Page 27 of Taint My Soul

A container away from me, a raw and jagged scream rips from a man’s throat, loud enough to send an uneasy feeling through me.

If I’m found, will I face the same fate?

My heart thunders beneath my chest as every nerve in my body screams to run, yet I plant my feet on the sodden earth beneath me. Through the quiet night, Saint’s voice rumbles through the walls, and the explosion of gunshots rips through the cavernous space, bouncing off corrugated walls as shock jerks through me. A sour taste crawls up my constricted throat, and I hear his voice echo through the charged air.

“You answer a question when I speak to you. Do you understand?”

This is another fraction of the man I had met at the suite.

A monster. But I already knew that. He’s been raised to run a mafia syndicate. Softness isn’t something his family would tolerate.

I saw it in his eyes that night.

Saint keeps questioning his captives, but my mind trails off to Vincent. I have to stay until I know what the prisoners said in exchange for their lives.

I shut my eyes. Shrieks haunt the air, then another gunshot cracks like deafening thunder.

He’s exactly like Vincent.

He takes. Threatens. Kills.

Beneath the shallow feeling of disgust I feel, something else slithers through the cracks of anger. My fingers slowly curl into my palms, nails biting into my skin. I imagine a different face trapped in that room. A different voice begging. I imagine looming over the man who had put me through the worst days of my life, seizing the power for myself and wielding it how I please.

The blood. Pain. Torture.

A part of me wanted to leave. The other part of me entertained the fantasy of having David chained so I can watch him suffer.

I hate myself for it. For thinking this way.

All my life, I have hidden every emotion he made me feel; kept the rage on a leash. I’d never be like him. No matter what. I’d never fall on my knees and beg for forgiveness. Then go back to the same things I did that hurt the people around me.

Another scream splits the air, and I squeeze my eyes, breath hitching before I open them again. But it doesn’t end there.

“I’ll talk. I’ll talk.”

“Good, Oliver. Tell me the truth.”

“They came to the docks two days ago. I have never seen them in my life.”

“What did they want?”

“They just wanted us off duty, so they’d tamper with the shipment. They paid us for it.”

“Names?”

“I didn’t get any names… But we were going to meet up at the poker room at the Red Horn Club next week for the rest of the payment.”

“Good enough. Isn’t it your lucky day?”

I already have my answers for Vincent. Saint doesn’t have the names of those who crossed him, but it doesn’t look like he’ll stop until he gets what he wants.

I push off the container and slip through the narrow gap between two stacked crates, pulling the dark hoodie over my head. Pushing my hands into my pockets, I follow the paved path that leads out of the shipping docks. “Hey.” A deep voice barks and I whip my head around. My gaze lands on the security man walking toward me.

Run or stay?

Running means, I’m guilty of something. So I face the man in black suit and put my hands up. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…”