Authors: Arlene Brathwaite
“I’m not as young as I look.”
“And I’m not as old as I look,” Mr. Ryan said, winking.
“Forgive me,” Olivia said, “but I can’t place your face, right now. Did we ever meet?”
“Not formally, but we know of one another through a mutual friend. My name’s Josephine Delacroix, and I’ve been dying to meet you.”
Olivia’s heart dropped to her stomach.
Josephine was the only one who picked up on Olivia’s initial shock. The thing that everyone else did pick up on was the fact that neither woman had released the other’s hand.
“If it’s not too much trouble, is there some place where we can talk?” Josephine asked.
“Ah… sure.” Olivia put her clippers down and washed her hands.
“Hey, hey, you didn’t finish cutting my hair,” Mr. Ryan said.
“Grace will finish you off.”
“You know that nobody touches my head, but you.”
“Well, then, sit here until I get back.”
“What the hell—”
Olivia was escorting Josephine to her office before Mr. Ryan could get the rest of his sentence out, and before everyone else could figure out what just happened.
When Olivia closed the door behind them, it seemed like the room temperature dropped a few degrees. She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms as she sat behind her desk. “Have a seat.”
Josephine refused to sit. “If I don’t sit behind the desk or at the head of the table, I don’t sit.”
“Well then, can I get you something to drink?” Olivia started to stand.
Josephine stopped her. “I’m fine.” She looked around the office. “Is this where you spent the night with my Saint?”
“Excuse me?”
“Saint walked in here eight o’clock last night and he didn’t leave until six this morning.”
Olivia stood. “I think you better leave.”
“I think you better lose that attitude before I forget that I’m a lady.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Josephine kicked off her stilettos and walked up to her. Even with her heels off, Olivia still had to look up to her. “Don’t let that phony kick boxing class you’re taking get your ass kicked up in here.”
Olivia’s eyes widened.
“I know everything about you, and all four of your brothers.” Josephine grinned when Olivia’s stance softened. “I just want to talk.”
“Then talk.”
Josephine backed up. “I don’t know how much you know about Clayton.”
“You mean Saint Christopher?” Olivia couldn’t wipe the smug smile off her face when she saw the shocked expression on Josephine’s.
“How much do you know about him?”
“He’s lied to me so much, I don’t know what’s true and what’s not.”
“That’s my Saint.”
Olivia exhaled. Initially, she was going to tell her everything Saint shared with her just to show her that Saint had shared things with her he never shared with anyone else. At the last moment, she realized if she revealed that she knew too much, Josephine would have a bullet put in her brain.
“I didn’t come here to threaten you or cause any bad blood between us. Saint and I have a long history together. One that is stronger than blood and more precious than life. Right now, he has to do what many would call a suicide mission. In order for him to do what he has to do and survive, he can’t be distracted in anyway.”
Olivia shook her head.
“I need Saint
Christopher
to be the Saint. If he isn’t at a hundred percent, he
will
die, and that would kill me. And I refuse to be the only one losing someone dear to me. Now, what I want is simple. If you care for him at all, you will end whatever it is you think you two may have.”
Josephine’s subtle threat bit into Olivia’s soul. “What if I love him?”
“Sometimes, our love is tested by letting go of that which we love most. If you
really
love him, you will let him go.”
“Even if I wanted to let go, I have no way of contacting him.”
“I know my Saint. He will see you tonight before he leaves.” Josephine slipped her shoes back on and smiled at her. “I trust you will do the right thing.”
Olivia folded her arms and looked away.
Josephine walked to the door and opened it. “A little word of advice. Your receptionist, Miki, met a tall, light skinned man at the club last night, and she agreed to have dinner at his place tonight. Tell her to cancel. He’s raped every woman he’s ever been with.”
“And how do you know this?”
“He works for me.” Josephine exited the office.
A few minutes later, Olivia walked back to the floor.
“You okay?” Baby asked.
“Miki, you’re going out with a tall, light skinned man for dinner tonight?”
“How’d you know that?”
“Call him and cancel.”
“Why?”
Olivia walked up to her and whispered in her ear what Josephine shared with her.
Miki picked up the phone. She couldn’t dial dude’s number fast enough.
“Hey,” Mr. Ryan called out to Olivia as she headed toward the front door.
“Not now,” Olivia said, without looking back.
Josephine controlled her breathing as she got ten feet within her car. Van climbed out the back seat and ran to her. Josephine collapsed in his arms.
“You should’ve never come here, you’re wound isn’t fully healed,” he hissed. “I could’ve taken care of this myself.”
Josephine shushed him as he helped her into the back seat.
“Take us to the hotel,” he said to their driver.
Josephine reached for the handkerchief in his shirt pocket, and dabbed her forehead with it. “I had to come,” she said weakly. “I had to see her for myself. Had to let her see me, make her feel my words.”
Van opened a bottle of water and put it to her lips.
She took a couple sips. “Are you one hundred percent sure, Saint didn’t see you tailing him?”
“I’m a hundred and ten percent sure.”
Josephine stared at him.
“If he knew I was following him, would he have led me here last night or to her house this morning?”
“I’m too close. I can’t afford any mistakes.”
“I don’t make mistakes.”
“Neither does he.”
“You should’ve let me take him out when I had the chance.”
