5
~Lucy~
“One decaf, super dry, soy cappuccino,” I called out, plunking the ceramic mug down on the pickup station.
I shot a glance towards the cash register. The line had finally disappeared. We’d worked our way through it over the last hour. It was what we called the five o’clock rush that always hit us crazy hard once all the nine-to-fivers got out of work and came in jonesin’ for their after-work, wind-down coffees. Abi stood there brewing fresh pots, wiping her sleeve across her sweat-drenched brow. She grinned my way and gave me a chin lift. It was her way of telling me a job well done. We always worked well together. While we were friends and we both wanted the best for each other, I knew she’d been having a hard time accepting my potential plans and that they could mean putting an end to our working relationship. Well, actually to us seeing each other at all, except maybe on the odd occasion.
“Thanks, Doll. Perfect, as always.”
I blinked out of my thoughts, turning my attention back to the pickup station. Bill, one of our regulars, stood winking at me as he snatched up his decaf, soy cappuccino. His stark, white hair was almost as shocking as the smile he offered up to me. He was known as a moody, old bastard around town. A bitter retiree who cared for nothing and nobody, except for his wife, a shy, gentle woman who always kept to herself. But I had a suspicion that Bill’s reputation wasn’t all it was made out to be. I’d managed to extract a smile from him several times, as had Abi. All it took was us perfecting his drink order and he was happy as a clam. The old guy wasn’t as bad as the rumors made him out to be.
Apparently, that didn’t go for everybody. Some rumors and reputations were rooted in the God’s honest truth. Sometimes, where there was smoke, there really was fucking fire. Just like I’d learned with Mason Asshole Cross. As I watched Bill walk over to his favored booth by the window, I gazed out at the street, letting my thoughts wander, as I shook my head to myself.
One week.
It’d been one week since I’d woken up to find him gone.
Gone from my bed. Without a word!
A note would’ve even been something. A text, maybe.
But, no. Nothing.
“Mine,” he growled, fisting his hands in my hair.
He fused his mouth to mine, tasting my lips, roughly angling my head where he wanted me in a deliciously dominating move that sent bolts of desire rippling up and down my spine.
His words and his actions had been indicative of a claiming. They hadn’t just been one-night-stand actions. It hadn’t been hollow like that. It had felt like something, like it’d meant something.
Then again, what did I really know? It had been my first time. I was just going by what I’d read, seen, or heard from others. For all I knew, maybe his plan all along had been to fuck me out of his system, so he could clear his head and go back to living an uncomplicated life without worrying about the sexual tension between us screwing with him. It felt wrong to think him capable of such an awful thing, of such a betrayal. But, then again, we’d been estranged for so long. Did I really know him as well as I thought I did anymore? Was he still the same man? That night he’d claimed his hatred for me had been an act to protect me from himself, but maybe that had been the act?
I didn’t know what to believe.
All I did know was that I hadn’t heard squat from him since we’d slept together a week ago and I’d woken up alone in bed to find him gone. I’d felt him watching me, tailing me since then, seen his bike around, but I hadn’t caught sight of him. So, he was still doing his stalking duty on my brother’s behalf, but he’d kept out of my sight. What was going on with him?
A slap to my shoulder startled me. “Let’s go, Lu Lu.”
Craning my neck, I strained to see Abi grinning at me, her eyes glinting with mischief. Uh oh. “Go? I’m working a double.”
“I switched your shift. Andrea’s covering for you. She’ll be here any moment.”
“What?” I demanded, pulling from her shoulder hold. “But I—”
“Don’t say you need the money, because you’ve already worked doubles four times this week and it’s now Saturday afternoon. You need a night off. And I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. We’re going out.”
I screwed up my face with distaste. That was the last thing I wanted. I was not in the mood for one of her crazy nights out. With Abi, there was no such thing as low-key. She couldn’t just sit and have a drink. No, when she went out, it was to party. Hardcore. I wasn’t that sort of person at the best of times. But, especially not now. I wanted to wallow alone at home over the Mason thing, the fact that my life in Warlow was coming to an end. It was how I processed things, how I got them out of my system and then moved the hell on. Others, like Abi, went about doing that through self-destructive behavior, like drinking themselves under the table and hooking up with random, questionable guys. That wasn’t my way.
