FOREVER MY SAINT (All the Pretty Things #3)

Three-1

Day 94THE AUTUMN HUES will soon be replaced with blankets of crisp white snow, thrilling my inner child. When I was younger, I was desperate for a white Christmas. The thought of being bundled up tight while sitting by the fireplace as I unwrapped presents was my perfect Christmas morning. But being from Texas, I had to settle for sunny mornings in December instead.

But now, being in a foreign place, the thought of seeing snow by Christmas utterly depresses me. I want to say with conviction that come December, I will be out of this place for good, but I can’t.

The truth is, I don’t know where I’ll be or if I’ll be alive to see my first white Christmas. The future is uncertain.

Shifting in the back seat of the car, I appreciate the deep orange hues in this magical landscape since I don’t know when I’ll see it again. Pavel made it clear that Oscar will ensure I pay my dues for what I did. But it’s nothing I didn’t already know.

I want to prepare myself for every possible outcome, but truth be told, I don’t know what’s headed my way.

“You have everything?” Pavel asks as he peers at me in the rearview mirror.

“Yes.” By everything, he means do I have the tiny bugs he asked me to plant around the house as, no doubt, Oscar’s paranoia will prevent him from allowing me any communication with the outside world.

And he has every right to feel that way.

When the familiar neighborhood comes into view, Zoey peers at me from over her shoulder. She’s been quiet for the ride, staring out the windshield, so when we lock eyes, I wonder what she’s going to say.

I know we’re not friends. We merely want the same thing.

“Don’t f**k this up.”

“I won’t,” I reply with conviction. Even though my racing heart and sweaty palms contradict my confidence.

Pavel clears his throat. “Make sure you stick to the plan, all right? No going rogue. As I said, I don’t even know if this will work. He may not even want the details of the supplier, but—”

“But as long as I’m in, that’s all that matters,” I interrupt because I don’t need Pavel to list everything that’s wrong with this plan.

For the past two days, Pavel has talked me through the plan until I could recite it in my sleep. It seems simple enough—play dumb when it comes to Alek. Trade information for Saint’s release. And do the one thing I haven’t been able to do since this nightmare began.

Submit.

Oscar isn’t like Alek. He won’t tolerate any misbehavior. If I step out of line, he’ll make sure I pay. Or more accurately, he’ll ensure Saint pays. Oscar knows I’ll do anything to set him free. But this time, we’re leaving together.

“Okay. I’m going to park here. We can’t be seen,” Pavel says, turning in his seat to look at me.

Pavel has parked the black car three blocks away, which allows me time to settle my nerves and get my head in the game.

“Make contact as soon as you can. He will most likely take your cell, but try to reach out when you can. I’ll be listening. Make sure you plant those bugs discreetly so they remain undetected.”

I nod, wiping my palms onto my jeans.

“Good luck.”

Zoey doesn’t say a word.

I take her silence as goodbye, so I unbuckle my belt and reach for my bag. Just as I’m about to open the door, she speaks. “Bring my brother back.”

This is the first time I have ever seen emotion from her, and her raw and heartfelt plea was exactly what I needed to hear.

Regardless of our past, she is the only person who understands this loss I feel. Every day, I wake with this gaping hole in my chest, and I don’t know how to fix it. Coming here may be suicidal, but living with this feeling will eventually end my life for good.

Nothing but respect passes between us as I affirm, “I will.” With those parting words, I open the door, and following the advice Saint once gave me, I don’t look back.

Each step takes me closer to the unknown, but I don’t feel scared. For the first time in a long time, I feel like my fate lies in my own hands. I know how ridiculous that sounds, considering my circumstances, but this decision was mine to make alone. And that’s something I haven’t been able to do in a very long time.

With that as my mindset, I hold my head high with no expectations and don’t look back as I walk toward Oscar’s house. A car drives off in the distance, alerting me that Pavel and Zoey have left. When the tall steel double gate comes into view, I push aside the memories of when I was here last and only focus on the now.

I measure my breathing, going over the rehearsed story in my head one last time. I know it like the back of my hand, but I’m worried I’ll mess it up somehow now that I’m here. But that isn’t an option. I can’t fail.

Tipping my face to the heavens, I inhale deeply and gaze into the gray skies one last time because I don’t know when I’ll see it next. So much is about to change yet again. My life is a constant merry-go-round, and I wonder when it’ll slow down.

Gathering my thoughts, I take a deep breath, then put on my game face. I ignore the tremble to my finger as I push the button on the intercom. Even though no one answers, the flashing red dot on the camera above me indicates someone knows I’m here.

After a few seconds, static crackles before someone speaks to me in Russian. He could be saying go away for all I know, but I don’t let that deter me.

“Hi, I’m here to see Oscar.” I can only hope he understands me.

He does.

“Oscar isn’t here.”

Before he has a chance to tell me to beat it, I quickly press the button. “Just in case he is…tell him Will—” I quickly backtrack. “Tell him…ангел is here.” I raise my chin firmly, staring into the camera so he can see me.

The blinking light is hypnotic as I focus on it and pray that this works.

