinting for her to go on because I’m not here to console her. When she reads my disinterest in her sob story, she continues. “But it was the best thing he ever did because Saint took me into the mountains and helped me heal. He brought me to a знахаря.” When I arch a brow, she clarifies, “A healer. Or some may even call her a witch doctor. He didn’t take me to a clinic or rehab because he knew I’d escape. He knew I’d bribe my way back to Alek.” When her eyes drift over my head, I realize we’re no longer alone. “бабушка was a tough b***h. She didn’t take my crap. I hated her, and I hated Saint for taking me to her, but neither gave up on me. No matter how many times I tried to escape, Saint found me and brought me back. The terrain was cruel, so without a map or a soul in sight, I had nowhere to go. “At first, I refused any help. When бабушка forced her disgusting home remedies down my throat, I fought with every ounce of strength I had in me. But after a while, I knew I was no match for her, and I gave in.” “What does that name mean?” I ask, watching as something foreign happens to Zoey—she smiles. “Grandmother. But don’t let the name fool you. Nothing is grandmotherly about her. Anyway,” she says, clearing her throat, disregarding her obvious sentiment for this woman. “Once the drugs were out of my system, I was left to deal with what I had done. With what was done to me.” She casts her eyes downward; the first sign that a broken girl lies beneath her venom. “There is no remedy to cure the damage done to your head. And heart,” she adds, lifting her eyes and locking them on Alek, who stands behind me. “But after all this time, I remembered who I was. And that’s a Hennessy. I’m a daughter. A sister. I matter. And regardless if I didn’t matter to the man I loved, I will never forget who I am ever again.” “Zoey…” Alek’s voice cuts through the air like a knife, but she holds up her hand, proving that the lessons learned have shaped her into this fierce woman before us. He no longer has any control over her. Kudos to her. “бабушка helped me to heal my body and soul. She helped me find the person I once was. And so did Saint. He never gave up on me. God knows he should have left years ago, but he never did. And now, I owe him the same. “He told me of his plans to save you,” she declares, her anger almost burning me. “He said he’d made a deal with those monsters to protect you and grant you safe passage back to America. In return, he agreed to be their little bitch.” I close my eyes, wishing to black out the memory for good. But I can’t. I never will. “I knew it was a death trap, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He said he’d be back.” When she scoffs, I open my eyes and focus on her tale. “Deep down, he knew their agreement wouldn’t stick. Which is why he had a plan B. I didn’t know how he expected to survive blowing himself up. And when he left his personal belongings behind, including the details of his fortune, he knew it too. But I couldn’t let that happen, so with бабушка’s help, I followed him. She told me where to stay hidden so he wouldn’t know I was following. “As I said, there is nothing grandmotherly about her.” I’m beginning to believe бабушка’s part in all of this was a lot bigger than I originally thought. “On the night of the masquerade ball, I entered through the secret doorway.” “That’s impossible,” Alek spits, challenging her story. “It was locked.” It’s true. I saw him unlock the trapdoor in the kitchen with my own two eyes. But when Zoey’s tsks him, I realize she isn’t referring to that one. “Oh, sweetie,” she coos, patronizing him as she smiles sweetly. “I meant the one in your study. The one you thought I didn’t know about.” A huff leaves Alek, and I don’t need to look at him to know he is seconds away from losing his s**t. “Anyway”—she flicks her hand, indicating it’s now her turn to talk—“I couldn’t stand by and watch him destroy his life. It was my turn to save him.” “How?” I never thought one word could carry so much hate, but Alek’s wrath doesn’t faze Zoey. “You know what the best thing is about having criminals at your disposal?” She levels Alek with an unbending stare. “They never say no to a little violence. Turns out the reason Saint knew бабушка was because you convinced her son to ‘work’ for you.” “Who?” Alek seems limited to minimal wording, but it’s enough. Without a pause, Zoey replies, “Pavel. I believe you