Page 64 of Lost Soul

“Never let your guard down, Mads. Hayley felt safe around me too and look what happened to her.” It’s my turn to look away now, I’ve never admitted that out loud before either, and the words sting my tongue on their way out.

“Yeah, me. I happened to her,” Maddy laughs, but not a happy one... a self-loathing one that I hate the sound of.

“Stop that. Stop blaming yourself for what happened to her. What Hayley did was her choice, you never asked her to jump in front of you and take that bullet.”

“Okay, Jessie, if it’s so easy then why don’t you stop blaming yourself too?” she snaps back, turning her head she looks right at me, her eyes burning me for an answer.

“That’s different.” I shake my head knowing there’s no way she’d ever understand.

“No, you blame yourself the same as I do. I can see it eating you up, and you need to let it go too.” Silence hangs between us, neither of us really knowing what to say next. Maddy goes to say something, her lips parting slightly. But before her voice can come out I lean into her, and I take those lips with my own. I want to kiss away all the guilt and pain she feels, and it surprises me how the heavy weight of mine becomes a little lighter as I do.

Her hand weaves into my hair, and she holds me close like she’s afraid I'll pull away. She doesn’t have to worry though, I’d kiss her until my lips felt raw and I couldn't draw any breath. Or at least until I remember who I am and exactly what I’m trying to protect her from.

I force myself away when that eventually happens.

She smiles at me, in a way that’s unintentionally seductive. Placing my hand on the back of her head I tuck her down into my chest then set a kiss on the top of her head, and hold her there. My lips press tightly against her soft, golden hair, just so I don’t have to look into her eyes. Because if I do, any morals, and good intentions I possess, are likely to up and leave me.

“Come on, darlin’, let's get you back.” I nudge her after too long a silence, and I stand up from the smooth rock we've been sitting on. When I offer her my hand to help her up, she takes it and her fingers wrapping around mine puts a comfort in my chest that doesn’t belong there.

The tighter she clings to my waist on the way back, the tighter I grip my bars. The entire way she rests the weight of her body against my back, her thighs pressing tightly against the outside of mine and I already know that after kissing her again, I’m gonna need an outlet tonight.

My head insists on fucking with me, making me want to do things to her that I've never done before. I don’t want to fuck Maddy Summers. I want to lay her out and fucking worship her. I find these days that my impulse to do just that has become stronger than my urges to create pain and cause suffering. How the girl’s managed to conflict my brutal mind with thoughts so beautiful baffles me and terrifies me all at the same time.

The party is still pretty loud when we get to the club, and I ride straight on past up to my cabin. Then resting up my bike I follow Maddy inside.

“You hungry? I could make you something?” she asks, making her way towards the kitchen. She sounds nervous, like she can sense how my mood has shifted.

“I'm good,” I reply, aware of how cold I sound. But just being around her feels like I’m being strangled. My fingers twitch for her skin, and if I let them touch again I know they’ll never stop reaching. She’s a line that once I cross I’ll never come back from. And I have to keep the promises I’ve made to myself.

My dirty soul will not bleed hers of its goodness, I can’t give her what she needs. She deserves everything, or at the very least someone who knows how to love her.

“I got to head back out,” I tell her, hating the look of disappointment that instantly falls over her face knowing that it’s me who’s caused it. I even consider going back down to the club, screwing the shit out of Mel or one of the others to rough-fuck Maddy right out of my head for the night. But I already know without trying that it wouldn't be enough.

Tonight, I need more. Tonight, I have to remind myself of the monster I’m protecting Maddy from. I’ll prove to myself that the thoughts that have been twisting themselves in my head since the first day I saw her, don't belong there. Taking my cut from where she’s neatly placed it on the back of the sofa, I check that what I need is still in the pocket, then slide it back on. Then I walk out of the door without saying goodbye.

I don’t look back, the hurt staring back at me will haunt me for the rest of the night if I do. Sitting on my bike, I pull out the list. There are still eight names waiting to be crossed off it and Cameron Slater’s is the name I pick out at random. I instantly feel sorry for the unlucky bastard.

I’m starting to think he enjoys the teasing. That giving me a glimpse inside, and then shutting down and snatching it all away again is a game to him.

Getting away from the compound with him tonight has been incredible, him kissing me again was everything else on top of that. It’s different to the first time he kissed me. Less feral, gentler, almost like he’s trying to tell me something. Then somewhere on the short journey back to the club, I lost him again.

I guess riding past the club reminded him what he was missing out on. The women down there are experienced, they’d know how to get him off. Why would he waste his time here with me?

Thinking about it’s too painful, so I decide to distract myself. I make myself more comfortable by changing into a vest top and some boy shorts. It’s been hot all day, so I take advantage of the cool evening air and set my laptop up out on the balcony.

Breaking into government files isn’t all that tricky, it’s the doing it without being detected that takes all the effort. People work 24/7 to keep people like me out, so I have to make sure I’m smarter than the people I’m up against. I’ve always loved computers, growing up I spent a lot of time on my own, but I never felt lonely. How could I when I had the whole universe under my fingertips.

I taught myself how to hack mainly out of curiosity. When I was fifteen I was desperate to find my father. Mom refused to talk about him, and all I had to go on was an uncashed cheque that I’d found when I was snooping in Mom’s things. That uncashed cheque had provided information though. A name and account details at least.

I was well aware that a fifteen-year-old couldn’t just walk into a bank and demand information on her suspected father. Luckily, I had a pretty vivid imagination. I’d seen what people could do on TV. When it came to the worldwide web nothing was impossible. Nothing is secure, and there is always a way in. I got on to some forums, learned the basics, and then I used those basic skills to further my knowledge. I practiced a whole lot because being unpopular meant I had nothing but time.

I found my father eventually, a happily married man who lived a few towns away. He had the perfect life and a beautiful family. A son a few years older than myself, twin girls a few months younger. I figured the generous cheque had been to keep Mom and me from jeopardizing all that.

It gave me a whole new respect for my mom. We had nothing, and I’m sure there would have been more than one occasion where she would have really needed to use that money, yet she never did. She was too proud and too strong. It made me grateful for everything she’d ever given me.

Over the years I decided to forget about that man and his family. He lived close enough, it would have been easy for him to find me, check in and see how I was doing. But he was weak. I was a mistake he’d made that he thought he could buy out of. I may not have many people in my life but there’s no room for people like him. He could keep his fancy house and his respectable job, eat around the table with his perfect family and pretend to them and himself that he didn’t have secrets, because like my mom I’d never need him for anything.

It doesn’t take me long to find Tobias Saunders’ file, and it would take even less time for me to delete him altogether. But when his mugshot fills up my screen and I take him in properly something about him makes all the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. His eyes were riddled with evil, looking fit to burst from the pressure of the secrets they hold. I try telling myself that mugshots aren’t designed to get people’s good angle, although that hadn’t been the case with Jessie’s.

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