My gut twists, long-engrained instincts telling me this is wrong, a decision I can’t come back from. Truthfully though…I don’t care. I now realise that this life…it means nothing compared to what’s beyond. I can dance the line between the illegal and moral all I like, but I am being judged regardless. Eden is judging me. He is judging me. Surely if I risk my business, the very thing I value above all else, for her brother, then I will be saved?

  “Start printing. Make the deal.” And so the axe falls. I made my choice. Do you see me, Lord? See that I love you above all else.

  Jase ups and exits the room, leaving me to my frantic thoughts. Yes, this is the righteous thing. Selfless. Holy.

  The smell of sulphur drifts on the breeze, creeping down the back of my throat. It’s hot, so hot. The ground burns my feet once more, and sweat trickles down my spine. I glance around, but all I can see is ash and blackened earth, charred plains for miles. And then I spot the tiniest hint of movement on the horizon.

  I walk towards it, one foot in front of the other for miles, and yet that tiny spec never seems to get any closer. My lips crack and blister, and my throat is so dry it feels like I’m inhaling fire. Eventually, I stumble, falling to my knees. My fingers sink into the searing ground, grasping at handfuls of ash. This must surely be hell? A burnt wasteland of desperation.

  “Saint?” Slowly, I lift my head, meeting the eyes of a boy. He’s young, maybe eight. His blonde hair sits atop his head in a halo of golden curls, and his face is so full of innocence. “Get up,” he pleads.

  Summoning all my strength, I push to my feet, swaying back and forth as I stare down at the child. “Who are you?” I ask.

  A smile stretches his pink lips. “You already know.” And then he points behind me.

  I turn and instantly flinch against the painfully bright light, though I already know exactly what it is. I force myself to look, to wait for my eyes to adjust.

  “Eden,” I breathe. She walks towards me, her feet sinking into the burning ash beneath her. Blonde hair spirals around her shoulders, seeming to physically glow. Her long white dress trails behind her, though the material remains unmarred by the sooty surface. A brilliant smile graces her lips, so full of kindness and love, but it’s not for me. She holds her hand out, and the child takes it.

  “You found him for me.” Her voice is like the most beautiful music.

  Stepping forward, she leans in and places her lips to my cheek. My skin warms pleasantly as though touched by sunshine on a warm spring day. Electricity crackles over the surface of my cheek, and everything is…perfect.

  When she pulls away, she takes everything good with her. My body feels cold, my soul empty.

  “Thank you.” She turns her back to me and walks away, leading the boy with her.

  “No.” I try to follow, but my legs are heavy, my body, broken.

  They disappear into the distance until she’s nothing more than a spec of light, just like the sun, completely unreachable.

  That icy feeling intensifies, the emptiness becomes a void, and it hurts. I have nothing. She left me here to die.

  I wake up, coughing and choking. My throat feels like sandpaper. I grab the glass of water from the bedside table and down it in a few large gulps. Then I get up and go to the bathroom for a refill. I drink three glasses before I feel like I can actually breathe properly.

  Once my physical state is cured, I’m left with the mental. My chest aches like something has been removed…it’s a void. The boy…it’s Otto, I know it is. I found him for her, and she left me.

  Of course, because as soon as I give her the very brother that she asked me to find, she’ll disappear. She’ll go back to her normal life as though I never existed. That’s what I want, isn’t it? To pass the test and go back to normal? But it all seems so unimportant now. To have been so close to God, touched by an angel, and then simply slip back into the bleak grey reality of daily life…

  No, I can’t.

  But I’ve already made a deal to get Otto Harris back. I just can’t give him to her… not yet. I need more time.

  18

  Saint

  I drum my fingers over the dining table, squinting against the bright light of the rising sun as I check my watch. Any minute. My pulse beats faster as anticipation infects my veins. I can’t remember ever feeling so anxious about anything.

  The ping of the elevator has my eyes snapping to the doors. Gliding open, they reveal Jase and another man; Mack, I believe his name is. Between them is a slumped figure, and each of them has one of his elbows. His head is dropped forward to his chest, and a mop of golden blonde hair falls in an unruly mess. His jeans are ripped and dirty, and his t-shirt is filthy.

