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Before he has a chance to reprimand me, I walk toward Saint, hand in my back pocket, and press my lips to his cheek, regardless of the fact he withdraws from my touch. When my lips come away with a salty kiss, I avow to make those who hurt him pay.
Stroking his hair one last time, I reach behind him, and whisper, “You’re not alone.”
He simply hangs his head in defeat.
No matter how badly my heart breaks, I give Saint what he wants and push past Oscar, refusing to show this man weakness because he thrives on the pain. I march up the stairs, adrenaline coursing through me because I meant what I said…Saint is not alone—the bug I planted on the cross he is tied to ensures it.
Day 95
I’VE SHOWERED TWICE, but I still feel filthy. I can still smell the depravity, and I doubt it’ll ever leave me.
Leaving Saint down there was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but as much as it hurts, me being with him was causing him more pain. I’m numb, as seeing the man I love shackled and demeaned that way is something I could never put into words.
The bite marks along his neck reveal Oscar’s sick perversion has been put into play. I don’t know how far he’s taken it, but whatever he’s done, he’s broken Saint. There is only so much a man can take, and with his fragile mind, I fear he’ll be lost to the darkness for good.
I can only hope Pavel hears the agony he’s in, prompting him to step up his plan of attack because after seeing Saint, I don’t think he’ll last two weeks. And neither will I.
A soft knock on the door indicates it’s not Oscar, as he wouldn’t knock. When it opens and I see a familiar face, my blood turns cold. The last time I saw Ingrid, she was paraded around like a well-trained poodle. Just as when I saw her then, I feel sorry for her now.
There is something soft, almost naïve about her—qualities a man like Oscar preys on.
With long blonde hair and deep blue eyes, she is absolutely stunning. I can see why Alek succumbed to her charms, which is what, in a roundabout way, started this vendetta between him and Oscar. But the way he spoke about her, and the way she looked at him, it was clear feelings were involved.
She enters the room with a serene grace and softly closes the door.
I wait for her to speak because when my gaze drops to a sheer white garment in her hand, I realize she isn’t here for a casual chat.
“I know we’ve met, but I’m Ingrid,” she says in a voice barely above a whisper. Her accent is strong, but I’m not sure where she’s from.
“Hi, I’m Willow,” I reply, hating that I’m suddenly so standoffish toward her. Until I know if she’s friend or foe, I need to keep my walls in place.
“I know.” She casts her eyes downward. “Th-thank you for what you did.” When I’m silent, unsure what she means, she clarifies, “That night, you asked for clemency for Dominic and me. Thank you.”
Something inside me softens, and I instantly warm toward her. We are both prisoners, forced into a world we don’t belong.
“You don’t have to thank me.” I hope Oscar was true to his word. “Do you know if the man downstairs in the basement has been kept there for long?”
“You mean Saint?”
My heart skips a beat. “Yes. Do you know him?”
She nods, using her hair as a veil. “He was kind to me when Alek asked him to take me home.”
Alek never went into detail about his affair with Ingrid. Saint mentioned Alek exploited her and discarded her once he was done, but from the way she looked at Alek and the way she just whispered his name, I think he’s wrong.
“Is it true? Is it true you don’t know where Alek is?” she asks with a quiver to her lip as she raises her chin to look at me.
It’s evident she’s in pain, but whether I trust her or not, these walls have ears. “Yes, it’s true. I got knocked out during the explosion. When I woke up, Alek was gone.”
I can’t help but feel as if I’ve just kicked a puppy.
Ingrid’s poignant eyes fill with tears. “He must be dead,” she says, shaking her head slowly, appearing unable to accept the words as truth.
“Why? Maybe he got out.” I attempt to reassure her as I add in the last part softly, hoping it’s low enough not to be heard by the surveillance.
But she won’t accept it, and when she reveals why that is, I swallow down this constant, lingering lump in my throat when it comes to Alek. “Because he would never leave you. I saw the way he was with you. He cared for you. Deeply. I’ve never seen him that way with anyone. Even with me.”
She quickly slaps a hand over her mouth, appearing regretful for saying too much.
