Page 119 of Taint My Soul

“Yes, I’d like that.” He pulls me closer. For some time, we eat in silence. I try to relax with my body in his arms, even though what’s about to happen is unavoidable. Hell, I’m surprised he listened to me earlier and would wait until we finished eating.

I loved that.

After we finish, he sets the trays aside and faces me, taking my hands gently. “Are you ready?”

“Not really, but go on…” I give him a nod and prepare for the sting of the memory. I have never talked about what I have experienced at all. I have only put my feelings away and moved on. It feels odd sitting here with Saint. Weeks ago, he wouldn’t even admit how much he wanted me or the feelings he had for me.

“Last night, while you were asleep. I met up with Ali. I hired him while we were at Genesis together.” He states, voice calm and firm. “First, I’d like to say that Vincent and Neo have been captured. They’ll never hurt you again.”

A rush of relief moves through me, so intensely that my body trembles. Tears gather in the lower lids of my irises, and I tighten my hand around him.

“I also learned how you signed the contract. How you never wanted to be there.”

The tears roll down my cheeks. Trailing hot. His voice drops, and he rubs my hands with his thumbs.

“Saint…”

“I’m sorry. If I had known that you never wanted to be there, I wouldn’t have touched you.”

“You asked if I was okay. I said yes.” I look up at him, my eyes red from the ache sitting in my chest. He’s being my safe space in this moment, and I really appreciate it, even though it feels foreign.

“You never had a choice.” His voice shakes. “Your uncle exploited your sexuality for his own gain. But it’s over. You don’t have to worry about him. Once I find him, I’d get rid of him.” He inhales sharply and looks at me. “Hey, baby.” His voice is firm and soft. “I want you to always feel comfortable with me. I’m not the best man in the room when it comes to intimacy, but I promise I’ll do better. For me. For you. And I want you to always speak up if I do something you don’t like. To always tell me what you want and always be open to me.” He reaches out to me again, and I lift my gaze, finally meeting his. “Come here.” He gives me a nod. I close the gap between us and slip into the tenderness of his body. I wrap my hand around his back while he holds me upright. A mangled sound escapes my lips, and he tightens his arms around me.

“Don’t let me go, please.”

“You are safe here.” He presses an affectionate kiss on my shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“I didn’t think it would be over.”

“Don’t worry. It is. I won’t let any of them hurt you.” He kisses me again and again.

And damn, I fucking believe him. This is real. The monstrosities from my past are over. I can finally have a normal life where I don’t have to worry about my abusers. But a quiet hollow feeling settles in my chest because I’m not sure who I am when I’m not surviving.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

MASON

My hands circle Saint’s wrist. We are in the parking lot of the wedding venue. A nervous breath escapes my lungs as I stare at Saint. I’d been holding his hand since we left the house. He smiles at me, and he leans in to adjust my tie. “Perfect.” He whispers.

“Are we going to address the elephant in the room? Your family will be here. Your father included. Are they not aware of the role I played with Vincent?” I ask, a chill settling in my bones.

Saint’s lips tighten, then he rubs my hand carefully. “My father won’t be here. My cousin’s getting married to a man. He doesn’t approve of me. He won’t approve of Sinclair either. And my brothers, they know not to bring up what happened.”

“But, darling?” I worry. He’d met up with his brothers a few times in the past two days, and he went to the Red Vault to see his Vincent. They were reinforcing more soldiers to look for my uncle since they hadn’t found him.

Add that to the list of things that make me unnerved.

“I don’t care about their approval. I only care about you.” He takes my hand and kisses it.

This is not just about the wedding for us. We are both stepping into his world. It’s not new to me, but the difference is that I have him by my side. “Come on.”

We emerge from the car and walk through the labyrinth of parked cars, entering the building after checking in with security. We take the elevator to the next floor. The room opens into a beautiful purple-themed after-party. The air smells of expensive cologne, polished wood, and faint cigar smoke. Crystal glasses catch the light at every table, thin-stemmed and delicate. Unpredictable men standing in tailored suits gather in groups, holding conversations mostly about business and a dark and disturbed world they’ve walked their whole life.

Being here with Saint by my side feels different.

I want to hold him when a stiff feeling settles in me, but I keep my hands at my side.

How can I even want something good from him when all I have done is try to ruin his family empire? When I betrayed him, spied on him. Guilt spreads over my skin like pinpricks. How do I prove I’m worthy of his forgiveness? Of his kindness.