  Pushing to my feet, I approach them and prop a finger under the man’s chin, tipping his head back. Correction — he really is only a boy. The softness of youth clings to him like a warm blanket, his innocence inadvertently protecting him from men like me — the men he just survived. His eyes are open but unfocused. Still, I can see they’re the same forest green as his sister’s. It unsettles me. Almost as though the eyes of God are on me through Eden and her brother.

  “He’ll be out for hours.” Jase readjusts his grip, lifting the boy higher.

  “Take him to the room.”

  Jase nods, and they drag him away, his legs trailing limply behind them. A giddy sensation flutters in my gut because I have that which Eden seeks more than anything. I feel both powerful and saved all at once.

  A few minutes later, Jase and Mack appear, and Mack gets straight in the elevator, leaving my brother and me alone.

  “Eden is not to know that we have him.”

  “What are you going to do to him?” Jase asks. There’s mild concern there, but more than that, he’s looking at me like I’m crazy. I can’t tell my brother what I’m going to do because I don’t know myself. I know that this isn’t about business, or money, or power. This is simply about Eden. Nothing else.

  “I’m not sure yet. You can go.”

  Jase rolls his eyes and saunters over to the elevator, pressing the call button. “Try not to kill him. I went to a lot of trouble getting him.”

  “I don’t kill.”

  He releases a sharp laugh under his breath. “So far…” The doors slide open, and he steps inside, bidding me farewell with nothing more than a salute. And I’m left alone in my apartment once more. Well…alone with Otto Harris. The possibilities in that are endless.

  Bang. Bang, bang. I sit up and twist my head to the side, listening. Bang, bang, bang.

  Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I stand on the cold marble floor. As I make my way through the penthouse, the sound gets louder until I’m finally standing outside the room that I’m keeping Otto in. Bang, bang, bang.

  “Let me out! Please.”

  He sounds so desperate. Broken. Weak. I wonder what the cartel did to him. Surely nothing good, but then, he’s still alive. Quite miraculous really….divine intervention. The cards stack ever in Eden’s favour.

  Stamping the code into the door, I yank it open. The boy instantly cowers back, falling on his arse on the floor. “Who are you?” he asks, his voice trembling. Tears track down his face, just like his sister.

  “My name is not important. I’m…a friend of your sister’s.”

  The tears intensify, and choking sounds emanate from his throat. “Is Eden okay?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t she be?”

  “I thought…” Another sob, and my patience starts to dwindle rapidly. “That the Bromley Brothers would think I’d run. That they might go after her…”

  “No one will touch your sister.” Except me. “She is under my protection.” By default, she is, though the biggest risk to Eden is me. She does bring out the very worst side of me.

  The boy slowly gets to his feet. “So I can go home? I’m free?”

  I fight a smile. “Freedom is a figurative term. You will be staying here for a while. For your safety.”

  His young face crumples into a despair-riddled frown. “Can I see my sister? She sent you, right?”

  “Soon. When it’s safe. You don’t want to drag her into all of this any more than she already is, do you?”

  He gnaws on his bottom lip, and I see it…she’s more like a mother to him than a sister, and when in distress, humans so often want a motherly figure. Even I can understand it to a degree, after all, my mother is one of the few people that I respect. He misses Eden. Needs her even.

  “Use any of the facilities, help yourself to food.” I gesture towards the guest bathroom and the kitchen. I’ll allow him to roam free because he cannot get out of this penthouse, short of jumping off the balcony. That, and I need to leave my options open, appear to him as a friend. If I’m his captor, then returning him to Eden will prove difficult.

  I watch him tentatively creep from the room, his eyes going wide as he takes in the penthouse. I move away, leaving him to explore.

  I don’t know what I’m going to do with him yet. My mind is caught between the rational and…Eden. She scrambles everything, tossing me into chaos and watching me flounder until nothing is clear. I know this is a test. I know I’m failing, but I don’t care.

