Page 85 of Taint My Soul

This is my first time witnessing the excellence and experience that the dancers give their audience. The self-expression and creativity behind it. It all comes together in a phenomenal performance.

The crowd surges forward. Music swells. Money slides through the air, landing on the floor and the stage whilst both dancers continue to give them the dance of their lifetime.

My body jolts when someone rests their hands on my shoulder, heart jumping into my throat. Fear curls in my veins with the intensity of molten fire. My wide eyes settle on the security man in black, and a sigh of relief escapes my lungs.

He leans forward and whispers. “You’re needed in the VIP booth.”

“VIP room?”

“No, booth.” He corrects, and he gestures a nod toward the spiral staircase that leads into the VIP booth above the dance floor.

As I take the staircase, my fingers tremor, and I take in a slow breath, reminding myself that this isn’t Kurt. This is an entirely different man with a different taste. It might be someone who wants to place an order.

As I enter the booth, my chest tightens the moment I see him. Every thought I have spent the week trying to outrun crashes back at once. I’m at a loss for words when I see Saint sprawled on the leather cushion arranged in an L-shape with a glass of scotch on the table in front of him.

What is he doing here? Did he come to watch the show?

“Oh, hey, it’s the guy who gave me his email.” Syn looks at me with a full smile.

“I go by Mason, but I think you already know that.” I respond cheekily.

“My cousin wants to speak with you. He misses you. He’s been unstable all week.” Syn glances up at Saint, who’s seething.

“I’ll believe it when I hear it from him.”

“Run along, friend. I need to focus on this.”

“Don’t just stand there. Sit.” Saint commands. I sit primly beside him, and he grunts in disapproval. He slaps his thighs, and I give him a look.

“I’m not sitting on your lap.” I tell him.

“Please, little devil.” He begs, eyes softening.

“And what Syn said?”

“All lies.” My face falls with disappointment. “I was more than unstable, little devil. I’m jealous that these men have to see you like this.”

“Why do you call me, little devil?”

“Please, sit on my lap. Want me to grovel?”

A smirk slowly curls at my lips. What is he doing to me? Why can’t I goddamn remember that this man ghosted me for a week? Why do I feel this warmth inside of me?

“So, he can’t get you to flirt back, and I can’t. You’re punishing me, little devil?”

“You are really jealous, but you haven’t answered my question.”

“I call you little devil because I acknowledge your darkness. Because I see it and I like it, and I don’t want you to feel terrified of yourself.”

“How can you like what I hate?” I ask, genuinely hoping for an answer that will justify how he feels. He doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t.

“I answered your question. Now, please, sit.” He slaps his hand against my thighs. “I won’t run away if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“You’ve done that so many times,” I reply. “Besides, I have tables to wait.”

“Then I’ll wait until you’re done.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I rise to my feet.