Page 57 of Taint My Soul

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MASON

The club comes alive around me as I enter the midnight decadence. I move straight to the bar, squeezing through the sea of bodies on the dance floor. High barstools line the black marble counter under the glow of the blue lights. Bottles line the shelves like trophies, reflecting the light. I sit on the stool opposite the average-height young woman in her work uniform. “What would you like to have?” She quizzes.

“A tequila would do.” I smile at her just as Saint’s cologne hits me. Of course, he followed me.

“Put it on my tab.” He tells the young woman.

“Don’t worry, I can pay for my own drinks,” I tell her with a forced smile, not even acknowledging the man sitting beside me. She pauses and looks at us.

“Just put it on my tab and get me a scotch.”

“Alright, sir.” She nods at Saint and pours us two shots. One tequila. One scotch.

Saint extends his hand to the shot glass and lifts it to his lips, downing it in one go. He slides the shot glass. “More.”

“You know you could have just gone home.”

“And leave you here all by yourself.” He cocks his head toward me. The look in his eyes makes me uncomfortable. All I can think about is that journal and the horrible things he’d written in it. I break eye contact and throw my drink down my throat.

The bartender refills his drink, and he downs the second round. I scoff and turn around, looking at the dance floor.

“Here’s your refill.” The woman says.

“Thank you.”

My phone buzzes with a message. I open my phone and click on the image sent to me, waiting for it to load.

When it does, what I see is a single bullet and a gun. The bullet has my name etched on it. A cold shiver runs through me. My hand trembles, and I almost drop my phone. I turn off my screen and grab my shot, downing it in one go before I get on my feet.

I know what this means.

And I have what can save me from it. Hopefully, that map has something that could end it all. That could set me free. And I already have saved it in my phone, yet I can’t bring myself to send it to Vincent. If I do this and get my freedom, what’s to say that Saint doesn’t come after me when it’s all over? What’s to say that I don’t become Vincent’s personal pawn in his twisted games of power play?

I put my phone in my pocket and slide into the thrumming heat of the dance floor, getting swept off my feet with the music. I lift my hands, looking at the flashing strobe lights above my head. When I look at the bar, Saint faces me, shot in hand, eyes on me.

My shoulders shudder with an emotion I can’t name.

Why does he do this? Why does he do this to me? Why do I let him?

I break eye contact and turn around, bumping chest-to-chest with a stranger. He smirks, eyes raking over me. His hand circles my waist, and he pulls me closer. He leans into my ear and whispers. “You alone?”

“Yeah.” I look into his eyes with a smile.

“Do you want to join me outside for some fun?”

I swallow hard, and a faint thrum of unease runs along my neck.

“No rush, of course.” He retreats two steps and dances back to me.

“Move.” A deep, cold voice reverberates behind us, and my head snaps back. Saint towers behind me, eyes glinting with pure rage. How the fuck did he move from the bar to the dance floor so quickly? He glares at the guy standing close to me, fists clenching as his jaw works.

“You don’t have to listen to him.” I tell the guy with a nervous chuckle. That’s when he snatches me away from him, knocking a sharp, unexpected breath out of my lungs. His rough hand snakes around my arm as he forces me to stand by his side. Saint’s eyes darken at the other man. The unknown guy takes the hint and disappears into the crowd.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Saint?”

He doesn’t look at me.