The Man Who Has No Soul (Soulless 1)

I was used to his silence, but sometimes it was disconcerting, because he was verbal in deep conversations. He could explain every thought and emotion in his head so clearly, paint me a picture with just his narration. But if we hadn’t seen each other for a while, he started over. Just saying good morning was impossible. “Ready?”

He moved to the SUV parked at the curb.

The sidewalks were already busy with people because everyone wanted to enjoy the city on their day off. People flooded the parks, wanting to get out of the shadows of the skyscrapers to enjoy the sun on the grass.

The driver opened the back door, but Deacon didn’t get in. He stepped into the road and got in on his own, letting me have the convenient seat like the last time we’d sat in a car together.

I got into the back and saw the two coffees sitting there.

Deacon looked out the window, his elbow on the doorframe with his knuckles against his mouth.

The driver took off, and we began our long drive out of the city and into the countryside.

Sometimes I wondered if Deacon knew how to be a gentleman and just chose not to be. He was cold, abrasive, and flat-out rude when we met. But he wasn’t like that anymore. He was innately kind. But then I wondered if he didn’t understand manners at all. He just did nice things because he actually liked me.

Made me feel special.

We didn’t say anything for forty-five minutes. He grabbed his coffee and drank it, scrolling through his phone and checking emails.

I didn’t say anything because I mirrored my clients’ moods. If they were in a talkative mood, I talked. If they weren’t, I stayed quiet. Deacon didn’t like to say much on a regular basis, let alone have a discussion that lasted over two hours.

Once we were far away from the city and into the country, the trees became taller, the brush became thicker, and the cars became sparser. We left the highway and turned onto a quiet road, moving around the curves as we came closer to the private community where all the rich people had their cabins.

Deacon didn’t say a word, but his shoulders relaxed and he breathed differently, as if he was more comfortable being in the middle of nowhere. Maybe that was why he was always in a bad mood in the city, hating all the traffic, the people, the meaningless chatter.

We checked in at the first security gate, handing over my name so we could get through. Then we drove down the road and got deeper into the wilderness, the lake on our left right out his window. The homes were spaced out, acres in between, the tall trees putting us in the middle of a forest.

Minutes later, we pulled up to the house.

I told the driver the code, and we drove up the long driveway, heavy trees on either side of the road.

Deacon clicked the button on the door so his window rolled down. He looked at the sunlight that filtered through the trees, let the fresh air brush over his skin. The sunlight showed how brown his hair really was, not black. It also made it clear how thick it was, how much there was to touch. He rested his head back, as if he could close his eyes and fall asleep.

I stared at him, watching every subtle change in his features, watched the sun brighten his skin, showed the flawlessness of his complexion. I only saw him indoors, and he looked so different in the great outdoors, so handsome.

The driver stopped at the entrance to the cabin.

Deacon sat there for a while and just stared at it, his eyes taking in details regular people would never notice.

I waited for him to make the first move.

Minutes later, he finally opened the door and stepped out.

I got out and moved around the SUV to his side.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at the front door. “When will the real estate agent be here?”

“No real estate agent.” I held up the keys. “My client gave these to me this morning.”

He turned to look at me.

“I knew you’d be a lot more comfortable experiencing the property alone instead of listening to a real estate agent talk your ear off.” I moved up the steps to the front door and unlocked it for him.

He was at my side a moment later, staring at my face as I got the door unlocked.

I opened the door and indicated for him to walk inside. “I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

He moved into the entryway then turned around to face me. “Come with me. I want your opinion.”

I tried not to let my eyes soften, but it happened anyway. I followed him inside, and we took the tour together.