My heart begins to race as one minute turns to two. If this doesn’t work, then I will scale these high walls. Even though I won’t get far, I sure as s**t will get their attention. Just when I think the plan has fizzled even before it had a chance to flourish, the gate slowly whines open.

A small jubilant bubble explodes inside me, but I rein in my emotions.

I don’t wait for further instruction and slip in the moment the gap is wide enough. I measure my pace as I don’t want to seem too eager. Pavel told me I need to remain calm and collected because Oscar needs to think I have the upper hand for our plan to work.

The gardens are dull, a harsh contrast to the flourishing vegetation I saw when here last. I suppose even the flowers have gone into hiding, not wanting to witness the shitstorm about to unfold. The house reeks of wealth, but it’s cold and unloved. It appears to be more a museum than a home.

The moment I am within a few feet of the front door, it opens and out marches three armed men. I’ve never seen them before, but my guess is that they are the muscle. They yell at me in Russian, and when I stand dumbfounded, they yank my backpack off my shoulders roughly.

Tossing it to the ground, they rifle through it without care. There isn’t much in there, but when they pull out a pack of gum, I hold my breath. They look at it closely, passing it around, while I do what Pavel told me—stay calm.

That’s a little hard because what they hold isn’t just a pack of gum. Inside is what will save Saint. Hidden inside a stick of gum—the first and third in the pack, to be precise—are five tiny bugs. I don’t know how Pavel acquired these, but he said they would work.

However, when one of the meatheads hunts through the packet and retrieves a stick, I worry the only thing Pavel will be listening to is the goings-on of his digestive system.

I try to think on my feet, but stopping them will rouse suspicion. So I simply watch on without any emotion.

The three men each help themselves to the gum. They examine me as they remove the wrappers and pop the green gum into their mouths. There is no way for me to tell if they’ve eaten the bugs or not.

After a few noisy seconds of chewing, they nod, then toss the gum back into my backpack. Just when I’m about to sigh a breath of relief, one of them gestures for me to turn around. Without hesitation, I do as he requests.

He commences frisking me, straying a little too close for comfort. But I never waver, even when he lifts my jacket to examine the small of my back and runs his hand over my ass. I just envision breaking every one of his fingers. When he’s satisfied I’m not packing, he then turns me by the shoulders and frisks my front.

He fondles my breasts, acting if this behavior is all part of his “job.” He watches for any signs of fear. In response, I roll my eyes at his clumsy groping. Once he’s ensured nothing is strapped to my legs and ankles, he stands and grunts.

“Come,” one of the goons says, gripping my bicep and dragging me up the stairs. Once I step foot inside, I am hit with a wave of nostalgia. But it’s not of the good kind.

I shrug from his grip, not interested in playing nice. “Where is Oscar?”

The man who frisked me tosses my backpack at my feet while the one who manhandled me is far from impressed with my demands. “Wait here.”

That suits me just fine.

Two of them disappear, leaving me alone with my groper. He leans against the wall, chewing his gum loudly. While he makes no secret of his ogling, I am also forthright in my response that being near him repulses me. I shift to the left, folding my arms over my chest.

Looking around, most would be impressed by their opulent surroundings. The walls reek of wealth as no expense has been spared. But just as Alek’s home was, this place is merely a prison with golden bars.

The thought of being imprisoned once again makes my skin itch, but I stand tall, not showing weakness. I instead focus on where I should plant the bugs. As the loud chewing continues, I can only hope and pray that they’re still in the pack of gum.

If not, I have no idea what I’ll do.

Minutes pass and no Oscar, which is not surprising because I wasn’t expecting this to be easy. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he leaves me waiting all night. This is a game to him, after all, and right now, he’s the frontrunner and will do anything to ensure it stays that way.

Finally, one of the men reappears, but without Oscar. “You wait in there.” He gestures with his chin to a small room off to the right.

Without debate, I nod and gather my bag from the floor. I’m surprised however when they allow me to venture alone. When I turn the door handle, I see why that is. Claustrophobia grips me tight because this parlor room is tiny, and it’s also stained a bright red.

The wallpaper is red. So is the velvet cloth which drapes over the fireplace. The fire burning brightly doesn’t provide any warmth. Instead, it sends a shiver down my spine. A circular red rug decorates the middle of the room, but that’s it. No furniture. Just a small red room.

How bizarre.

Once I take a cautious step inside, the door slams shut behind me, and the distinctive sound of a lock clicking in place cements my future as a prisoner inside these walls—these red walls. The small confines and the devious color crash into me, and I lunge for the handle, tugging on it frantically because I suddenly can’t breathe.

I need to get the f**k out. Now.

“Let me out!” I scream, banging on the door when the lock won’t budge. But my pleas are in vain. No one is coming to get me.

The direness to that thought has a fire burning up my neck, threatening to set my skin alight. The harder I try to escape, the more frantic I become. The crimson walls seem to grow smaller, threatening to swallow me whole.

Thoughts of being suffocated as Kenny defiles me rob me of air, and I wheeze. My breaths are heavy, echoing through my ears as the blood pumps rapidly throughout my body. My heart races so quickly, I’m frightened I’m moments away from having a heart attack.