Page 65 of Saving Saul

“Yes, we’ll be there.”

I doubt it.

As soon asthe door closes, Saul turns to me, his hands cupping my face as his lips crash into mine. The kiss is fierce and consuming as if he’s trying to pull every ounce of reassurance and connection from the moment. When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless, the world spinning around us.

“Did you kill him?” I ask, panting. “ Did you kill Antoine?”

Saul grabs the back of my neck and rubs his thumb up and down my nape. “ Now, how would I have done that, sweetheart? I’ve been with you all night?”

I narrow my eyes, “ You know what I mean, Saul. If this is going to work, you can’t keep secrets from me. Did you have anything to do with Antoine’s death?”

He takes a deep breath and squeezes my neck tighter. “I swear, my love, I had nothing to do with his death. But I have a feeling Cecil might have. Antoine Dupree was dirty and had a terrible gambling problem. He owed Cecil money. From what I’ve witnessed working at Crescent Hall, owing Cecil is not conducive to living a long life.”

I search his eyes, find the truth, and nod.

“Well, why do we still need to run if he’s dead?”

Saul cocks his head and watches me intently. “Because, love, they still suspect me. They want to question me; they are watching me. It’s too hot here; I need to lay low in my own country for a while. And I need you with me. My sister is now in London at Oxford, but my grandmother is in Accra, and I want you to meet her.”

I lay my head on his chest.He’s right.

“Call your sister and Grandmère,” he says, his voice firm but soft around the edges. “Go home, pack a light bag, andtie up whatever loose ends you need. We’re leaving for Africa tomorrow at 2:00 am. You can explain everything to them both on the way.”

I grab his arm, my eyes wide with lingering fear and disbelief. “Wait—what do you think happened to Antoine?”

Saul’s dark eyes search mine, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. His hands frame my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks as he answers. “I don’t know, love. Stranger things have happened at Crescent Hall, and you know as well as I do that someone dies or disappears there every year. Maybe it was the ancestors. Maybe it’s Cecil. But this is our way out, and I think we should take it.”

He pauses, his gaze steady and unyielding. “We don’t have to tell your sister or Grandmère about Patrick or anything else that could implicate them. Just let them know you’re starting a new life in Accra for a while. Do you think they’ll come with us?”

Hell no.

I shake my head, a sigh escaping my lips. “My Grandmère is too old to make a move like that, plus she’ll be excited by this turn of events. She’ll shoo me to the plane faster than you will.”

“Selene won’t leave, but she won’t want me going anywhere. But I can keep her calm. Just give me a few hours to get everything in order. I’ll go with you anywhere, Saul, anywhere on this earth. But I need to talk to Selene first. In person.”

His hands tighten on my face, a flash of vulnerability breaking through his usual composure. “You won’t let her change your mind, will you?” His voice shakes, the words thick with raw fear.

I kiss his mouth, lingering until I feel him relax beneath my touch. “No, dear,” I whisper against his lips. “No one can keep me away from you. Can you trust me?”

It takes him a long, tense moment to answer, his gaze boring into mine as if searching for an unshakable truth. Finally, he nods, his voice low and resolute.

“With my life, love. I’d trust you with my life.”

SAYING GOODBYE

TESSA

I pressmy palm against the hard planes of Saul’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my fingers—a rhythm that both calms and terrifies me. We stand shrouded in the dark on the porch of his cabin, the night air thick with warning, the faint scent of cedar and lake water swirling around us.

“You need to be careful,” I whisper, my voice low but insistent. The urgency laces each word like an invisible thread tugging between us. His eyes lock on mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths—fear, resolve, and something deeper and unspoken.

He nods, the motion slow and reluctant, as if each movement costs him something. “You shouldn’t be moving around the city too much,” I continue, my tone firm even as my insides twist. “Stay here. Get everything ready for our trip. I’ll go home, pack what I need, and talk to Selene.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond; he stares at me like he’s memorizing my face, burning the image into his mind. Finally, with a sharp breath, he picks up his phone and briefly growls an order—his movements brisk, almost mechanical. I know he’s agreeing, but his wariness wears on his face.

When he steps back, the space he creates feels like an eternity, an ache that stretches wider than the porch we’re standing on.

“Be safe,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me and settles deep in my chest.

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