Trix
Everything is so fucked up.
While I’m sitting in a hospital waiting room, unable to see Mason, who’s in a hospital exam room guarded by cops, Rex is at the police station. They’ve both been arrested for murder, but Mason’s stab wounds had to be attended to before—I take a shaky breath—before they take him to jail.
I’ve answered all the questions and given them all the information I have, everything from the night Svetlana was murdered until now. They know the truth, and even though they see me suffering for answers, they’ve given me none.
The door to Mason’s room opens, and Detective Hodgeson, the man who questioned me both at the scene and again here at the hospital, strolls out. His eyes latch on mine, and he waves off the cops who are with him. They nod and leave, and he heads over to take the seat next to mine.
I shift and wipe my palms on the fresh scrubs they gave me when I arrived. I was able to clean up a little in the bathroom, washing the blood and dirt from my arms and face, but the smell of death still lingers on my skin.
“Miss Langley.” With his dark hair and kind eyes, he smiles at me so sweetly that I almost cry.
No, hold back. I have to be strong for Mason.
“Is he okay?” I fist my hands in my lap.
He nods. “He’s fine. He’ll be sore, and I’m pretty sure they lost count of how many stitches he got, but he’ll be okay. Luckily, the knife missed all his vital organs.”
I exhale and my shoulders droop. “Oh, thank God.”
“You were very brave tonight.” The edge of anger tinges his words. “Things could’ve gone differently if we’d had better intel.” He shakes his head.
From what I understand, Jonah and Blake called the cops, and if they’d been even five minutes later . . . A shiver slithers up my spine. Detective Hodgeson’s words finally sink into my sleep-deprived and traumatized brain. “Wait . . . intel? What do you mean?”
He tilts his head, studying me. “I think you need to talk to Mr. Mahoney.”
I jerk my gaze from him to Mason’s hospital room door. “What? Can I? I mean they said I couldn’t.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “I think it’s okay. I’ll need to talk to the DA, but something tells me charges won’t be filed. Everything else you need to know you should probably hear from him.”
Taking that as permission, I shoot to my feet and move toward the door. His chuckle makes me pause, and I realize I was rude not to thank him. “Thank you,” I call over my shoulder then speed walk through the door that the guards had opened for me.
My heart pounds wildly as I step into the sterile room. My gaze goes to the bed, but it’s empty and looks like it hasn’t even been sat on. I move deeper into the room, but Mason’s nowhere to be found. Moving back to the hallway, light from the cracked bathroom door catches my eye. My cheeks heat, and I contemplate waiting until he’s finished, but the sound of his mumbled voice pulls me to peek inside.
I cover my mouth to keep from gasping aloud at the sight of Mason. His hands are flexed, fists braced on the sink, and his wide and powerful back ripples with tension. White gauze and tape litter his flawless skin in patches over his left bicep, forearm, and ribcage. My gaze slides down his muscular back to the swell of his backside, which peeks up from above the loose-hanging scrubs. I gawk shamelessly at him, this warrior.
My warrior.
“Trix, baby.” His soft whisper brings my eyes up to find him staring at me through the reflection in the mirror.
Time ceases as our gazes fuse in an unrelenting hold.
He studies the gauze wrapped around my upper arm and then drops his gaze to my neck, which is wrapped in bandages, with a few stitches underneath.
To think he was stabbed, could’ve died there in the middle of the desert as I held him to me. I’d never have survived that. My hand goes to my throat, realizing how quickly both our lives could’ve been over. Tears prick my eyes, and I roll my lips between my teeth to keep them from quivering.
He turns and crosses to me in long strides. “No, baby, don’t cry.”
Pulled tight to his chest, I wrap my arms around his hips.
“Shh. Everything’s okay.” He rubs my back, pressing firmly to loosen the tense muscles. “My brave surfer girl.”
The warmth of his bare skin on my cheek fills me with a sense of belonging. “I’m so sorry, Mason. This is all my fault. I should’ve walked away like you said. I should’ve—”
“No.” He grips my chin and tilts my head back to meet his glacial eyes. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever fucking apologize for them, do you understand?”
My eyes dart to the side. “Prison, Mason. I know what the detective said, but what if you end up in prison because of me?”
His eyebrows drop low beneath the shag of his blond hair. “About that . . .” He shifts me, and with his hand splayed at my lower back, he leads me to the bed. “There’s something you need to know.”
Whatever calm I’d found dissolves, and my blood turns cold.
He crawls onto the bed, motioning for me to join him on his right side. I curl into him, and he wraps an arm around me, settling in deeper.
“What is it?”
He clears his throat. “We got played.”
I jerk my head up and wince as pain slices through my neck. “What? By who?”
He presses my head back down to his chest, resting his big hand on my neck as if to soothe it. “Jessica’s pregnant and—”
“Oh wow, really? That sucks.” I shrug. “Spawn of the devil and all.” I can’t help but hate Drake after everything he put us through.
