Chapter Twenty-seven
Mason
“Holy tailgate, Batman.”
“Are you for real?” Mason’s head was spinning. His truck was shot up and she was quoting ludicrous movie lines?
“I’m sorry,” Ashlyn snipped, cautiously prodding one of the holes riddled in his rear bumper. “Excuse me if I don’t know the appropriate reaction t-to . . . this.”
She was about a decibel short of screeching and her curious fingers began to tremble. Mason cursed himself for being an idiot. She wasn’t trying to be flippant. She was trying to cover the fact that she was scared to death.
“Hey.” Snatching her shaking hands away from his violated vehicle, Mason tugged her into his arms, grateful and a little concerned when she didn’t put up any resistance. “It’s okay.”
He held her tight, feeling the tremors affecting more than just her extremities.
“No, Mason. This is not—not okay.”
Again, idiot. “No, you’re right. It’s not. But we gotta go.”
His gaze tracked down the sidewalk and through the neighbor’s yards, looking for any sign of anything. Their driver for the evening had already left and who knew if his truck would start. Mason wasn’t sure it was a good idea to even try. Admittedly, he didn’t know much about cars or guns, but gas tanks and firepower didn’t sound like a great combination.
A deep growl rolled like thunder through the dark house. Tank barreled into the entryway and immediately lowered his head in apology when he saw who it was he was growling at. Ashlyn dropped to her knees in front of the dog and shocked Mason by throwing her arms around him.
“Tank!” Gripping handfuls of his scruff, she clung to the animal as she buried her face in his thick neck. “You’re okay. It’s okay, boy. Everything’s okay.”
Mason was having a hard time wrapping his head around everything. His truck been shot up. Just his truck. What did that mean? Was this threat meant for him alone? But it had happened here the one night he’d parked in her driveway. Why?
Giving Tank a quick scratch behind the ears, Mason helped Ashlyn to her feet. She moved through the kitchen, hallway, and living room turning on lights, while Mason pulled out his phone to dial the police. Something that was becoming far too common. Tank followed, not content to let his humans out of his sight. When she flipped the switch on the living room wall, her sharp gasp had Mason turning so fast he felt his head spin.
A sickening sense of dread roiled in the pit of his stomach at the sight of a small hole burrowed into the drywall. He searched and spotted a matching hole in the front window. Christ, a stray bullet had found its way inside. What is she’d been home? If something happened to her . . .
Mason found himself standing beside Ashlyn with no memory of getting there. She peered up at him and he pressed his forehead to hers. Closing his eyes, he breathed her in. Warm vanilla. Ashlyn was going to withdraw from the trial. He’d been the one to convince her not to. And now there were bullets being fired at her home.
“I’m sorry. I never should have—”
The silent press of her soft lips against his was as unexpected as her quiet sigh that sent fire racing through his veins. Mason slid his arms around her back, teasing her lips with soft sucks and gentle nibbles, never asking from anything more. Fear and her need for comfort had overrun her pride for a few minutes, but he felt her senses return in the way her body stiffened.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t . . . . I shouldn’t . . .” She struggled to free herself, but Mason wasn’t letting her go. Not this time. They’d taken a step forward, finally, and it had taken bullets to get them there. No way in hell was he letting her reclaim that distance now.
“Stop.” His firm command had her freezing in place. “Enough, Ash. You can’t keep pushing everyone away.”
“I’m not—”
“I get that it feels safer back there, behind those walls of yours, but sometimes . . .” He nestled closer, tucking away a wild curl. “Sometimes it’s safer with a little backup.”
Ashlyn stared up at him, looking more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. She was open, wide open, and right in front of him. Somehow it broke his heart and mended it at the same time.
“I . . .” Her lips pressed together and she drew a quick breath. “I’m scared.”
“I know you are.” Mason’s heart thundered inside his chest. “I am, too. You’re afraid to let me in. And I’m terrified that you won’t.”
Tears pricked her eyes and one slid down her cheek. Mason caught it with his thumb. He could see her struggling, her instincts telling her to run and hide, to protect herself. Her desires telling her something entirely different. She didn’t want to be alone anymore, but trust was something she was altogether unfamiliar with. She didn’t even trust herself.
***
The room smelled like lemon and fabric softener. All it had taken was a couple phone calls while the police went about their business and now Ashlyn and Mason stood in a suite at The Sanctum, an upscale, pricey hotel where his parents held a majority of their business functions.
“It’s nice.” Ashlyn had changed into leggings, a baggy sweater, and a pair of sneakers back at the house before packing the rolling bag sitting just inside the door. “Your parents didn’t have to—”
“They wanted to. Drop it.” The room was being charged to a corporate card as per his father’s instructions. Mason knew it couldn’t last forever, but he had every intention of keeping her away from that house for as long as possible.
“Well . . .” She tugged at the cable knitting of her sweater. “. . . thank them for me.”
“I will.”
Mason examined the room. To the left of the door was a galley-style kitchen with dark granite countertops and built in appliances. A microwave and a coffee pot sat on a free standing island. All the Ashlyn essentials. Straight ahead was a sitting area with a small sofa, arm chair and flat screen television.
A glass sliding door behind the couch drew Ashlyn deeper into the room past the separate doorway that led to the bedroom with the king-sized bed. The balcony was barely visible, but her gaze centered on the city lights glistening in the distance.
She pressed her hand to the cool glass. “Beautiful.”
Mason agreed, but it wasn’t the lights he was looking at. “Why don’t you sit? Relax. It’s been a long night.”
Trailing her fingers across the back, Ashlyn rounded the couch and sank into the cushions. They seemed to swallow her up.
“Okay.” Mason frowned. She was safe on the fifteenth floor. The hotel had a doorman, security, surveillance cameras, keycards . . . No one could reach her here. Still, leaving her felt like peeling away his own skin. “I guess I should—”
“Wait.” Small fingers curled around his wrist.
“What is it?” Dark lashes lifted, revealing crystalline blue eyes that had the ability to take his breath away every damn time, but not even her fancy makeup could cover the turmoil brewing in them. “What do you want, Ash?”
“I . . .” Voices in the hallway drew her attention to the door. A small child squealed with delight and a man’s laughter boomed. Ashlyn sighed. “I don’t know.”
Mason called bullshit.
“I think you do.” She just didn’t know how to ask for it.
Black nails stood in stark contrast to her pale skin as she dragged a hand down her face. “I don’t know if it’s right to want what I want. If it’s fair. To you.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Mason sat beside her and Ashlyn tipped into his side. She stayed there, pressed against his arm, quietly clinging until he touched her knee.
“I want you to stay.” Her whispered confession was nearly swallowed up by the air flowing through the vent near the floor.
“Good.” Mason pried her fingers from his wrist only to thread them through his. “Because there’s nowhere else I want to be.”
“It’s not that simple,” she argued, but to him it was. It was exactly that simple.
“What do you mean? You want me to stay. I want to stay. What isn’t simple about that?”