The service stairwell.
I start down. The stairs seem endless. My vision swims. I haven't eaten in days, and I just killed someone and my body is giving out.
I grip the railing. Force myself to keep moving.
One floor. Two.
I can hear sirens everywhere now. Fire trucks. Police. Chaos outside.
Finally, the bottom. A door leading to an alley.
I push through it.
Saint is there. Waiting.
His eyes go immediately to me. To the blood covering me. To my shaking hands.
To Alexei's blood dried on my face.
"Fuck," he breathes.
"He was touching me, trying to—" I swallow. "I shouldn't have come, but he wouldn't stop fucking calling me." I take a deep breath. "I just—I didn't plan this. I just..."
"Don't." He moves to me. Takes my arm. Supports my weight. "You did what you had to do."
"But I?—"
"You survived. That's all that matters." He looks at my hands. Sees the cuts across my palms. His jaw tightens. "Christ, Gemma."
"The letter opener slipped. I didn't?—"
"Come on. We need to move."
A car is waiting. Black SUV. Windows tinted.
Saint helps me into the back seat. I can barely climb in. He has to practically lift me.
He gets in after me.
"Drive."
The car moves immediately.
I sit there. Shaking. Blood drying on my skin. On my clothes. Everywhere. My hands sting. My legs won't stop trembling.
Saint pulls out his phone. "We're clear. Yeah, she's with me." A pause. "How long for cleanup?" Another pause. "And the body?" He's quiet, listening. "That's going to be complicated... Yeah, I know. We'll deal with the fallout when it comes. One crisis at a time." He glances at me. "Yeah, we're going to the safe house. I'll call you in an hour."
He hangs up.
"Safe house?" I ask. "Why aren't we going to the compound?"
"Can't take you back to the compound looking like this. Staff would talk." He looks at me. Really looks at me. "We'll get you cleaned up. Get rid of the clothes. Then we'll figure out next steps."
"Next steps?"
"Alexei's men will want answers. There's going to be a power vacuum." Saint stops. "Fuck."
"He doesn't have an heir?"
