From the moment I spotted him on the side of the road, I knew he was trouble.
Now Im kneeling at the mercy of a masked devil with my boyfriends blood on my hands.
He tells me to call him Saint because he saved me that I should be thankful he spared me a worse fate.
Im tempted to fight him or bargain. But when Saint tells me to run, a twisted part of me wonders if hell chase.
