Page 71 of Taint My Soul

I wanted him to take out his need for vengeance on me.

Not his soldiers, but him. Only him.

But he doesn’t. The only thing I get from him is the jaded stare in his eyes as he leaves me with his soldiers.

The first punch cracks across my jaw, and my neck snaps back. Before I can steady myself, a gloved fist buries into my ribs brutally, cutting the air out of my lungs. Another soldier shoves me forward, slamming his boot into my stomach repeatedly. Each hit bruises my skin, and my body curls inward from the pain.

As I look up at the soldier looming above me, his boot rains down on me.

“Saint. Saint.”

I grunt, rolling over as I take in Mason. He’s lying on the floor just like me. The first thing I notice is the scar on his belly. A scar his uncle had given him. My heart squeezes with resentment. “I’m not sure how long it’s been.” He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He breathes shallowly. Congealed blood pools beneath him. He’s lost a lot of blood from his injuries.

“Did they take you again?”

“No, I haven’t seen them for a while now.” He whispers, breaking eye contact. “You’ve been unconscious for days.”

How do I keep coming back? How did I keep surviving?

Loneliness reeks through me relentlessly accompanied with the violent bite of fear on my skin. A sharp breath escapes me as the walls of the prison close in on me. Every muscle in my body aches with agonizing pain. I’m not letting him give up hope.

I gave up hope on Cyrus’s son. I didn’t fight to keep him alive. I put a bullet in his head.

I won’t lose Mason without a fight.

Lethal silence settles between us. He’s a few inches away from me. All it’ll take to wrap myself in his velvet warmth is just three wrenching steps. But I can’t. No matter how much my body wants to feel something else, I can’t.

Because touching him means I’m discarding everything I have ever known.

It means I’m weak.

It means I’m sick.

And I have never felt that way in a long time. I have never wanted to crawl out of my own skin because I have always compartmentalized my feelings. Kept them in boxes.

Mason ruined everything in just one fucking moment.

And I blame this thing inside me.

I blame myself for wanting what’s wrong.

And even as I lie on this cold concrete floor, every part of my inside burns with a blazing need to touch him.

But if I do, I’ll want more.

And I’m not supposed to want or feel or attach myself to anything outside of a damn contract.

The contract keeps everything controlled. It keeps the truth about myself at arm’s length.

“Mason.” My voice trembles with raw, searing need. “Mason!” Panic surges through my voice when he doesn’t answer the second time.

I move through the lacerating pain and close the gap between us. I crouch beside him and lie on my back, placing my hand around his skin.

“I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m here now, little devil.”

A soft whimper escapes him, and his eyes snap open in the indistinct darkness. He doesn’t utter a word, even as my heart slams furiously against my chest. What he does amazes me. He draws closer, sliding his hand over my chest carefully. He lifts his head and places it against my chest, and that’s all it takes for my body to relax. To forget the blackened pain coursing through my veins.

Everything in me screams to end this. But running away from this comfort will rip us apart even before Cyrus’s soldiers do, and if this is the last memory I’ll have, I want it to be with the man I can’t stop obsessing over.