CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SAINT
You don’t show weakness.
You can’t be vulnerable.
You don’t let people see who you truly are.
I have to put my legacy first and everything else last.
He doesn’t deserve to be shackled to a man like me. He shouldn’t even look my way. He shouldn’t have come near me.
He deserves someone soft, someone whole, someone who doesn’t have blood on his hands. But the sickest part? That tiny flare of light he carries, that defiance… it makes every dark piece of me reach for him, anyway.
But I can’t want something that drives me insane, that makes me do things I wouldn’t even dream of doing.
This is what I tell myself over the weekend I spent at Cross’s house. I don’t know if he’s still at my apartment. Hell, I don’t want to. I want to forget everything that happened that night.
How could I even ask him to kiss me? It was entirely stupid of me. I mean, I’ve not kissed anyone in a long time. Never felt the need to, because kissing complicates things. I only do what I do through contracts and end those contracts when I’m bored.
And that’s all he was supposed to be, a fucking contract.
I’d never let myself forget who I am and how I’m supposed to live.
I have to remember that nothing is more important than being an asset to my family. That he doesn’t matter to me. Not even one bit.
Over the weekend, Cross had found the man who killed those boys. It was the same man who was supposed to meet up with Shaun and James.
Neo.
When I catch him, I’d make him regret ever coming after my family.
“Thank you for dropping me off,” I tell Cross as he stops in front of the company building.
“Anytime, brother.” He smiles at me. “And don’t forget the art concert. This Friday, I already bought tickets.”
“I won’t, Cross.” I promise him and get out of the car, shutting the door behind me.
He peels off the sidewalk, and I walk over the grey pavement, heading into the entrance where two security men stand, clad in their uniforms. “Good morning, Mr. King.”
“Good morning.” I smile at the man as I step through the glass door.
As I enter the lobby, I wave at the receptionist, who gives me a grin from her desk.
I stride toward the elevator, step into the square enclosed space, and hit the up button.
The machine whirrs and hisses as it ascends to my floor.
My mind ruminates on who this Neo is and what he wants from my family.
It can’t be just about disrupting our business or setting a warehouse on fire.
There must be something else the snake wants.
There must be someone else working with him.
I’ll have to hire a private investigator because I can’t rely only on my brothers, especially since this has to do with everything my family has worked for. Especially when my father looks up to me to become a ruthless successor who will protect what’s ours fiercely.
The elevator stops at the third floor, and the doors glide open. His cologne hits me first, clean and familiar, then he enters the space in a black suit with a coffee order in his hands.
Days of distance collapse in a single breath. I expected him to be at his desk. It would have been so much easier to walk past him without even looking in his direction.
He stiffens when he sees me, but it’s too late.
The elevator doors are already closing.
I keep my hands to myself. I don’t think about touching him. I don’t think about what happened at my penthouse on Friday night.
But even with that, he snakes his way through my thoughts. My voice whispers his name. Every time he crosses my mind, it hits me like a lungful of cold, clean air. Sharp, startling, too pure for someone like me.
Fuck, it was just one fucking moment. One moment I’ve never let happen. Now he has this effect on me.
I feel this attraction, but I don’t know what to do with it. Hell, I don’t want to acknowledge it.
“Good morning.” He whispers as he takes his place beside me. “I have your coffee order.”
“Thank you.” I wrap my hand around the coffee sleeve and lift it to my lips.
The silence between us is uncomfortable. The tension thickens like a live wire. My eyes skim the space, avoiding Mason.
“Saint,” he whispers.
My gaze flickers up to those pretty brown eyes, and the memories flood back like a storm.
My lips part, and a sharp breath escapes me.
Mason’s lips move, but no words form.
The elevator jerks to a stop. The machine rattles and kicks back on before the light eventually flickers and loses power.
My heart thumps in my chest as I wait for the machine to come back on.
Nothing happens. I stride forward and hit the buttons on the elevator, but it doesn’t work.
I pull my phone and dial the number of the maintenance team.
“What happened?” My voice comes out hoarse and shaky.
“Power outage on the fifth floor. We are fixing it.”
“How long?”
“As soon as possible.” The man answers.
“That’s not an answer.”
“We will get you out of there, sir.” He responds.
“Fuck.” I hang up and shove the phone into my pocket.
I straighten my spine and exhale deeply, standing so close to the wall, my hands locked in front of me.
I can’t be in here for more than an hour.
Memories flood me in an instant. Darkness and shackles.
Steel walls and stale air. I’m not in the Red Vault.
This is different. I’m stuck in an elevator, and it’s only for a few minutes.
Father’s not punishing me again. He’s not exerting power and control over me.
This is different.
I reaffirm in my mind, but my body doesn’t catch up. My mind filters in the darkest of memories. The blood and gunshot. The horror in the eyes of the man I once showed mercy, dead before my feet.
The first time I held the bars of that prison was when I had spared to someone who stole from us. Father had disciplined me. He had kept me in that isolated place for weeks. He had reminded me that he didn’t tolerate weakness, especially from his own children.
We don’t show thieves mercy.
We don’t show weak men mercy.
He’d taken me out of the Red Vault weeks later, then he handed me a gun and asked me to prove my worthiness to the family.
So, I did.
I pulled the trigger.
I put a bullet in his head and watched as blood pooled beneath his unconscious body.
The first man I ever kissed died at my hands.
And in those final moments, all I saw was his hatred.
Not the gentle way he’d always looked at me.
He never forgave me, and I haven’t forgiven myself ever since.
