Page 86 of Taint My Soul

“I want you to come home with me.” He stretches his hand to me and takes my wrist.

“I don’t think I can.” Even though every part of me wants to. I didn’t find anything at his house the last time I was there. Maybe I will now. Besides, going home with him means I can stay away from that narcissistic freak who lives opposite me.

He lets me go. “I’m sorry, Saint,” I whisper as I walk away.

I’m running out of time.

Believing in this warmth, in this closeness, it will cost me every fucking thing. My life. My heart. Even if this is becoming something real, I can’t trust it. If he knows the truth about what I did, he won’t hesitate to kill me.

Every part of me wants to tell Saint he’s making a mistake by thinking this is real. By trying to confide in my safety. By trusting me. We were better off when he was mean to me. That whatever form of happy ending his brain had manufactured was a fucking illusion.

The Saint I knew weeks ago would have asked me to stay. He wouldn’t have wanted me to sit on his laps. Sitting on him, drowning myself in his warmth, suggests intimacy. And Saint Demetrius King hates intimacy. He’s trying to change, to do things in ways he wouldn’t, and that makes my heart ache fatally.

He’s rich and powerful. He could get any ass he wants with just one phone call.

And he’s coming back to me. A worthless, broken toy. What purpose will I serve him with all the hate and disgust I have for myself?

I enter the chaos of the open stage, where Tiff and Cash just finished dancing. The night continues painstakingly, my thoughts focused on the moment I just had with Saint. I’m at the bar when I see him leaving. He looks over his shoulder, and his forlorn gaze catches mine.

When the night ends, I finish up at the bar and return to the dressing room, putting my clothes back on. I head outside the building. To my surprise, he’s literally leaning against the bonnet of his car and waiting for me. “Come home with me, please, little devil.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

SAINT

An entire week of staying locked in my penthouse to looking over Prince’s contract for his business deal. He had the paperwork delivered himself before he returned to his city to continue running his business empire. I’ve been carefully looking through every single word since Monday evening.

And it’s Friday, and I’m nowhere near getting finished cause I’m distracted. Burying myself in work is better than thinking about that goddamn kiss.

I’m putting all of my energy into making sure my family’s stable before anything else. That’s exactly what my father wants, what he raised me to be, and I’m damn near tired of being a constant disappointment.

But I miss him.

I miss him like he’s the air I breathe.

And I hate that I never imagined that a single kiss would ever complicate things like this. That it’ll have me thinking of him even when I shouldn’t. Wanting him when my thoughts should clearly focus on the words on this freaking paper.

How did I go from a man who takes what he needs without even flinching to a man who’s absolutely thinking about another man in a way that rivals everything he believes in?

God, I’m so fucking pathetic. For wanting what goes against it all.

My phone buzzes against the polished desk, and I lift my gaze from the contract I have in my mind. I pick up the device and stare at my brother’s name on the screen.

Ever since what happened at the apartment the night I came home from Genesis, we haven’t spoken to each other. He’d only relayed information of what he got from questioning Bernard.

And so far, nothing.

He’s not telling the truth, and that’s the only thing that can save him from my wrath. Loyalty matters to me, and if he did something that makes me question his loyalty. I’d have to fight tooth and nail to find out.

I pick up the incoming call and put it on the loudspeaker. “Brother.” Virgil’s voice comes out as if he’s exhausted.

“Yes, what have you got?”

“Same thing, man.” He sighs exasperatedly. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

“I don’t believe him even for a second.” I rise from my chair and pace my office. “Bernard went back to the house on Thursday. He knows the house like the back of his hand. He could have easily taken photos of that map and sent them. According to Melody, Syn’s sister, the anonymous tip came in on Thursday night.”

“What if it were someone else?” he expresses his doubt.