by Monica James
The feel of his hands on me is indescribable. “What are we going to do?” I whisper, rubbing my nose against his.
He inhales deeply, and this close to him, I can almost forget our troubles. When we’re this way, nothing else matters. “I don’t know yet. I have to talk to Popov and figure out his game plan. He knows something is going on between us.”
His admission has me drawing back to look him dead in the eye. “And what’s that?” I don’t even know what this is between us. I never have. Maybe he can explain it to me.
But when he shakes his head, it seems he’s just as confused as I am.
“Just trust me, ангел.”
Closing my eyes briefly, I savor the way the nickname rolls from his tongue. I can almost forget the way it sounded when Popov spoke it.
“I may have to do some things you won’t like.”
“Like what?” My heart begins to race.
“I just need you to trust me,” he repeats, squeezing my nape softly.
With a hesitant touch, I place my hand over his, threading our fingers together. When he doesn’t shy away, I sigh in relief. “Okay. I trust you.”
We stay this way, both needing a moment to center and prepare ourselves for what’s ahead. “Go shower. I’ll take this bullet out.”
The mention of his injury has me pulling away, attempting to tend to his wound. But Saint presses his hand over mine, right over the bullet hole, and simply stares at me. Who knew a look could convey a thousand words?
On instinct, my gaze drops to his lips. I want to kiss him. So badly. I want to stop feeling this constant fear and just lose myself in something that isn’t swathed in darkness and gloom. But Saint releases me, putting an end to that train of thoughts.
“I wasn’t lying when I said it’s just a flesh wound. I can manage.”
With a deep sigh, I know there is no point in pressing because he’s made up his mind.
He goes on the hunt for a first-aid kit while I decide the thought of taking a real shower after all this time is too incredible to pass up. Without hesitation, I slip the green dress over my head and reach around my back to unhook my bra.
When it falls to the floor, I slip my thumbs into the waistband of my underwear but pause when I realize Saint is watching me. He’s found a first-aid kit, but his bullet wound seems the least of his worries as he stands unmoving, focusing his animated eyes on my body.
My nipples instantly pearl, and my breasts tighten.
He places the kit on the counter, then walks over to me at a languid pace as his gaze peruses every inch of my skin. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to touch you again.” He places his palm against the side of my neck, cupping it gently. “And it kills me inside.”
I’m too afraid to move because if I do, I will smash my lips to his and beg he consume me while we have the chance.
“I want you, ангел.” He slides his hand down my throat and it comes to rest on my chest over my heart.
My knees buckle, and my sex clenches. His overwhelming honesty leaves me at a loss for words.
“I haven’t wanted anything more in my life. But no matter how much I want you.” There’s always a but. “I won’t drag you into this mess. I will get you out of here. I promise.”
He can feel the thrashing of my heart under his palm. “What about you?” I’m not stupid. The likelihood of us both getting out of this unscathed seems impossible.
He smirks something wicked, causing my chest to heave as I’m suddenly short of breath. “You let me worry about me.”
“Saint…” But all conversation ends when he leans forward and suckles over my thundering pulse.
“I want to mark you. Like a fucking caveman, I want to rub my scent all over you.”
My eyes roll to the back of my head because him rubbing me anywhere sounds like a brilliant idea. He’s doing this to distract me, and it almost works.
“You have a gun. You’re a good shot.”
He hums against the column of my throat, sending an electrical current all the way to my toes. “Too much is at stake.”
“What could possibly mean more to you than your life? Your freedom?” I question, refusing to surrender to the glide of his lips.
Saint kisses downward, licking a path from my neck to the top of my breasts. I arch into him, looping my fingers through his mussed hair and moaning softly. When he takes a nipple into his mouth, I see stars. But I persevere.
“Tell me.”
He circles my areola, sucking my breast with a desperate hunger.
As far as distractions go, this is absolutely amazing, but I need to know what he has planned. Does he still intend to save Zoey? And if so, how, seeing as I was the bargaining chip?
But when my nipple pops free and Saint walks us backward until my ass hits the basin, I suddenly wish I’d kept my mouth shut because his reply changes everything.
“You.”
My mouth hangs open as I’m at a loss for words. A simple word has just changed the course of it all.
I want to say so many things, but Saint presses a kiss to my cheek, then reaches for the kit, leaving me a wanton, needy mess.
When he opens the kit and yanks out a pair of scissors, I pale and make my way to the shower. Slipping out of my underwear, I turn on the faucets and stand under the warm spray. I’ve dreamed about this moment for weeks, but it suddenly falls short of my expectations because I’m distracted.
What happens next? But most importantly, what will I do to ensure Saint and I get off this boat together? As I remember his touches and get lost in his words, I know that I will do anything. Anything at all.
Even sell my soul…to the devil himself.
I’ve procrastinated long enough. It’s time to face the inevitable.
Once Saint removed the bullet and bandaged himself up, he said he was going to talk to Aleksei. I wanted to go with him, but I know they have much to discuss. Alone.
I understand Saint and I will have to be careful, knowing Aleksei will use whatever this thing is between us as leverage. Just as he used Zoey as collateral to Saint.