acquired him because of his incredible knowledge of explosives and weaponry.” A string of Russian leaves Alek. My brain takes a moment to catch up to speed. “So it was you?” I gasp while Zoey stands tall. She just confessed that she was the reason the house crumbled down around us and not Saint. Could it be possible? I never saw Saint die. Could it be that he never pressed that button after all? She doesn’t answer my question just yet. There is more to her tale. “I knew your men were turning against you. Saint told me Max was going to help him, and that alliances were wavering. I knew it wouldn’t take much to convince Pavel to help me.” I’ll give it to Zoey—she had everyone fooled. “I planted the explosives with the help of Pavel and a few other men.” “Disloyal bastards,” Alek mutters under his breath. “After everything I’ve done for them.” Zoey recoils, appearing stunned by his ignorance. “Are you serious? You imprisoned us all. Pavel helped me because he wanted to go home. His mother was getting older, and you wouldn’t even allow him to visit her. You are the reason for all of this, Aleksei. You only have yourself to blame.” And for once, Zoey and I agree on something. “The plan was to catch everyone unawares. Pavel would detonate the explosives around the house before Saint could detonate his. But then that b***h Astra shot him, which really f****d things up.” Panic overtakes me, and I lick my suddenly dry lips. “So did Saint’s bomb go off?” Zoey shakes her head. “No, thankfully it didn’t. Ours did, though. But Astra did shoot him. I saw it on the surveillance cameras. Pavel and I waited for the explosions to go off, which we planted away from the den so there would be minimal damage to all of you. The plan was to grab Saint, who would be most likely stunned thanks to the commotion around him. Then the cavalry would come in, saving you all. The result would ensure those three bastards never left that house alive.” “Your plan was dangerous. What if he got hurt? What if he died in the explosion?” I cry, angered she would endanger his life that way. “Why didn’t you just tell him about your plan in the first place? It would have saved a lot of trouble.” “You clearly don’t know my brother,” she sarcastically taunts. “He is always taking it upon himself to save others. He wouldn’t risk my life or Pavel’s. In his mind, this was the only way to save your sorry ass.” I want to argue, but I don’t. She’s right. “And besides, he hardly gave me any time to plan. If I hadn’t intervened,” she snaps, clearly thinking this through, “he wouldn’t have just gotten hurt. He would have died. It was all I could do. When he told me about his ‘deal,’ I knew he would end up dying to save you. If, and that’s a big if, the plans went off without a hitch, I still would have blown that f*****g house to the ground. There was no way I would allow those animals to use my brother that way while you rode off into the sunset, forgetting everything he sacrificed for your freedom.” There is much distaste to her tone. “I would have never left him,” I spit, not appreciating her take on this situation. “I would have come back. Even if my freedom was granted, it means nothing, nothing without him.” Zoey seems unmoved. “Say what you want, but if it wasn’t for me, you’d all be dead.” There were a million other things she could have done, but truth be told, she did what I couldn’t—she saved him. Or she had hoped to because what she says next has a gasp leaving me. “But when we got to the den, he was gone.” The world tilts on its axis. “Gone?” “Yes. At first, I thought he had escaped, but I knew if he had, he wouldn’t have left you behind.” The fact has me frowning because she’s right. “And besides, with the shot he took to the chest, he wouldn’t have gotten far. I saw Borya’s body. He was definitely dead. But…” Her pause has the hair at the back of my neck stand on end. And when Zoey drops yet another bombshell, I know this is where the real story begins. “But Astra and Oscar…they were both gone.” I blink once, robbed of breath. “Impossible.” Alek breaks the silence. “If that were true, then we would have heard.” “Heard from who?” Zoey challenges. “What alliances do you have left, Alek? None. No one will dare help you after everything you’ve done.” When the grass rustles behind me and Alek marches forward, I expect Zoey to drop to her knees and beg for forgiveness as I’ve seen her do countless