“Look, Abi, I really don’t want—”
She rounded on me and grabbed my hands, fixing me with an imploring gaze. “Please, Luce. I need you. All the shit with Liam… it’s driving me crazy, he’s driving me crazy. I need a release.”
Yeah, she’d told me all about the latest drama between her and the Steel Titans VP. Liam had sabotaged her special night with Brent a week back. He’d shown up outside Brent’s home and proceeded to rev his Harley repeatedly until neither one of them could take it anymore, forcing Abi from the house, just to shut him up. It had resulted in a huge blow up between Abi and Liam, ending with Abi storming off home.
And now, here Abi was, calling out the best friend card. I couldn’t say ‘no’ now. I had to step up.
“Okay, what’s on the agenda tonight?”
A smile lit up Abi’s face as she gushed excitedly, “A mega house party.”
Oh, fucking great. Worst nightmare, here I come.
“I’m guessing I can’t just go like this then?” I asked, eyeing my black jeans and t-shirt ensemble.
She shook her head, frowning. “God, no.”
Before I could get another word out, her eyes darted past me and she squealed, “Great! Andrea’s here! Let’s go and get ready! I’m gonna have you looking drop-dead hot, Lu Lu!”
***
I finally managed to release my first full breath as Abi and I squeezed past a pack of over-zealous drinkers crowding the open door of the dilapidated mansion and stepped out onto the porch. As soon as the fresh night air hit me, I welcomed the soothing effect it had on my body. I was so overheated that the chilly November temperature felt like heaven, despite the fact that I wasn’t dressed for it. That was a major understatement. I didn’t even have a jacket. Abi’s fault. Thanks to her, I’d never felt so uncomfortable in my own skin. It wasn’t a sensation I was familiar with. I was a confident, proud woman. I always walked with my head held high. But tonight I’d let Abi drag me way too far into her world, so far beyond my comfort zone that it felt like the proverbial ground beneath my feet was constantly shifting, making it impossible for me to gain a reassuring sense of stability.
I pulled at my top—well, Abi’s. Aside from my thigh-high leather boots, the rest of my outfit was straight out of her wardrobe. She’d told me that my clothes wouldn’t cut it. As soon as we’d stepped into the house an hour earlier, I’d been unable to deny the truth of it either. Holy shit, it was like a hooker convention. I looked tame compared to what some other women were wearing and that was saying a fuck of a lot. The purple crop top I had on was skin tight with cut outs in strategic places and I constantly worried that my boobs would pop out of it, so I was pulling at it every few seconds. A black mini-skirt barely covered my thighs and if that wasn’t revealing enough, it had a slit up the right side that pretty much extended up to my panty line. Yeah, hooker wear. As for Abi, she might as well have been wearing an actual bikini with the tiny neon-blue booty shorts and bralette she was wearing. A pair of silver stilettos completed her look and her vibrant red hair was pulled into a high-ponytail, revealing a sexy pair of silver, diamond-studded hoops. Her goal was obviously to draw as much attention to herself as possible. And she’d knocked it out of the park.
I just wished she hadn’t taken me along with her.
“It’s really popping in there, huh?” she cried excitedly, between sips from her beer bottle.
Looking out at the street and wishing I was walking down it, as far away from the party as possible, I swallowed down the negativity and took a large gulp of my beer instead and just nodded. She’d told me she needed me. I couldn’t let her down. She was my friend. The only friend I had these days. I didn’t let people get close to me. After growing up on the run, I’d learned the dangers of letting people in, of trusting. It’d been Cole, Mason and I for years. Our trust circle. Our family. Nobody else. It’d taken me a long time to even be able to consider Abi a friend. Even now, though, I still held a lot back. It was just the way I was wired, the way I always would be.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“What?” I spluttered, almost spraying my mouthful of beer across the porch. I forced a hard swallow and eyed her warily. I hated those words. Or, perhaps feared was more accurate. Talking about things meant opening up. Trusting. A risk I didn’t like to take.
“I talked your ear off all about the bullshit drama going on between Liam and me. I feel bad that you’ve been going through something all on your own that’s had you down all week. I thought you needed space to work through it, but I can see you’re still really down, Lu Lu.”
