Page 73 of Saint

Even though she should be getting the fuck out of there as fast as humanly possible, she hesitated. A memory of Brax saving her when she’d almost died triggered a moment of conscience. Guilt swept through her. She owed him. Even if he didn’t remember—and he probably did because the man had a memory like an elephant—she did.

“Fuck me.” Even though it usually ended up getting her in trouble, she’d always had a warped sense of loyalty and believed in paying back a debt. She couldn’t let him walk into the trap. She had to save him.

Then he’d be fair game.

Yanking her keys out of her leather jacket pocket, she slid into the unlocked Ford Explorer and started the engine. Brax would hear it and come after her, exactly like she wanted him to so she could draw him away from the tripwire.

Hitting the gas, she swerved out of the parking spot, determined to cut him off. Sure, she’d probably have to hit him to do it, but he was tough. He’d bounce right off the car and then try to follow her when she left through the nearest exit.

Then her debt would be paid and all bets were off.

???

The roar of a car’s engine filled the air and Brax paused mid-step. He was approaching the rear corner of the garage, planning to sneak around his target, but hesitated. No one else was in there this late, so it must be her.

Was she done playing and now planning to escape?

Over his dead body.

Racing out from between two parked cars, he skidded to a halt out in the open. A Ford Explorer peeled around the corner and came barreling straight at him. His reflexes were fast, but the SUV was faster.

There wasn’t enough time to jump out of the way. Right before the vehicle hit him, he hopped up, slamming against the hood, and looked through the windshield at the driver.

Time seemed to freeze as familiar sage green eyes met his.Quinn.

A second later, she slammed on the brakes. He lost his grip, rolled off the hood and landed hard on his shoulder. Lying on the ground, at eye level with a glowing green light, he frowned. It was a tripwire, and he’d almost crossed it.

Nice try, Quinn.

Scrambling up, he jogged away from the wire. The Explorer stopped at the exit, as though waiting for him. Or maybe she wanted to see him get blown to smithereens. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He was surprised, however, when a loud beep filled the air, signaling his fuck-up. Looking down, Brax saw a second tripwire cleverly concealed in the shadows. And he’d just crossed it.

Fuck.

An explosive detonated frighteningly close, singing his right side, as he launched himself over the concrete wall, flying through the air and landing in an unceremonious heap in the bushes.

Explosion after explosion rocked the structure behind him as Brax shoved through prickly branches. Standing up on wobbly legs, he moved farther away from the burning garage. The Explorer peeled away down the street, disappearing from sight.

Releasing a shaky breath, he looked down at his burned right hand. He knew he was lucky to be alive. That had been far too close. Turning back around, he watched the orange and red flames lick upward, glowing against the black sky. Inside the garage, another explosion ricocheted off the walls.

Cradling his burned hand, Braxton cursed his ex-wife.

Quinn Graves was going down.

Epilogue

Saint had become a man on a mission. Once he’d been able to finally tell Mia he loved her, he couldn’t stop saying it. Making her his forever became his top priority, and the last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind. He’d married his kitten faster than you could say “Vegas wedding.”

After the party, he’d made love to her throughout the night, whispering endless promises in her ear. Waking up, he’d never felt more satisfied in his life. The woman lightly snoring on his chest was his everything. She had helped him heal and opened him up to a future he never thought possible. At least, not for a guy like him.

Mia made sure he knew he was worthy. After years of believing he was worthless, her faith in him—the pure love in her eyes when she looked at him—meant more than he could express.

He watched her sleep, slowly stroking a hand up and down her bare back. It wasn’t long before those gorgeous azure eyes opened and she smiled sleepily.

“Good morning, Mrs. Vasilevsky,” he murmured and dropped a kiss on her lips.

She stretched lazily then sat up, pulling the sheet with her, tucking it under her breasts. “Good morning, Mr. Vasilevsky. Your friends sure know how to throw a party.”