times before. But that was the old Zoey, and just like Borya, that person is dead. She stands her ground as he lunges for her, gripping her bicep and shaking her violently. “You blew up my f*****g house! You destroyed my life. And all for what? For revenge? Is that it?” Alek shakes her harder, but she only laughs in response. “You destroyed your own life the day you threw me out like I was nothing!” She rips her arm from his hold. “And the house? That place was a prison to everyone who was trapped within those walls.” I couldn’t have said it better myself. Zoey rubs her arm as she continues her story. “Pavel and I escaped back to the mountains where he and his mother were finally reunited. But it was here where the real plan was hatched. Unlike you, Alek, Pavel has people who respect him. It took us a while, but we found Saint.” My legs threaten to give way. “Where?” She inhales heavily, which hints that wherever he is can’t be good. “Oscar has him. He’s holding him prisoner.” And just like that, my worst fears have come to light. “No,” I cry, shaking my head because there has to be some mistake. But there isn’t. “Pavel has tried his hardest to infiltrate his house, but it’s like a fort. Especially because of what happened. So without a plan, we’re screwed.” I remember the picture; the evidence Zoey has. It was of a man who looked like Saint being shoved into the back seat of a car. The quality wasn’t great, and now I know that’s because Pavel’s informant was attempting to remain hidden and not rouse any suspicion. But there is a reason Pavel’s snitch was able to get a photo of Saint in the first place. Oscar isn’t careless, and now more than ever, you’d think he would be more careful to conceal his crimes. But he’s not, and the reason for that is…Oscar is using Saint as bait. He’s using Saint to lure us out of hiding. They know Alek and I are not dead. Oh, my god. I’m going to be sick. The thought of Saint being held captive by that monster…and knowing the things he would do to Saint. “Why are you only coming to me now? What took you so long to get here?” I can’t keep the anger from my voice. She has wasted so much time. “’Cause I tried every other option we had before I was forced to come here. I don’t want to work with you, but it appears I have no other choice. I knew Alek had close ties to this place, so I knew where to look. You’re lucky you kept your kindness a secret,” she mocks, glaring at Alek, but she’s right. No one has come looking for us here because they don’t know Alek has connections to the orphanage. But none of that matters. “We need to go. Now,” I affirm, ready to flee this very second. When Alek grips my forearm, preventing me from moving an inch, I’m prepared to fight until one of us is dead. “Don’t be stupid!” he shouts, attempting to subdue me as I fight him. “This is a trap.” “Let me go, Alek, or I will kill you myself!” It’s not an empty threat. I won’t allow him to stand in my way, not when Saint needs me. “Please, listen. If what Zoey says is true, then there will be eyes all over Russia. This is worse than I thought. With Oscar and Astra dead, we had half a chance. But if they’re not…” There’s no need for him to continue. I can fill in the blanks. “They will do anything to find me.” He’s pleading for me to see reason, but he’s s**t out of luck. I refuse to stay hidden when I know Saint is alive. Just as I break free, Zoey starts a slow clap. She catches us both unawares, unsure what has sparked a round of applause. “Your arrogance knows no bounds, Alek,” she explains, stating the obvious. So what does it have to do with Saint? I watch as she saunters toward him, maintaining total control. “If there’s a point to make, then get to it,” he snarls, not appreciating her bravado. She smirks, reaching up to run her fingers through his mussed hair. He doesn’t flinch, and neither does she. It’s the ultimate standoff, one which won’t end pretty. “They’re not after you, darling,” she mocks. His lips part, but she yanks his head back, refusing him speech. “They’re after her.” And there it is. The truth wrapped in a big red bow. “Wh-what? Why?” Alek’s stutter is an uncommon occurrence. This can only mean one thing—he believes her. With her fingers still threaded in Alek’s hair, Zoey turns over her shoulder, pinning me with nothing but hatred as she declares, “Because she is the one who brought down a kingdom, and now…it’s her turn to pay.”