Was I being that transparent about it? That wasn’t like me. That asshole had me all twisted up inside.
Forcing a smile, I told her, “I’m fine. It’s just the whole leaving decision hanging over my head.”
She raised one perfectly-waxed eyebrow.
“What?” Why wasn’t she buying it?
“There was a condom in the bathroom trash can.” Quickly, she held up her hand. “I wasn’t spying. It’s just, it was my turn to take out the trash and it caught my eye. I haven’t been having sex at the apartment for the last couple of weeks, so it wasn’t one of my guys’.”
Shit. “Huh.” I chugged back half of my beer.
She grinned, clearly not falling for my poor attempt at pretending it wasn’t a big deal. “I knew your funk this last week was about a guy!”
Double shit. “It’s nothing. Really, don’t worry about it.”
“Nothing? You lost your virginity, right?”
“How do you—I mean—you knew that I was—?”
She rolled her eyes. “We’ve lived together for years. You’ve never had a guy over. You’ve never even talked about a guy, not even an ex. You blush whenever I talk about my… conquests. I put the pieces together.”
“Oh. Well, it wasn’t anything to write home about, regardless.” What a lie that was. Holy shit.
She did that eyebrow-arching thing again. She didn’t believe me. “Who was it?”
“One of my dates.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just wondering how you managed to sneak him past Mason.”
Hearing his name shook me to my core. I’d tried so hard to keep from thinking about the jerk, earlier at the shop, notwithstanding. He’d hurt me. And the only way to deal with hurt was to push it down. Far, far down. It’d been difficult enough to pretend he didn’t exist when I knew he was watching my back on my brother’s behalf. And now, hearing his name out loud… it was almost too much to bear. Immediately, it shocked me back to the events of that night. His fingers, tongue and teeth all over my body. Moving together, tangled up in my bed. The dirty words he’d whispered to me that’d had me begging him for everything he had to give… and more.
“Well?” Abi pressed.
My gaze snapped to hers abruptly, slamming the door closed on my graphic reminisces. “I… uh… have my ways.” I shifted my weight against the porch railing. “Don’t forget, I’ve been dealing with overbearing pricks like Mason and my brother for years. I know how to get around them.”
We both chuckled at that.
Thankfully, I was saved from any further interrogation when something caught her eye. Following her line of sight, I zoned in on a frat boy, his abs on display, because he’d only bothered to button his navy shirt at the middle. His dark, wavy hair was gelled beyond belief—talk about product overload—and his face was baby-smooth, suggesting he couldn’t actually grow facial hair. He was smirking and crooking his finger Abi’s way. So fucking smarmy. But, apparently, she was down for that, because, the next thing I knew, she was placing her beer down and turning to me.
“Are you okay on your own for a bit?”
“Abi, I’m not sure about him. You’ve had a few. Maybe just take it easy here for a bit. I’ll get you some water.”
“Please. I’m fine.” She ruffled my hair. “This is how people party, Lu Lu. Lighten up.”
I didn’t get the chance to say more. She took off, heading back into the house, towards Frat Boy.
Lighten up? I knew how to have fun. Our ways of going about that were just very different. Mine consisted of riding my old Harley down the winding country back roads at top speed, stunting with the boys of the Steel Titans MC every now and then. Dirt biking after a downpour. Hiking and climbing the mountains surrounding Warlow. Designing future tats and creating my jewelry; doing what I loved. Not getting shit-faced at a house party filled with horny college guys I didn’t know who’d rented a run-down mansion for the summer to live without rules so they could engage in underage drinking, relentless fucking and hard drug use. The second I’d walked into the house, I’d witnessed a large group gathered around a coffee table snorting lines of coke. Normally, I’d chalk all of it up to being none of my business. But my friend was involved. And she was in a bad place at the moment. She was hurting, which meant she was incredibly vulnerable, whether she was prepared to recognize that, or not.
Shit. I had to go back inside that hellhole to keep an eye on her.
But, first, I needed to text my brother. I couldn’t take another day of knowing Mason was watching me after what’d happened between us. I needed to give Cole a kick in the ass to get him home as soon as possible, so Mason would no longer be assigned as my protection detail. Argh. What a complete joke the entire thing was anyway. I could take care of myself. The idiots had both taught me how to fight. I wasn’t a clueless, helpless, girly-girl.