That moment had left a scar. Weeks of waking up in nightmares drenched in sweat.
Sometimes it was the memory itself. Other times, he held me down in a river of blood, drowning me repeatedly. Relentlessly.
But even with years of burying those memories, of locking them away, it clawed its way out of the darkness.
Again.
I tap my feet on the floor, short, shallow breaths splitting through my lungs.
I focus on getting out of here.
It’s only an hour. Maybe, a few more minutes.
He’s kept me prisoner in the Red Vault for months. I can survive just an hour here.
The walls feel closer than they should, like the metal itself is leaning in to taste my fear.
The ceiling feels lower, almost pressing down on me.
My heart slams against my ribs, loud enough that I can hear it.
I grit my teeth as the air thickens. My lungs strain.
I turn around and put my hand against the wall to steady myself.
But still, my mind races with so many thoughts.
I think of Mason.
His eyes. His smile.
I’m not supposed to think of him, but I do, and he grounds me a little. My hands shake against the wall. “I don’t ever let this happen.” My voice comes out in short, broken gasps, too quiet for Mason to hear.
“Saint.” The sound of his voice pulls me out of the vortex that’s swallowing me into an unending darkness.
But only for a moment.
“Are you okay?” He steps closer, and I flinch, chest heaving as I put some distance between us.
I don’t need him.
I won’t ever need a man who’s supposed to be a contract.
I don’t need anyone.
My briefcase slips from my hand and crashes with a thud on the floor. I move away from him, rubbing my hand across my temple and shaking my head. “I’m… I’m fine.” I bring down my trembling hand and ball it into a fist.
I bring my hand against the steel wall and bang repeatedly. “I need to get out of here.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Beside me, Mason tries to put his hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him off.
“I make sure this never happens. I make sure everything works perfectly.” I press my palm to the nearest surface, fingers splayed, desperate for something solid to anchor me, but it’s not enough.
“We’ll be out here before you know it.” He says. But it doesn’t make me feel any better. The air thickens, sharp as a blade. The walls warp in my vision, and I shut my eyes. “Saint, let me hold you.”
“No.” I snap. “Don’t touch me.” I grunt and turn away from him.
“Saint.”
“Mason, stop. Stop speaking.” I place my hands on my head, frustration seeping through the cracks of my control. “Please…” The words tear out of my throat even though I try so hard not to let them through.
Not even a second later, he closes the gap between us.
“I just…” I don’t look up at him. His hands caress my cheeks. I lean into the ethereal feel of his touch, soaking up the comfort that comes with being close to him.
I’m not supposed to let him touch me.
I’m not supposed to enjoy this.
This is everything I’m not.
“It’s ok. I’m here with you.” He soothes. Glistening eyes look up at me as he smiles. “Breathe with me, okay. Slowly.” He holds my gaze, chest rising as he inhales deeply.
I mirror the rhythm of his breathing, hands fastening around his suit.
In. Out. In. Out.
“You’re okay. You’re safe.” He pulls me flush against his chest, wrapping his hand around me.
I squeeze my eyes hard, breathing as slowly as I can.
The voices in my head retreat, and the tension in my muscles dissolves.
Holding him feels like I’m standing in front of the ocean, watching the tides rise and fall.
Peaceful. It feels too good. Too good for a man like me.
Too good for a man who’s never supposed to want anything outside of family legacy.
“Mason,” I whisper.
“I know,” he exhales sharply. “But this,” he lifts his gaze to meet mine. “It’s for you. I want you to know that you are not alone.” His words fill me with so much warmth that it feels like my heart is about to explode from the thrill of being entangled with him.
How can he hold me this way? Does he not see the kind of man I am? A man who buried the bastard who tried to put his hands on him six feet below. How can I not see that what I feel dooms me?
But for once in my life, I don’t feel alone in the darkness. I don’t feel shamed for breaking apart. And that means a lot to me.
I match his breathing synchronously. That’s when the elevator comes to life, a soft hum pressing in from every direction as light floods in. The machine ascends, and my hands loosen around Mason. I force myself away from him.
He takes the hint and backs away, taking his position beside me. Yet every part of me wants to reach out to him.
To feel that feeling again.
The elevator dings as it opens into the hall.
Mason steps out first, and I follow. As we walk down the hall, I put my hands in my pockets and enter our office space.
He makes a beeline for his desk and settles into his seat, whilst I head into my office.
As I pull off my jacket and place it on my chair, the doors open behind me.
“Are you feeling better?” Mason asks. I don’t respond immediately. I don’t even look in his direction.
Fuck, I can’t bear to.
Because every part of my skin burns hot for his cold, and I don’t want to imagine what will happen between us if I give in to this feeling clenching my insides.
He closes the gap between us and stares up at me, placing his hand on my stubble. I grunt and try to back away, but his hand circles my wrist and holds me close. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” I stare at where his hand connects with mine. I breathe shakily and try to force a smile, only to end up chewing my lower lip. His thumb caresses my wrist in such a tender way it makes my heart harden with want.
I break off contact between us before I give in to this thing in me.
I step aside. “I’d really appreciate it if we forgot what happened,” I say and sit down.
“Is there anything else you want?” My eyes meet him now.
His demeanor changes even though he’s struggling to hide it.
I see the tick in his jaw and the slight frown on his features.
“No, sir.”
My jaw hardens, gaze dropping to my desk. As he turns to leave, I whisper, “We are driving to Genesis tomorrow.”
“For?”
“Just pack a bag for the week.”
“Alright, sir.” He smiles and walks away.