Josephine put her finger to his lips. “I can’t let anything happen to you. When this is over, you will be my new Saint.”
Van beamed with pride.
Josephine laid her head back on the headrest and stared out the window. No matter how many men she’d been with, she only loved Saint. She didn’t care where she was or who she was with, whenever he called, she was there. That was their understanding.
When she hired the female assassin to go after him, it wasn’t to kill him. She only wanted to test his love for her.
“Seduce him,” she remembered telling her. “Do what you have to do to make him fall in love with you.”
“And then what?” the assassin asked.
Josephine didn’t answer her then and there because she knew her Saint. She knew he would pass the test. He could never love another.
“I’ve been seeing someone,” she remembered him telling her one night. “She’s incredible. She might be the one.”
“The one? What are you talking about?” Josephine asked him.
“I think I may be falling for her.”
It was five years ago, but the pain she felt in her heart now, just thinking about it was just as sharp as it was five years ago. “Do you love her?”
“I think I’m starting to.”
“But you love me?”
“Yes, but our love is different.”
It took every fiber of her being to maintain her composure that night. As soon as he left her Villa, she called the assassin, and in blind rage, gave her the order to kill him. She wanted her to stab him through the heart.
“Josephine are you okay?” Van asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She had poured her heart out to Saint in the dentist office. She wanted to leave her life of stress and just disappear. The only thing she didn’t tell him that day in the safe house was when he killed Marion Claude, she wanted the both of them to disappear, and live a simple life together, the way they did at the covenant.
When Van called her at the hotel last night and told her that he followed Saint to the salon and he didn’t emerge until the crack of dawn, she knew Saint loved Olivia. And when she looked into Olivia’s eyes, she knew she loved him, as well. He betrayed her once again. This time, his living will not be an option.
When Olivia left the salon, she went straight to the precinct to see her brother. Josephine had put the fear of God in her. Saint, Josephine, Marion Claude, Petrescu, she finally realized just how dangerous they were. Mike had offered to get a cop car posted outside of her house, but she refused. She just wanted to put him on point. They agreed that they should all get together at the salon tomorrow afternoon and figure out what the next move should be. Now, she laid in her bed, wide awake. Josephine said Saint was leaving tonight, and that he would be by to see her.
She loved him, but as much as it hurt her to admit, she could never be with him. They could never have a normal life together. Saint would forever have to look over his shoulder. She jumped when the phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. When she didn’t recognize the number, she got butterflies in her stomach. She let it ring six times before picking it up.
“Hello.”
“Before you hang up, give me a chance to apologize for the way I came at you this morning.”
Hearing his voice gave her goose bumps.
“Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No.”
“I should be doing this face to face. I’m coming over.”
“Where are you?”
The door bell rang.
“At your front door.”
Olivia sprung out of bed and reached for the pair of jeans she threw on her chair earlier. She then put on one of her oversized sweaters, and then pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
When she opened the front door, she barely recognized the man standing in front of her.
Saint was dressed in all black. He was wearing an unzipped, three-quarter lambskin jacket. Under it, he had on a double-zip merino sweater and a pair of wool, pinstriped slacks. His loafers were calfskin, and his glasses were a pair of gold filled titanium with onyx flecks. He dyed his hair and beard, giving them a salt and pepper look.
“Can I come in?”
His eyes were dark brown, his face rounder, and the gap between his front teeth was gone.
She moved to the side to let him in. “You’re leaving tonight, I see,” she said, eyeing the leather weekend bag he was holding.
“Yes.”
“Nice disguise. You look like a middle aged corporate executive going on a business trip. If we were on the same plane, sitting next to each other, I wouldn’t even recognize you.”
“Sure you would. No matter how hard we try, we can never fool those who are closest to us.”
Olivia turned her head.
He placed his bag on the floor and took a step toward her. “You asked me about the scar on my chest last night.”
“And you refused to talk about it.” She knew the story from Glenn, but she wanted to hear it from him.
“There was a woman… before
Her
, I was only with one woman.”
“Josephine.”
“Yes. I should’ve known that Josephine was testing me. She was always testing people’s loyalty to her, especially mine. The way Candice and I met, I just knew there was no way Josephine could be setting me up.”
“How did you meet?”
“At a café in France. One that I’ve never been to before. I just walked in to grab a cup of coffee. She was a waitress. At least that’s what I thought at the time. I did a thorough background check on her and everything checked out. But of course it would. Josephine never did anything half ass. To make a long story short, I fell in love with her. When I told Josephine that I was thinking of retiring from our criminal lifestyle and settling down, she hugged me and told me she was proud of the man I’d become.” Saint closed his eyes as he tried to swallow the pain swelling in his throat. “She even helped me pick out the ring.”
“A ring?”
“I was going to ask Candice to marry me.”
Olivia was blown away. Glenn didn’t share that piece of information.
“A few nights later, at my flat, I proposed to her and she accepted. We celebrated, we… made love, and the moment I let my guard down, in that fraction of a second, Candice was driving a knife into my chest.” Saint’s voice had changed to a deadly whisper, as tears of rage came to his eyes.
Olivia reached out to touch him. She pulled her hand back when he shrank back from her.
“I vowed to never love anyone like that again.” He said something in French. A phrase that Olivia remembered from Las Vegas.