When Saint protected me on the island by standing in front of me when Zoey pointed her gun, he no doubt clued Aleksei in. But knowing Saint, he will play it off as something else. We both have to watch our backs. Not only from Aleksei but also Zoey. She is a loaded gun, and I’m afraid of what she’ll do next.
A banging on the door alerts me that my time is up.
I found a change of clothes on the marble counter when I exited the shower. The fiery red dress seems a little inappropriate, but I needed something to cover the barely there lace underwear set accompanying it.
Having everything in my size creeps me out, as it means Aleksei was preparing for my “homecoming.” I wonder what else he has in store for me.
When the thumping sounds once again, I look in the mirror and take three calming breaths. I raided the drawers for a weapon, but all I found were toiletries and the makeup I used to keep from resembling the living dead.
However, I remember the scissors in the first-aid kit and quickly lunge for them. Without much choice on where to stash them, I lift the hem of my dress and tuck them into the waistband of my underwear. Even though it’s not ideal, having them gives me a sense of security. No matter how false that may be.
Just as I’m straightening my dress, the door bursts open, and one of Aleksei’s men appears. He seems disappointed when I brush past him. I think he expected a fight or for me to be lying in a pool of my own blood.
Putting my game face on, I walk out into the dining area, ignoring the glares from Aleksei’s goons. When I don’t see Saint anywhere in sight, I decide to go up onto the upper deck to find him. But Adrian has other ideas when he blocks my path.
“Boss said you stay down here.”
Just as his brother did, he makes my skin crawl. However, while Kazimir wanted to defile me, I get the sense Adrian wants to defile my insides as he murders me.
Without bothering t
o argue, I walk over to a bench seat, away from my captors, and turn my back to them to look out the window. I still have no idea where we are, but I’m not worried about the journey. The final destination and what’s in store for me when we arrive in Russia are what have me lifting the hair off my neck and twisting it into a high topknot. I’m burning up in panic.
When the room falls silent, though, I wonder if I’ll even make it to Russia. If Zoey has her way, I’ll be overboard come nightfall. The men mumble under their breath, clearly hoping to see a catfight when Zoey marches down the stairs. But I am not competition. She can have Aleksei.
The fridge opens, and the sound of a water bottle opening cuts through the static. I keep my eyes up front because even though I would give my right arm for a sip of cold water, I remain quiet. Zoey, however, doesn’t share the sentiment.
When her bare feet pad across the floor, announcing her arrival, I brace myself for World War III.
“You may have my brother fooled, and Alek may be excited with the shiny new toy”—I curl my hands into tight fists to stop myself from slapping her—“but make no mistake, I am always going to be their number one.”
I couldn’t care less about Aleksei. But what she says about Saint turns my stomach.
“Know your place and we won’t have a problem because my brother will always put me first. Don’t you ever forget it.”
Unable to hold my tongue any longer, I turn over my shoulder, pinning her with a glower of my own. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Zoey’s bowed lips tip into a malicious grin. “It means if you even think about taking Alek away from me, I will give my brother what he’s always wanted. The sweet, innocent sister he still thinks I am.”
Wide-eyed, I gape at her.
“The fact he protected you means you’ve gotten under his skin. But it’ll only take some tears and hollow promises of going home for his protective big brother mode to kick in. I will wedge a wall between you by filling his head with insecurities, like he isn’t the only man you want, and he’ll believe me because he doesn’t see himself as good enough for someone like you. Then he won’t be so quick to protect you when I kill you with my fucking bare hands.”
I thought I’d seen it all. I was wrong.
She steps forward, and with nowhere to go, I turn around to face her. “I will lie, cheat, and kill to get you out of my life. So if that means lying to my brother, then so be it. I know Saint. Even though he’s loyal, his jealousy will make him weak.”
“And what are you then?” I spit, refusing to back down. “Isn’t this little pep talk because you’re frightened Aleksei will throw your sorry ass to the curb?”
Furious, she advances forward but then abruptly stops and takes a calming breath. “I’m the person you don’t want to fuck with,” she threatens. “You may think you’re safe with Saint here, but he has to sleep. And if I don’t get to you first, the other men on this yacht will.”
“I don’t want Aleksei,” I clarify in case she missed the memo. She simply chuckles, and it’s not a pleasant sound.
“That’s what they all say. But Aleksei is like heroin.” Her face turns tranquil while I wonder where she’s going with this analogy. “You become hooked with the very first taste, and you don’t know you’re addicted until it’s too late. All you need is a little bump to get you through the day, but before long, you can’t survive without it.”
“Lucky for me,” I say, coming to a slow stand, “I’ve always said no to drugs.”
Zoey looks surprised by my wit. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” She’s a few inches shorter than I am, but like her brother, she oozes control. “Isn’t Saint your heroin?”
My cheeks instantly blister because she’s caught me off guard. But I squash down my embarrassment. “If you think that, then why are you so concerned I will come between you and Aleksei?”
She takes another step forward, almost pressing her nose to mine. “Because he will worm his way into your soul and make you forget a life before him existed. Believe me, I know.” When she traces over the track marks on her arm, I almost feel sorry for her.
