Page 152 of Taint My Soul

“I’m feeling better.”

“What about you?” His eyes flicker to my stomach. “I’m sorry I wasn’t competent on the night of the attack.”

“Not your fault. My uncle was a professional hitman. I’m sure he used the element of surprise.”

“No one has ever tried to protect him as you have.” He points out.

“He means a lot to me,” I murmur. “You should understand that. You and Ali.”

He laughs.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Very much.” He rests his hand on the table. “I have worked as Saint’s driver and personal bodyguard for years. If you’re willing to risk everything for him, then I bet he’ll do the same for you.”

I nod.

“I made the call. We’ll get him here in the evening.” Ali announces as he enters the kitchen/dining hybrid.

I leave Ali and Bernard to spend time together and retreat to the bedroom to get some rest. I eventually fall asleep and wake up the following morning. As I get off the bed, the rumble of a car engine pierces through the silence and sends my senses on high alert. I don’t waste a second. I bolt through the door and appear in the living room. Stepping onto the porch, I take in the black SUV parked in front of the premises. Tall, lean-muscled, with shaved hair and dark shades of sunglasses resting on his flat nose. He steps out of the car. He wears a dark leather jacket and dark jeans. He smiles as they close the gap between them, embracing each other. “What’s up, man?”

“All well.” Ali smiles. “You’ve got the package?”

“All tucked away in the boot.” He grins, eyes sliding to me. “Who’s that?” He gestures toward me.

“My boss’s friend.” Ali sighs and looks at me.

“Hey, Elio. This is my partner in crime, Spencer.”

I lift my hand and wave at him with a full smile. “Hi, Spencer.”

“Nice to meet you.” He moves toward the bonnet. The storage compartment clicks mechanically and slides upward. Both men stare into the car for a while before they haul the blindfolded man from the car into the living room. I follow behind, and my body buzzes with a nervous feeling. Spencer and Ali hold him down and tie him to a metal chair. Spencer pulls a cigar from his pocket and squats in front of him with a sarcastic smile. “Wakey, wakey.” He grins widely and lights the cigar with his lighter.

My heart thrums in my chest at the gesture, which reminds me of Vincent Bishop. Spencer pats the man’s cheeks gently, then rises to his feet. He pulls off his jacket and settles down on the couch. “It’s been a long drive.” He blows smoke from his mouth.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that here. Bernard’s sick, and I don’t like it.” My jaw clenches as he looks at me.

“Okay. Okay.” He tosses down the cigar stick and stomps it with his boot.

Ali enters the living room and loses the blindfold, and he hands it over to me. “Elio, can you help in the kitchen?” He walks around the man and lifts his face. It’s him. I remember seeing him stand in the corner while his soldiers tortured me. He clenches his fist and aims for the man’s nose, knuckles colliding into his face as his head jerks backward and his eyes fly open.

A sharp, curdled grunt scrapes out of his throat. His head falls backward, and it takes him a good measure of time to look up at Ali. He laughs, an odd sound of disappointment. “If it isn’t my stalker.” Thick blood oozes down his broken nose.

“You don’t have to break him.” I cross my arms, and Ali looks up at me.

“I told you. Kitchen now.” He commands.

“No, I’m staying, and I’m asking questions.”

Ali sighs in defeat and shrugs. “By all means, show us what you’ve got.” He steps aside whilst I take his place.

I had, after all, witnessed several interrogations.

Cyrus inhales sharply, eyes sparking recognition as his smile slowly fades. He recognizes me. Of course, he does.

“Remember me, right? Auction house at Queenstown. The warehouse. The Greyhouse.”

“How could I forget?”