His thumb runs along the tender skin of my jaw in a way that feels like he’s trying to placate me. “Drake wanted out of his obligation to Elijah, but they made some kind of blood oath, a life for a life.”
He doesn’t have to explain more. This is the part of the story I already know. “I was the life.”
“Yes, and also a sacrifice that would bond an alliance he was forming with some new guys.” His fingers flex against my neck. “But apparently everything that happened tonight was put into motion months ago.”
Months?
“Your buddy Hatch was on the run in Mexico—”
“I know.”
He makes a sound deep in his chest, half groan, half growl. “Right, but what you don’t know is the cops found him.”
I peek up at him. “Really.”
“Mm-hm.” He presses my cheek back to his chest. “Turns out Hatch confessed to his crimes, and in order to get a more lenient sentence, he agreed to lead the cops to someone they’d been after for a long time now.”
“Elijah.”
“Exactly. So when Hatch realized Drake was Eli’s kid, he made sure to organize the drug deal that I stupidly interrupted.”
“Okay, so Hatch was working for the cops, but why did they kidnap me?”
“Drake wanted out; Eli wouldn’t let him go. After Drake found out Jess was pregnant, he went to the cops. He told them that he’d share all the information he had if they’d make sure to end Elijah and his crew and never tell them who’d outed their operation.”
“Oh my God, so . . .”
“The cops agreed, let D in on the fact that Hatch was working with them, and together they figured out a way to get Elijah and the majority of his crew away from the city and together where they could be taken down.”
“So they used me as bait.”
“Once Hatch found that picture of Svetlana at your place”—the growl in his voice demonstrates that the very idea of Hatch being in my place still makes him furious—“he’d found his golden ticket.” His thumb rubs my jaw again. “He knew all along Eli killed your sister, baby, and he knew once that piece of shit Eli knew you were snooping he’d never resist the urge to take you out too.”
My breath catches in my throat, but Mason’s warmth and soothing touch releases the tension. “Drake and Hatch were working for the cops, but that doesn’t mean things couldn’t have backfired.”
“Right.” His muscles tense. “I’ll never forgive Drake for using your life in this sick fuckin’ game.”
Relief washes over me. “If not me, then who?”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, if it wasn’t me they took, it would’ve been some other girl.” I shrug, suddenly more grateful than ever for the past few days of my captivity. “I’d never wish that kind of fear on any woman. Can’t even imagine how scared Lana must’ve been.” Tears burn my eyes, but I push them back and hold Mason tighter.
“Amazing.” The word drifts from his lips with an exhale. “I keep waiting for you to break down, for this all to be too much and for you to spiral, but you never do.”
“Just because I don’t wear the gloves doesn’t mean I’m not a fighter like you.”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, making me grin. “No, you’re ten times the fighter I’ll ever be, Beatriks.” His lips press softly into my hair.
“Poor Gia.” To consider what she must be going through makes my heart hurt. She always said Rex would kill Hatch if he ever found him. She’ll never admit it, but as much as she hates what Hatch became, I know she feels some kind of friendship with him.
Just as I did.
“She’ll be okay, Trix.” Another kiss to my head. “And so will you.”
His words remind me that this could be our last time together. He took human life with his bare hands and could be thrown in prison to pay for his sin.
“What’s going to happen to you?” I whisper.
He sighs, long and heavy with meaning. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll get officially arrested, be taken to jail. Hodgeson says the DA won’t prosecute and the cops are hoping all this shit is seen as justice served.”
I wrap my arms tighter around him, and he grunts, but when I try to pull my arm away, he holds it to him. “I’m sure he’s right.” No way could I stand to lose Mason to jail time. If I could somehow physically fuse our bodies together, I would. “Hatch’s involvement explains a lot.”
“Yeah, Detective Hodgeson said he’s requesting solitary—”
“Wait, what?” I plant my palm on Mason’s chest and push up to sitting. “Hatch is alive?”
He rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately, yes. Rex knew what he was doing, thought a lifetime in prison would be a better punishment than death, not to mention the cops needed as much info as they could get out of him. Can’t get shit from a dead man.”
“But Eli . . .?” I’m afraid to ask, but want to make sure I didn’t misunderstand.
“Elijah is dead.” A shadow passes through his eyes followed by resolve. “I killed him, and I’d do it again if it meant saving you.”
Mason
Saying good-bye to the Las Vegas County Police Department less than twenty-four hours after being taken there was better than I expected. I don’t know who pushed my case to the front of the line, but when I shove through the glass door and out into the desert sun, the grins on the faces of the three men waiting for me gives them away.
“Baywatch, welcome to the LVPD Ass Rape Club.” Blake loops an arm around my neck and thumps my back. “Now you gotta learn our motto.” He stands up tall, puffs out his chest, and cups his crotch. “You fuck with the law; they fuck right back. Protect your junk and your ass crack.”