“I don’t want to be here. I hate him,” I spit, wanting to make that very clear.
But she reveals just whose show this is. “Didn’t you hate my brother as well?” My silence says it all.
I don’t know how she can tell, but she’s right. And she knows it. And then she says the most frightening thing she could ever say.
“Who do you think taught him everything he knows? So just as you once hated Saint, you may hate Aleksei now, but sooner or later”—she rips the air from my lungs when she presses her lips to mine and whispers—“he will become your heroin too.”
She seals my fate with a chaste kiss—the kiss of death.
She pulls away with a smug smile because she’s won this battle. I’m too shell-shocked to move and watch with wide eyes as she saunters away from me. My knees threaten to buckle, so I slump onto the seat, needing a minute to catch my breath.
What the hell just happened?
Zoey has struck a nerve because she’s right about Saint. I did hate him, and now…I don’t. But Saint is nothing like Aleksei.
“Who do you think taught him everything he knows?”
Zoey’s words haunt me.
A master manipulator, Aleksei clearly loves to play mind games with people. But so does Zoey. She made it clear she would put Saint against me if I didn’t play by her rules. I want to think he’d see through her lies, but knowing she’s the reason he’s done all this, I’m not so sure.
But the fact she thinks I would ever feel anything other than utter hatred toward Aleksei reveals that I’m stronger than she is. He may try to fool me, but you can only fool me once, and Drew was a lesson learned. And I will never be like Zoey—hooked on the most potent drug of them all.
“He will be your tormenter, but he will also be the person who makes the pain go away.”
Saint’s words echo loudly in my head, seeming to confirm what Zoey just said. Suddenly, I’m more fearful for my soul than my virtue. And when I hear Aleksei’s voice, my body breaks out into a cold sweat.
Saint walks down the stairs, instantly seeking me out. When he sees me stooped over, he raises a brow but quickly shrouds any emotion when Aleksei trails him. His men stop what they’re doing, some even standing at attention, while Zoey leans against the wall watching me.
Taking a deep breath, I won’t allow her words to affect me. I need to have a clear head because it’s the only way I’ll survive this.
“I almost didn’t recognize you.” I know he’s talking to me, but I can’t look at him. The scissors burn my flesh, screaming at me to use them against this vile man. When his shoes come into view, my breathing mounts, no matter how hard I try to keep calm.
“After everything you’ve been through, you must be exhausted. Saint told me that for most nights, you slept outdoors?” Hearing his name has me lifting my eyes to meet Aleksei’s gaze.
I don’t know what he expects of me, so I simply nod once.
“Now that doesn’t sound very comfortable.”
Neither is being held against your will, you asshole, I think to myself.
“Well, hearing all about your adventures has left me tired. I’m going to have a lie down.”
I exhale in relief, but it’s in vain.
When Zoey pushes off the wall, no doubt armed and ready to ease all the fatigue from his loins, Aleksei stuns us all. “You can stay here, Zoey. I don’t require your presence. Willow?”
Even though I’ve just heard my name and see his extended hand, my brain can’t comprehend that he requires my presence. Every part of my body protests, beseeching I don’t follow the lion into his den.
But what choice do I have?
I’m thankful I haven’t eaten because when I slip my hand into his, the need to throw up almost winds me. His hand is warm, soft, but when I think of all the lives these hands have destroyed, Saint’s included, it turns cold.
Standing, I attempt to pry my hand from his, but he holds on tight. I’m a true prisoner.
When we turn around, I want more than anything to make eye contact with Saint, but he stares straight ahead, his jaw clenched and his eyes cold. Zoey, though, doesn’t mask her emotions as well as her brother. She looks seconds away from ripping out my spleen.
Aleksei doesn’t seem bothered by anyone as he leads me toward a door, a door which no doubt leads to his bedroom.
This is my last chance to make a run for it. But when I look at a rigid Saint, it’s clear we’re all prisoners and pawns in Aleksei’s game. I follow him with my chin downturned in shame. Memories of being face first against that dirty carpet with Kenny’s heavy weight pressing into me rob me of air, but I squash the memories down because I refuse to be a victim again.
Aleksei opens the door, leading me into an elegant bedroom draped in gold velvet and silk. Turning around quickly, I lock eyes with Saint, and his tormented expression tears a hole straight through me. Aleksei closes the door but not before Saint steps forward, primed on saving me as he always has.
Aleksei leans against the locked door, a reptilian smile spreading from cheek to cheek. I back up, only for my legs to hit the king-sized bed. He watches me with hunger. “I think it’s time we got to know one another without all the…distraction.”
Distraction? He means Saint.
I gulp, the walls closing in on me.
Feeling behind me, I walk my way slowly around the bed, never taking my eyes off Aleksei as I cower in the furthest corner of the room. He watches on amused, a true cat and mouse game.
“And to do that, I need to see you.”
My heart begins to pound against my rib cage. “You can see me just fine now.”
Aleksei’s animated laughter slashes the air. “Suit yourself.”
When he pushes off the door, I frantically scan the room from left to right, searching for an escape route. But the man intent on trapping me forever has blocked my only way out.