Ruthless Saints

I drive back to my place, and when I walk into the house, it’s quiet. Alexei and Demitri are probably in the armory.

I carry the bags to the guest room, and seeing Hailey is fast asleep, I move as quietly as I can so I don’t wake her. I unpack all the clothes into the closet and set the framed photo of Hailey’s parents down on the bedside table.

Leaning against the wall next to the bed, I stare down at her sleeping face.

Please find a way to forgive me.

Slowly, I move down until I’m sitting on the floor. With my legs bent at the knees, I rest my arms on them, my eyes glued to Hailey.

Taking in the fading bruises on her face, the memories of the attack ripple through my mind, and I close my eyes against the images of Hailey being beaten. Lifting my hands, I cover my face as the sounds of her choking and whimpering begin to haunt me for the millionth time.

I’ll never forget it.

The regret eats away at what’s left of my soul.

Hearing her struggle to breathe. I try to shake the memory, but it digs its claws into me until my body begins to tremble.

I move my hands to my hair, lowering my head as the guilt bears down on my shoulders.

While Hailey finds peace in her sleep, the memories lash at me with brutal force.

When the sun begins to set, I hear Hailey whimper. My head snaps up, and I dart to my feet. She’s still asleep, but it’s restless, her features tight with fear.

Leaning over her, I whisper, “You’re safe, baby.”

Her hand lifts, slapping against my chest, and then her fingers grab a fist full of my shirt. Slowly, I sit down, and I press a kiss to her forehead. I wish I could follow her to her dreams to keep the nightmares from coming.

Hailey turns her body toward me, letting out a soft groan. Releasing my shirt, she curls closer until her face presses against the side of my leg. I move my hand to her hair and tenderly pull my fingers through the strands, knowing she loves when I do it.

She seems to settle, and I remain frozen, taking every second I can get to be this close to her.

The urge to lie down and wrap her up in my arms almost overwhelms me, but I keep still, not wanting to wake her. Because then she’ll pull away again, and I just need this for a little longer.

Alexei comes to check on Hailey and watches us for a couple of seconds before he leaves again.

My eyes caress every inch of Hailey’s face, my fingers relishing in the feel of her silky hair. She lifts her arm and wraps it around my leg, holding onto me.

Don’t fight us. We belong together.

I let out a sigh, not so sure whether I’m going to win this fight. I already know what the next question from Hailey will be, and I dread answering it.

Why don’t I stop being an assassin?

I’ll have to explain to her the day I retire is the day I die. If you don’t remain active, you become an easy target. I have too many enemies to leave the underbelly of crime. I’m too deep in.

Also, she’ll forever be linked to me. Even if she leaves me, I’ll never stop watching her. Not only because I can’t let her go, but because I need to keep her safe.

She’s already in my world, her light struggling to shine with the darkness closing in around her.

I’m so fucking sorry you met me, but I wouldn’t change it. Not if it means never getting to see your smile or hear you laugh. I’m sorry I’m such a selfish bastard.

HAILEY

Waking up in the early hours of the morning, the first thing I become aware of is that I’m holding onto something, and it’s not a pillow.

Slowly I pull back, and glancing up, it’s to find Carson staring down at me. I was clinging to his thigh.

Even in my sleep, I still gravitate toward him.

My eyes drift over his face, and I notice how tired he looks. “Did you sit here all night?”

“You were restless.”

Since I’ve stopped taking the painkillers, the nightmares have started. It’s disjointed memories of that night.

He sat with me.

For a moment, my heart thaws, but then I force myself to remember who he is.

His fingers brush over my hair, and my body savors the touch while my mind rebels against it.

It’s becoming a constant war.

Carson stands up. “I’m just going to shower, then I’ll make you something to eat.”

Slowly, I pull myself up into a sitting position, my chest protesting and begging for a pain killer.

“Will you take something for the pain after you’ve eaten?” he asks.

I shake my head, not wanting any kind of drug from him.