  Over the coming days, three things become clear. Otto does, in fact, seem to be the good kid Eden described. Eden is clearly slipping further and further into despair, though I never interact with her directly because she’ll ask me about Otto, and I’ll have to lie. Lying is a sin. And lastly, her boyfriend is becoming a problem.

  Jase walks into the lounge, slamming the door behind him. “The first shipment is ready to go to the Los Carlos,” he says. “I checked it, but just in case…” He drops a wad of money down on the table.

  I pick up the perfect, cleanly printed new notes, flicking my thumb over the end. The bills flutter together, and the scent of fresh ink wafts off them. Taking the top one, I inspect it, looking closely at every detail.

  “Eden asked about Otto again today,” he says. The same way she has for the last few days. Always Jase, never me — because she never sees me. I see her though. In my club, at home, when she goes to the shops, and when she sees that boy… in my dreams. Oh, yes, I see her.

  “And what did you tell her?” I mumble, inspecting every tiny detail of the note.

  “The same thing as yesterday; we’re working on it, but the cartel isn’t easy to contact.”

  I nod. “Good.” I toss the wad of cash on the coffee table. “Perfect.” Just as I like it.

  “Great.” He takes the stack back, shoving it in the pocket of his heavy wool jacket.

  “Jase.” He looks at me. “Ensure that in future, none of our product is ever anything less than perfect.” His brows pull together, and I know he’s not happy, but I don’t care. That slip up was entirely his fault, and it cost us dearly. He knows better. I expect better. “Now, I trust that you have the Bromley Brothers in hand.”

  “Of course. Tonight—”

  “Uh, uh.” I hold up my hand, cutting him off. “No details.” Knowledge is complicity, and complicity is almost as bad as the act itself. I live with a degree of plausible deniability. If I don’t know the details of a man’s death, then I’m not culpable in the eyes of The Lord. Jase rolls his eyes, and my temper spikes dangerously. Indignation grips my throat, stilting my breath for a moment. “Something you’d like to say, Jase?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  He shakes his head, blowing a breath through his lips. “You can’t run a business half-blind, Saint.”

  I push to my feet, stalking towards him. My brother visibly stiffens, taking an involuntary step back. “Remember your place, Jase. If it weren’t for me, you’d be under our father’s wing, or should I say Judas’, peddling drugs and working with the very dregs of society. I have afforded you a position of power, but I can take it away in the blink of an eye.” His lips press tightly together, and his cheek twitches as the muscles in his jaw tense. “You’re muscle, Jase, the front required to maintain a business such as mine, but I am the brains. I am the founder of the whispers that breed fear and respect. I am what keeps us at the top of the food chain. You…are replaceable. If you are unwilling to do the job I have tasked you with, then by all means, I’m sure my father will welcome you with open arms.”

  That tick in his jaw speeds up until it’s like the fluttering of a heartbeat. “No,” he grates out.

  I thought not. If there’s one thing Jase likes, it’s money. He’s not swayed by family loyalty because he was raised outside of the family. He will go where the profit is, and the simple fact is, there’s more money in counterfeit notes than cocaine. Less competition, — it’s more niche. But there are plenty of unsavoury men willing to do disagreeable things for a lot less than the cut Jase takes.

  He wants to say something, I can see it written all over his face, but instead, he takes a slow step back, forcing space between us. Then he turns around and walks out. Good. Let him sulk. It’ll give him time to realise which side his bread is buttered.

  I don’t see Jase for the rest of the night, and I know he’s ‘handling’ the Bromley Brothers. I wait until Eden finishes her shift, watch on the security cameras as she crosses the car park and climbs into her death trap of a car. As soon as she pulls away, I leave, heading outside. Getting in my car, I make the journey to Peckham, knowing it like the back of my hand. I catch up to her after only a few minutes. Her little car chugs along, unable to move any faster than fifty miles per hour.

  When she finally reaches her destination, I pull to the side of the road rather than following her into the car park. Cutting the engine, I get out of the car and cross the street, lingering in the shadow of a broken streetlight.

  Just as he has been for the last three days, the boyfriend is waiting for her. Eden opens her door, sees him and turns around, locking the vehicle.

