Page 96 of Taint My Soul

“He came after me. In my apartment, and he chased me.” I don’t have to tell him the entire truth, only bits of it. My lips tremble, and I clench my hands at my sides.

“Did he put his hands on you?” He closes the gap between us. One knee on the bed, his hand slides under my jaw and lifts my gaze to him.

“No, but he tried to.” I bite my lower lip as tears gather in my eyes. Silence stretches between us, so thick it can be cut with a blade. His eyes darken, red glazing over his irises.

“I’m going to kill him.” His jaw flexes, and his eyes read my features. But it’s the feel of his skin against mine that drives through me. I take in deep gulps of his calming scent, steadying my breathing slowly. He regains his footing and picks up his gun from the table. “Give me his name.” He demands.

“No, Saint, there are other ways to deal with this.” I sit up and get out of bed, even though walking feels like my legs are knee-deep in a flaming hot volcano.

“No?” A sordid expression falls over his features. “Look at what he does to you. How he makes you feel.” He mutters quietly.

“Of course, he makes me angry!” I bite out, voice tight with restrained ire. “He makes me so fucking angry that I don’t recognize who I am or my thoughts, and I hate that.” His back is against me. I try to put my hands on his shoulder, but he doesn’t let me. “I don’t know what world you live in, but killing someone lands you in prison, and if I ever fight back, he’d use it against me. He’d call me a monster.” My legs almost give out when his hand slides around my waist and holds me steady. He leans closer, so close that our lips almost meet.

“Then let me be that monster.” He gives me a dark look. “Anyone who touches you die. Kurt. That fucking guy in Genesis. Anyone. Anyone that’s not me.”

How can he make these promises to me when he knows what’s at stake? His father’s wrath. His family’s legacy. His life’s hard work. Is he willing to burn it all down for me?

I wrench myself away from him, breathing through the heavy pain in my legs. I run my fingers over my face. How can he say these things to me? He doesn’t know who I really am. The things I have been forced to do to destroy his family.

“Are you going to spend the rest of your life like this?” He demands. “Getting wrathful and putting it all away. Mason, it will take a toll on your body, and one day, you can’t handle it anymore, and you’d…”

“Then I die.” My voice is firm, driven by a need I have never acknowledged before. Silence lodges between us. Too thick. Too sharp. The only sound I hear is the ragged breathing behind me.

“You can’t say things like that.” He storms toward me and forces me to look at him. Fear blazes in the dark depths of his irises. Raw, bone-jarring fear. “You can’t say things like that.” He repeats firmly, eyes bouncing around my face.

“I hate the effect he has on me. I hate that when I’m so angry, I don’t recognize who I am. I don’t ever want to be that person.”

“What do you want right now? Tell me?”

“I don’t know.” I sputter and shake my head. How do I explain to him that my life has been ruined? Telling him what I truly want means that this thing between us, this feeling I’m acknowledging, will shatter before my own eyes. “I don’t know. Just…” I close the gap between us and wrap myself in the warmth of his skin. “My legs still hurt.” I whisper against his chest and inhale the scent of his cologne. A scent that does something unimaginable to me.

“Let me take you somewhere.”

“Where?” I look up at him, lips pressed in a firm line.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and turns it off. “You have all of me tonight.” He smiles and tosses the phone onto the bed.

I nod and smile plainly at him.

“Stay here. Let me get a shirt.”

“Alright.” I nod and settle down. He leaves me in the heavy silence of the room. When he returns, he wears a pale blue button shirt, and his car keys are in his hands. He closes the gap between us and lifts me into his arms, carrying me bridal style.

We head to the parking lot where he parked his car, and he deposits me into the passenger’s seat carefully. He shuts the door behind me and circles the bonnet of the car, getting into the driver’s seat. It doesn’t take long, and the city blurs behind us. I don’t ask him where he’s taking me. I don’t have to. I trust this minute feeling of safety swirling in the pit of my stomach.

When we arrive at the docks, I give him a look, and he smiles as he parks the car in the corner. “Remember the night we met here. You told me you loved watching the sea when things got heavy.” His eyes gleam with honesty. “I figured maybe here would help.”

I press my lips into a thin line, and then I force a smile to put up the pretense.

I lied to him that night. Of course, I did. But knowing that he remembered that moment sends a sting of betrayal coursing through my veins. I lean forward and wrap my hand around him. “Thank you.” I press a kiss against his jaw.

“Can you walk?” He gestures his head toward the sea.

“I’m not sure.” I lean against the car seat. “I love it when you carry me.”

“You do?” His eyes soften, and I nod. “I’ll carry you all day if I have to.” He unlocks the door and walks over to mine, opening it and helping me out of the car. He crouches down and looks over his shoulder. “Come on, hop on.”

I don’t waste a second. I hop on his back, and he grunts and supports my weight against him. He straightens up. His hand curls around my thighs to hold me steady. We stride across the pathway, past the labyrinth of freight containers. “Aren’t you worried about your father’s soldiers?” I ask, hands firmly wrapped around his shoulders.