Page 29 of Taint My Soul

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Lie to me again.” A rough sound tears from his throat.

“Fuck you, Saint.”

“That’s really brave of you,” he chuckles. “But I only have one question. Why are you here? That’s all I need to know. The truth.”

“I was here to watch the sea.”

“At this odd hour. Try again, Mason.”

“You think I’m lying to you.”

“I know you’re lying to me.” He says quietly.

“I’m not.”

“Hmm.” He nods, tension setting in his jaw. “Your face?”

My heart sinks, and my fingers lift to the bruise on my jaw. “I fell.” I lie again. He regards me with a jaded stare, almost like he can’t contain his anger.

“Who hurt you?” He demands. He takes a step closer, and my heart jumps into my throat.

“No one. I slipped in the bathroom and fell.” I grit out, keeping my story straight. Is he furious that I got hurt?

He makes an odd sound and nods before he looks at me one more time. “I’m letting you off easy this time. Go home, boy.” He turns around and walks away. He stops and looks over his shoulder, gaze lethal. “Utter a word about this…”

“I won’t.”

I don’t waste a second. Boy? Did he think I was his pet? Fuck him.

I hop into the road, and I cross over to the yellow taxi waiting on the other side. I circle the trunk and enter the passenger seat, falling back on the leather seat. “Move,” I tell the driver, and the engine comes to life before he peels off the asphalt.

“What took you so long?”

“I got held up.”

“You’re paying extra, man.”

“Sure.” I scroll through my phone screen and dial Neo’s phone number. He picks up the second ring, and his deep baritone voice filters through the speaker. “How did your first stalking job go?”

“He doesn’t know about you or Vincent.”

“And…”

“He’s planning to meet up with someone at the poker room in Red Horn.”

“Perfect,” he chuckles. “See, when you do your job, the boss doesn’t get mad, and you don’t get hurt.”

“Whatever.” I say and hang up. I toss my phone onto the leather seat and force a groan down my throat, running my fingers through my hair.

Even though I’m on my way home, my thought chime with what happened inside that container. I don’t want to be like David. I’m nothing like him. I would never hurt him even if he handed me a blade himself.

I am not a monster like him.

I am not a monster like them.

Worse, Saint knows. Saint knows exactly who I am. Not even the mask can save me from him now. What if he decides to have me in his office? The idea is reckless. And I never want that to happen. I never want to feel unsafe at home and at the office. I never want to walk every moment of my life with lung-straining discomfort.