  A car horn blares in the distance, drowning out whatever she says to him.

  “You aren’t safe, Eden.”

  She spreads her arms wide. “I’m still alive.”

  “You’re naïve. It’s only a matter of time before this all catches up with you.”

  She tosses her head back, letting out a groan. “I’ll tell you the same thing I always tell you, Ash; I’m not your concern.” Not a boyfriend then. But something. A man doesn’t go to such lengths unless he has strong feelings. I should know.

  “Until you need something.”

  She pauses, giving him her full attention. “Fine. Then I won’t ask you for anything again.”

  He swipes a hand over his face. “No, that’s not…that’s not what I want.”

  “Jesus, what do you want?” she snaps, her voice travelling across the space clearly.

  “I want to fucking help you!” he shouts back. “I want to save you.” I almost laugh. He wants to save her, an angel — she, whose sole purpose is to save or condemn others.

  There’s a pause, and Eden stares at him. Her tense shoulders soften before she releases a sigh and moves closer to him. Lifting her hand, she places it on his face. Jealousy fires through me so hot and fast, I almost buckle under the pressure of it.

  He leans down, touching his forehead to hers, and they share something: a moment, a memory. The way she looks at him…as though he’s important. Who is he to be graced with such a look from her? She mumbles something to him, and then her lips brush the corner of his mouth, and I want to rip his head from his shoulders and tear his spine from his useless body.

  My blood pounds through my veins so hard, it’s all I can hear, thrumming against my eardrums like a train barrelling along the tracks.

  After what feels like an eternity, she steps away, and they walk together to her building. I sit there for half an hour, watching that window. The light never turns off, and I don’t see him leave. Fantasies play through my mind. I imagine walking up there and knocking on the door. I can picture the surprise on Eden’s face when she opens the door, barely having time to register my presence before I move past her and find him. In her living room. In her space. I picture walking up to him and grabbing him from behind, wrapping my arm around his throat in a chokehold. He’d struggle and fight, and I whisper to him that she’s mine, that he isn’t worthy of her, that he‘s a stain on God’s plan. Then I’d snap his spine, feeling the bones crunch, and the ligaments tear. I can almost hear that fatal last breath, slipping from his lips like a final desperate prayer.

  Blinking, I snap out of the fantasy. Control. Balance. Inhaling a deep breath, I crack my neck from side to side, trying to calm my racing heart. I need to know who he is because knowledge is power. And with power comes the ability to remove your opponents from the board.

  Eden is mine, my angel. Mine! I want her, I realise. I don’t want anyone else to touch her. I want her to look at me the way she just looked at him — as though I mean something.

  Jealousy and hate infect me like a disease, and truthfully, I didn’t think myself capable of feeling such strong emotions towards someone as inconsequential as this ‘Ash.’

  I could ask Jase who he is, and he could tell me facts, the paper trail that makes up his sinful life, but why, when I can get the intimate details, the things that no computer search can tell anyone.

  I don’t go to church the way I usually would. In fact, I haven’t been to church or prayed to the virgin in days. I don’t need it. Eden visits me in my dreams. I can’t get closer to God than her.

  When I get home, Otto is nowhere to be seen. I find him in the spare room I assigned him, sitting on the bed with his back to the door. My presence goes unnoticed for a moment, as he stares out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  When he does finally see me, he scrambles to his feet, dropping his gaze to the floor. His fingers knot in the bottom of his t-shirt nervously.

  “Saint,” he says quietly.

  “Calm down, Otto.” No one knows Eden better than Otto. I can use him. He’s a walking encyclopaedia of information. A skitter of excitement hops in my gut. Until now, I hadn’t thought of all the possibilities, all the ways I could work this to my advantage. Otto can be my Trojan horse. I will seem like a friend to him, a rescuer. In return, he can tell me about Eden. He will paint the picture of her until it is crisp and clear in my mind, and he won’t even realise what he’s doing because I will manipulate his young mind into compliance. It’s all so easy, so effortless, and yet thrilling. There is only one thing I like more than playing games with people, and that is to win them.