Shaking my head to myself, I pulled my phone out of my purse. My eyes widened when I noticed the crazy number of missed calls and unopened text messages. All in the last hour, or so. Since we’d arrived at the house party. With the pounding dance music reverberating through the place, it was no wonder I hadn’t heard the notifications. None of them were from Cole though.
No, they were from one person only. The last person on the planet that I wanted to hear from.
Mason Cross.
I scrolled through the first few:
U gave ur shift away?
What’s going on?
U okay? Tell me ur safe ASAP.
R U SAFE?
The last text sent a shiver of trepidation down my spine. He was pissed. Not a good thing when it came to a man like Mason. People had been known to be left suffering on the brink of death for incurring his wrath. He was not a man to get on the bad side of. Of course, I didn’t think for one second that he’d actually hurt me, but I still didn’t relish the prospect of dealing with that temper of his. And if he worked me up to the point of invoking mine and ours clashed… all hell would break loose.
How did he know? How?
He called the coffee shop at the crack of dawn to check my hours every day. Then, he showed up when I was done and followed me home at a distance and that was that. It was the same every day. The way he worked his daily protection detail routine. So, why had he broken that? What had tipped him off that something had changed?
Urgh. I’d deal with it tomorrow. He didn’t know where I was, so it wasn’t an issue right now. I texted him back: Safe. Relax. Hopefully, that would get him to back off. Besides, as pissed as I was with him, I didn’t want to cause a shitload of trouble by having him assume I was in some sort of danger. Knowing him, he’d overreact and involve the club. Being hunted down by all of them was the last thing I needed.
I stuffed my phone back into my purse and started towards the front door, intending to head back into the house to keep an eye on Abi. I’d just have to contact my brother later, because Abi had been left unsupervised for far too long now. As I approached the front door, I scanned the interior through the bay window. I couldn’t see her anywhere. Crap.
“Where are you off to, sweet thing?”
I determined the male voice was being projected at me. I saw its owner in my peripheral vision. But I didn’t break my stride. I was on a mission. And that didn’t include wasting my time on horny, wasted college guys. I was here for Abi. Simple as that.
But as I reached the door and a figure shrouded by the shadow of the darkened room inside filled the doorway, it suddenly became all too obvious that the bastards weren’t down for giving me a choice in the matter. Adrenaline shot down my spine. My body tensed, readying itself. I felt my fists clench. Fight, or flight? There wasn’t much of a choice. Abi was inside their house. I couldn’t leave her there. There was no flight option available. I could try to talk them down, but I never had been one to bargain for an easy ride. No, if they escalated things, I’d step up. I didn’t back down. I didn’t bow. Nobody would wield power over me, or compromise my freedom. Hell, it was the whole reason for me preparing to take my leave of Warlow—my brother going too far with his overprotectiveness and now encroaching on my freedom of choices.
The figure stepped forward, the floodlights from the porch bathing him in light. He was built like a linebacker. Huge, burly, and with a sizeable beer gut. His pupils were so dilated, I could tell he was high off his ass. It looked like he hadn’t showered in days, his shoulder-length hair was so disgustingly greasy as he gave his head a jerk to shake it out of his eyes. His loose-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants were stained with what looked like Cheetos, or some other sort of cheesy chip residue.
Folding his arms across his chest, he lifted his chin at the guy behind me, then grinned my way. “My boy asked you a question.”
“Yeah? Are you his boyfriend?”
His eyes narrowed. “That bitchy mouth of yours doesn’t go with what you’re selling.”
I scoffed. “I’m not selling anything.” Stepping forward, I demanded, “Now, move. My friend’s in there.”
He stayed put, puffing out his chest and glaring down at me. As if that would scare me. Talk about trumped up muscle. He had no idea what real muscle was. My past had hardened me and it took a fuck of a lot to scare me. His posturing was ludicrous and it was a strain for me to hold back an explosion of full-blown laughter; that wouldn’t help the situation any.
“Your friend is with the head of our household. You’re going to leave them be,” he told me.
“The hell, I am.”