I scratch my head, my lips curling. “I’ll pass on the membership, but if it’s okay, I’d like to transfer it to my brother.”
Blake laughs just as Rex approaches.
“Glad you’re out, man.” He shakes my hand but pulls me in for a quick hug.
“Hey, I have one question.” I scowl between Blake and Jonah. “Was it just some crazy coincidence that Hodgeson and Blake have history and he’s the one who orchestrated the whole takedown?”
I wait for them to fill in the blanks, to sate my curiosity.
They share another look and I shake my head. “See, that shit right there. What do you guys know that you’re not telling me?”
Blake steps forward. “Gia called us right after you two took off. I called Dave and he told me what was going down.”
Jonah shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “Couldn’t let you face that shit alone, brother. Hodgeson told us to hold back, let them do their job, said they had a shit ton of undercover men with Elijah and Hatch’s crew.”
No wonder that night didn’t end up a bloodbath. We thought we were outnumbered. But some of them were cops. Makes sense because none of us should’ve walked away.
“I made it clear that wasn’t an option.” Blake shifts his gaze from me to Rex. “We have each other’s backs. Always.”
Fuck if all this shit doesn’t make me want to cry like a pussy-ass baby. “So that’s why you guys kept holding me back that night. You knew the cops had a plan and—”
“We didn’t want you to fuck it up by getting killed.” Jonah slaps me on the back of the head. “Looks like your official.”
“Officially what?” I rub my injured arm as the wounds seem to flare with the reminder of that night.
He crosses his arms over his chest, looking lethal. “One of us.”
I absorb the warm feeling of belonging that seeps into my veins. All I’ve ever wanted is to be an equal member of the UFL Team, but from day one, I felt like an outsider, like a pledge who had to prove himself to be accepted.
I mirror Jonah’s stance. “So that’s it? All I had to do is kill someone?”
The air wires with tension, as if what I said was inappropriate or disrespectful. I’ll never regret what I did. Not a single day of my life will I feel bad for making it so Trix, her family, Drake, Jessica, and my niece or nephew, can all breathe easy knowing that evil bastard has been wiped from the earth. And if I serve time for that, I’ll gladly take it.
The guys are still quiet, all of them darting eyes between each other.
I shrug. “What? Too soon?”
With that they burst into laughter and lead the way toward the parking lot.
“Nice to see incarceration hasn’t changed you, Baywatch.” Rex slaps me on the back of the head as he passes.
“Ow, fuckface! How ’bout you let up on the stupid nicknames.” I rub my head. “If I’m an equal, why the fuck do you piss-suckers keep smacking me?”
“We like your hair.” Blake pulls open the back door of Jonah’s truck, ushering me in. “Come on, Hasselhoff. Quit being a bitch.”
I pass him and into the back seat when another stinging slap comes to the back of my head.
Fuckin’ hell, even though I’m tempted to whirl around and sink my knuckles into Blake’s chest, I don’t. Because brotherhood is about having each other’s backs, fighting for what’s best, and making sure your brother knows it.
Way my head’s burning, I don’t think I could ever forget it.
After the guys dropped me off at home, I took a long hot shower. Standing in the tiled space, my eyes closed, I remember the night Trix showed up in tears. How I wish I could go back, tie her up, and never set her free until she agreed to leave all that shit with Hatch alone.
If only.
With strict instructions to keep my wounds as dry as possible, I reluctantly shut off the shower and grab a towel when my phone vibrates on the bathroom counter. I grab it and move to answer when the caller ID catches my eye.
“Fuck.” I wrap my towel around my waist, hit “accept,” and head into my bedroom. “Got nothing to say to you.”
“You answered, so there’s a start.”
“I’m serious, Drake. I get that this was all planned and you needed an out, but next time, use your fucking woman as bait.”
I’m met with silence and then throat clearing. “Fuck, brother—”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” I stare across the room with the memory of Drake dragging my woman, blindfolded, cuffed, and gagged, to the desert for what she thought would be a slow death. “You’ve lost the right to call me brother.”
“We’re family.”
“Family isn’t dictated by blood. It’s determined by loyalty, and you proved you’re a selfish prick.”
He huffs out a breath. “Alright, I deserve that.”
“Fuck yeah, you do.” The memory of Trix, fear flashing in those violet eyes, her shirt soaked in blood, assaults me. Yeah, Drake deserves a lot worse.
“For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry. If I thought there was a better way, I’d have done it. They were gunnin’ for Trix anyway. I knew she’d be safe as long as Hatch and I were with her. Elijah would’ve sent one of his goons if I didn’t volunteer. I’d never let anyone hurt her.”
A feeling akin to regret rolls around in my gut, but I push it back, unable to fully accept his reasoning, even if on some level it does make sense.
I run a hand through my wet hair. “Need time.”
“I get that.”
Silence builds between us.
“Right well . . . Take care.”
I hit “end” and drop back to the bed. Fuck. He’s right. I know he is, but even with time, will I ever be able to forgive him?