Page 69 of The Mastermind

She widened her eyes and pushed my hand away. “I have my own credit card. I mean, it’s not black, but it’s mine. Plus, I’m not buying the entire shopping center, Remi. Thank you, though.” She kissed me gently on the lips.

As I put my card in my wallet, I realized what I had just done. I had never offered a woman my credit card. I had never trusted anyone to that extent or been that generous.

Audri was changing me at an unimaginable rate. The previous women I’d slept with would have loved to use my card.

“Ask the car service from the hotel to take you wherever you need. That’s included with the suite.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

I drove my Bugatti Chiron back to the private garage and swapped it out with my Maserati. I wasn’t taking my precious car to visit a homeless shelter in New Haven, Connecticut. Anything could happen to it.

After I changed into slacks and a T-shirt, I headed out. I calculated it would take over an hour to get there and another to get back, not including the meeting time. I’d do my best to make it home before she went to bed.

I’d gotten a name of a person who had been homeless during my time at Yale.

He was now working at the homeless shelter to help other men who had been in his position. I didn’t know if he would be helpful to me, but I had to try.

As I drove to Connecticut, the past surfaced in my memory. When I said I was flawed, I meant it. Blood had stained my hands. I had only been nineteen, still a student, still a boy learning his way through life.

I quicken my steps on the sidewalk as I walk past the local market and gas station, heading back to my apartment, only three blocks away. I can call a cab or take the bus, but I like the fresh air.

Footsteps sound behind me, and I whirl to a man wearing a baggy coat and dirty pants.

He jerks out a hand. “Give me your wallet.”

Fear knots my stomach. I’ve never encountered a situation like this before. I give him my wallet, but he doesn’t leave. Wielding a knife, he glances around as if looking for someone. “You with me or not?”

No one answers because no one is around.

I bolt, but he catches up. “Sorry, kid. I need to eat.”

What kind of criminal apologizes before hurting his victim?

Terror and the need to survive overwhelm me. He attacks me, and I block his arm. He attacks again, and the cold blade presses against my neck. I shove his arm with all my might and he shifts his hand and stabs the knife into my abdomen. Pain scorches me.

He extracts the knife, forcing another shot of pain through my body. Fear, adrenaline, and the need to survive roar through me. We struggle, and he drops his knife. Panicking, I pick up the knife and stab blindly at him. I don’t know what I’m doing as fear and adrenaline collide in me.

He fights me off and grabs my shoulders. Time seems to stop when I meet his vicious eyes. That connection makes me aware of the knife in my hand and the dangerous situation I’m in. Either he kills me, or I kill him. I’m not ready to die. I stab him again, and this time, I feel the blade pierce deeply into his stomach. Blood pools on the ground and soaks my hands.

When he finally collapses, I drop the knife and scoot away. My body trembles as I see life escape his eyes.

Reliving that moment made me realize how certain events changed me forever. I would never forget when the knife broke through his skin, how his body shuddered as he shouted in pain. Or how I had seen life drain from him and I was the reason. I reminded myself that I had earned a scar on my abdomen from his attack.

The camera from the business across the street caught everything, which showed the man had attacked me. The recordings helped the police investigation. I’d gotten my lawyer and didn’t want the police, the university, or the news reporter to include my name in the attack, so I paid people off to leave me out of it. Though my dad wasn’t involved in my life, he would’ve inquired if he had heard about the attack. I didn’t want to talk to him. Mallory and Brian couldn’t care less. The case closed quickly, and I moved on. No one knew the attacker’s motive. Maybe he had been on drugs or was mentally unstable.

The fact that I had killed a man weighed on me. For a short time, I had blamed myself for the manslaughter. I had been a young man trying to grasp onto the roller coaster of life, and even though I had taken a man’s life in self-defense, it still changed me. A layer of guilt had cloaked me for a while, so I understood the demons that clawed at Audri. They were always on the side, reminding you of what you’d done, regardless of fault.

I had buried that part of my life away until Brian had said something at the charity event.Is this how you killedthat guy at Yale?

From what I knew of my stepbrother, he wasn’t interested in my life. So why would he know something as trivial as an attack on an out-of-state college student whose name wasn’t included in any media outlet? How had Brian found out?

There was no way I’d let that tidbit of information slide. His arrogance and pride probably thought I wouldn’t have connected the dots. I had contacted my PI and requested he prioritize this issue.

I pulled into the homeless shelter’s parking lot, a block from where that assault had occurred. The brick building looked decent, with four floors of windows. I strode into the front office, and a lady wearing a pink shirt greeted me.

“I’m here to see Timothy Jones. I believe he’s the manager.”

“He is. Tim is the best one we’ve ever had. Come this way.” She led me to a waiting area with cushioned chairs and a lot of donated books. “He’ll come out to get you soon.”

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