Fingers slid along my hip all of a sudden, making me jump. The guy behind me. I felt him step closer before I had the time to react, his breath hot on my neck as he said, “We’ll keep you company, sweet thing.”
My instincts screamed at me to take him down; to take both of them down. To deal out the punishment they deserved for denying me access to my friend in need, for disrespecting me and, worst of all, for daring to lay hands on me.
But I was no fool. I had keen street smarts. The kind that only someone who’d actually spent time living on them could possess. I might’ve assimilated into a relatively normal life since we’d settled in Warlow a few years back, my connection to the MC notwithstanding, but that mentality would never really leave me. That was something that the posers I was facing off with were sorely lacking. They’d gone straight from the security of their parents’ homes to the false sense of adulthood that was college. No taste of the real world to speak of.
And that was why, despite my overwhelming desire to knock both of them on their asses, I resisted. The sleazebag touching me was a lot smaller than Sweatpants barring the door. Leaner and a real preppy douche, all sports coat and designer dress pants. He wouldn’t be an issue. But even Sweatpants would fall hard at my hands. When the time was right.
As it was, all eyes on the crowded porch were on me. A quick glance through the bay windows told me my confrontation with Sweatpants and Preppy had drawn attention from some of their buddies inside as well. So, if I took the bastards down in front of them, I’d spark a major reaction from their friends. One that would be beyond my ability to handle. Thirty-to-one weren’t odds I was comfortable with.
“That sounds good,” I said, forcing myself not to rip Preppy’s hand from my hip.
Sweatpants cocked an eyebrow, clearly suspicious. “Yeah?”
I eased out of Preppy’s hold to face them both. Striking a sexy pose that drew their eyes straight to my boobs, I said, “Sorry I was so worked up, boys. It’s too crowded here.” I fluttered my eyelashes. “My car’s parked just ‘round the corner. What do you say?”
Preppy’s eyes lit up. “Both of us?”
I smirked. “Too much for you?”
Sweatpants bolted from the doorway. “Not at all, beauty,” he cut in quickly, clearly worried I’d rescind the offer if they didn’t act fast enough. “Lead the way.” He gestured towards the porch steps ahead of us.
I shot a wink at Preppy and then sauntered down the steps with them following at my back.
So damn easy. Idiots.
I downed the rest of my beer, drinking the bottle dry. As we rounded the corner, I nearly spewed my mouthful out all over the sidewalk. What the hell?
Half a dozen motorcycles were parked down one side of the street. Steel Titans bikes. I recognized each one of them, knew each member they belonged to. What were they doing here? It didn’t escape my notice for a second that Mason’s bike wasn’t among them.
All right, so their bikes were here. But Mason’s wasn’t. And the guys were nowhere to be seen. They were probably just in the neighborhood on some other business then. I was just being paranoid even thinking for a second that they’d shown up in relation to me.
“You okay, sweet thing?”
I plastered a fake smile on my face and turned to Preppy. “I’m about to be more than okay, I hope.”
The two of them grinned at me and Sweatpants told me, “That’s a guarantee, beauty.”
Urgh. I shook off my brief freak out over the unprecedented Steel Titans presence and turned in the opposite direction, further up the road where I’d parked my silver Pontiac Sunfire.
“So, how do you want to do this?” Sweatpants asked, once we reached my car.
I pulled my keys out of my purse, unlocked the car and tossed my purse down on the passenger seat. By the time I emerged, Preppy was in my space, boxing me in against the side of the car. I forced a fake moan from my lips and called over my shoulder to Sweatpants, “Put the seats down and we’ll join you.”
He nodded and then called to Preppy, “Get her ready for me.”
I’d reached my limit. It was a good thing I didn’t have to play the part anymore. I’d led them away from their friends, from witnesses. Time to unleash my true feelings and then get Abi the hell out of that house.
So, as Preppy leaned in to press his lips to mine, I jerked my head to the side, grabbed the back of his head and smashed his face into the side of my car. As he cried out, I shoved out of his hold, then gripped his hair and tugged hard, hissing, “You don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours! Women aren’t your playthings, asshole!” I slammed his face into the side of the car again, then kicked at the backs of his knees, forcing them to give out instantly. He groaned as he crashed to the rough concrete in a heap, clutching his bloodied face in his hands.
