Page 34 of Taint My Soul

But he doesn’t fight me.

I don’t know why I’m doing this. But I tell myself that the faster he trusts me, the sooner he’ll let me into his life. And if that happens, I’ll know his secrets, and I’ll use them to buy my freedom.

That’s exactly why I’m here.

“You need to get this cleaned up.” I lead him to the bathroom, hands turning the faucet. I hold his hand under the clear rushing water. The water goes from colorless to red and runs quickly down the drain. My gaze lifts to Saint, who watches me intently. I see something familiar in his eyes.

The look in his eyes from our first night? I see it now.

“Did you fire Kurt?” I ask so I can stop my thoughts from running on overdrive.

“I don’t mix business with pleasure.” He pulls his hand away even before I can clean the wound with a clean towel. The mask returns to his features in a cold, haunting way, and a trembling breath escapes my lips. Why did I think doing this would change anything? Why didn’t I lie on that bed and let him use me? It would have been over by now. But instead, I let my guard down and tried to offer him something he’ll never want.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“Go back to the room. Strip. Take off your mask and lie flat on the bed.” His jaw flexes, and I step around him and return to the room.

My fingers reach behind the base of my skull. I lose the knot of the mask, and it drops to the floor. Then I take off the chest harnesses and my shorts. My fingers tread over the soft bedsheets as I lie on my back and breathe in deeply.

My body trembles against the soft bed, and discomfort jabs away at my lungs.

It’ll be over any second now. But it doesn’t make it easier to breathe. My fingers clutch the bedsheet to steady myself. I look to my left and see him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at me.

I break eye contact and look up at the ceiling, reassuring my mind that I have to get myself through it.

“Mason, put on your clothes.”

My head snaps in his direction. He’s standing by the bathroom, shoulders leaning against the frame.

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.”

I rise from the bed. My pulse eases into a slower rhythm. I breathe out quietly. He observes me as I wear my shorts and leather straps. My fingers trace along the black mask, and I straighten up and look at him.

“Go.” He cocks his head toward the exit. “Our contract is over.” The words come out of him so easily, it’s jarring.

I pause. A wave of shock crashes through me so hard my knees almost give out. My pulse spikes, heart pounding against my chest.

This is exactly what Vincent doesn’t want.

This isn’t part of the plan. I am not supposed to keep this fucking job no matter how much I despise it.

I whip around and face him. “You can’t do this.”

“You don’t tell me what to do. I don’t want your services anymore, Mason. They’re not useful to me. You’re of no use to me.” His word burns, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have to. All he thinks of is himself. Himself. Only himself.

“Saint.” I swallow and watch him walk to the chaise lounge to pick up his jacket. “Sir, please.” The word tastes like ash in my mouth. “I’ll be good for you. I promise I’ll do better. Please.”

“This isn’t about you.” He walks past me. “I’ll inform Madame that our contract is null and void. I’m setting you free.” He smiles at me, but all I see is pain and fear in his eyes. Then he leaves, the shape of him lingering like a ghost I desperately need and want gone at the same time.

If Madame learns the truth, that’s the end of it for me. Of course, he’ll tell Vincent. He’ll tell him everything.

And once he learns I’ve fucked it up. My body will bear the consequences.

The physical scars of his wrath.

It has always been my body. My scars are the only way I see my pain. My damage. The only way I see and understand my suffering. And Vincent will brand my skin as the punishment for my disobedience.