Page 127 of Taint My Soul

Maybe that’s why he turned out to be a monster.

Because the guilt had eaten deep into his soul and left him with nothing.

I’m not him. I’m not a monster. My anger doesn’t define me. I won’t let the wrath flowing through my veins overpower me or control my decisions.

“We are here.” Bernard’s voice breaks my train of thought, and I lean upright, staring at the house ahead of me.

Saint isn’t here, so I might as well sit outside and wait for him. I exit the car and trudge toward the entrance while Bernard stands outside with his gun in his hand.

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine on my own.” I lie.

I’m not fine.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be.

“I’ll stay here until the boss gets back.”

“Maybe he’s finished with the meeting and needs someone to pick him up.”

“If he did, he’d call me.” He insists.

“Fine, suit yourself.” I kick the dirt on my way to the door. When I get to the stairs, I sit on the wooden floor and stare at the stars in the sky. It gives me a shred of comfort, but it’s not enough to erase the ominous feeling cemented in the pit of my stomach. I’m waiting for Saint because he’s the only good thing in my life right now.

No matter how much I try not to believe it, my mind ruminates on his words, on the memories I still have.

The family I had when I was a kid.

The family he’d taken from me. And all I feel is rage. Venomous rage curling inside me, unfurling every bit of restraint within me. And every ounce of hurt and resentment I have buried deep inside me leeches into my bloodstream, coiling tighter and crushing every other emotion I feel.

CHAPTER FOURTY-SEVEN

MASON

Fluorescent lights flicker above me as my eyes slowly welcome my new surroundings. The last thing I remember was sitting outside the house. Dread fills my lungs as I scan the white walls of the room. The smell of blood sits heavy, warm, and metallic in the air. I try to sit up, but pain sparks through my entire body, biting deep into my bones. I grunt and lie against the tightly tucked bed. Tears well in my eyes and slide down my cheeks in a slow rivulet.

A steady monitor beeps beside my bed, the sound too loud in the quiet ward.

My heart thuds against my chest as I try to remember what happened last night. The beeping sound from the heart-rate monitor spikes, and I clench the sheets of the bed, eyes flickering toward the steady light above me.

I close my eyes and grip the metal bed frame. The memories come with full force, pouring over me like a cascading waterfall. “Someone… anyone? Doctor?” I choke. The words lump in my throat, the lights coming off too bright. “Saint…” my lungs constrict. My breathing slows, and I try to force my eyes open, but even my sheer will isn’t enough to keep me awake.

“Doctor.” I whisper, glancing at the exit. Just then, the light dims inconsistently, and darkness pulls me in. I’m back at the beginning.

It had been over forty-five minutes since I sat on the porch waiting for Saint. Bernard stands in his position, eyes scanning the perimeter. After a while, he strides toward me and pulls his gun from his holster. “I need to look around the house.” He says, and I nod before he walks around the building.

I get to my feet and walk into the house to take off my shoes and clothes. Saint’s jacket firmly wraps around me. It’s one of the few things keeping my anger from pouring over my skin like molten lava.

Memories from the wedding gnaw at my thoughts. The escalated scenario with Saint at the reception. Is he really down bad for me? Does he look at the broken, worthless figure before him and decide that he’d take a chance on me?

David’s wicked confessions take root next. Every time he comes around me, he scars me. He tugs at the monster in me.

He’d taken my childhood away. He’d stolen my parents from me. Took me into his care and still hated me. Maybe it was the guilt of what he had done that ate away at his soul. That tainted him beyond recognition. That made him a callous monster.

Maybe watching me grow up in the same house trapped him in a constant loop of reliving the heinous crime he’d committed. That’s why he lingers like I’m some fucking debt he’s bent on collecting. Like watching me suffer gives him some twisted sense of peace.

But men like him never know peace.

They live in a nightmare. Since he’s trapped in it, he wants to drag me in with him.