Cursing and heavy footsteps behind me warned me that Sweatpants was stepping into the proverbial ring, gunning for me. I thrust my elbow backwards, driving it strategically up into his diaphragm to wind the crap out of him. It worked and he choked, stumbling back. But, as I spun around, I realized I’d underestimated his level of sheer rage. It was obviously enflaming his adrenaline levels and enabling him to push past the pain and discomfort.
And that was why, his mammoth fist came flying at me while my guard wasn’t up, my fists still down from my previous blow. Oh, shit. This is going to hurt.
It all happened in a rapid-fire rush.
I was so focused on the sight of the fist coming at me and the brutal blow I needed to absorb, that I didn’t even see anything else coming; my peripherals were locked down without me even realizing it.
A muscular, inked arm wrapped around Sweatpants’ torso and literally ripped him off his feet, tossing him off to the side, just a few inches shy of his fist connecting with my cheek. Holy hell.
To say I was shocked was such an understatement. I could barely draw in a breath. My whole body was trembling with an overload of exploding adrenaline, so much so, that I stumbled back against my car, desperate for the support.
Fucking hell. He stood there.
“You okay?” he boomed over at me.
“I…” My throat was too dry to get more than a monosyllabic pant out.
“Luce? You hurt?” he pressed.
I swallowed hard a couple of times until I finally found I was able to speak again. “No. I’m fine, Mason. Fine.”
“Hey! Thug-for-hire!” Sweatpants bellowed, his nostrils flaring, as he dug the heels of his sneakers into the sidewalk with a furor like that of a raging bull seeing nothing but the targets it was determined to stampede all over. A huge mistake on his part. He had no idea who he was dealing with.
Mason’s expression transformed abruptly from the endearing one of soft concern he’d gifted me with. As his gaze darted to Sweatpants, his features hardened to granite, a cold, unforgiving glare hurtling his way. Nervously, I watched his hand curl into a formidable fist, one I was aware from reputation was capable of dealing out so much punishment. Punishment that’d been known to be fatal in some cases.
“Mason,” I entreated.
I saw his fist unclench ever so slightly. Relief filled me. It looked like he was going to listen to me. Yet another thing that set him apart from my brother, who would’ve let his ego, or his rage completely take him over. He could never come back from it once something riled him up. Yet, Mason could. Logic and reason always took precedence instead of unruly emotion or any other destructive crap with him.
“Walk away,” he called out to Sweatpants.
The idiot squared his shoulders. Oh no.
Mason shook his head and reached out to me. “Let’s go, little darlin’.”
I thought we were home-free. Mason had calmed. Sweatpants hadn’t moved a muscle or said another word. But we’d barely taken a couple of steps past my car, with Mason trying to lead me away when the foolish college kid shot everything to hell.
“What’s your problem, Thug-Life? You want a run at the bitch, you wait your turn, because I’m first in line. I’ll let you watch, but it won’t be pretty after the way she hurt my boy. She needs a lesson. She might be all used up by the time you get your turn, but if you play nice, I’ll save some of the good stuff for you.”
The guy had a death wish.
Mason stopped short, his whole body stiffening. A snarl ripped from him, an actual animalistic snarl.
And then he was no longer beside me.
He was on Sweatpants before I had time to even blink.
I barely saw his first punch fly, it flew forward like a strike of lightning, producing a similar devastating effect the moment it made contact with its target, its true goal: to annihilate whatever solid element lay in its path.
Sweatpants’s head whipped to the side and the blow’s power had his heels ripping out of their stabilizing dug outs. His sneakers scraped across the concrete as he was forced to stagger back several steps.
The next blow was the beginning of a ruthless rapid-fire assault that had Sweatpants doubling over within seconds. As Mason unleashed his fury, he bellowed curses and lessons at him, denouncing him for his disrespect towards me and a slew of other infractions, some I’d barely even had the downtime to acknowledge myself. No amount of screaming protests from me resonated, none broke through the dangerous headspace Mason was immersed in.
There was blood everywhere, spewing from God only knew how many nasty cuts all over Sweatpants’s face, arms and I could only guess how many other wounds hidden beneath his clothing. Holy shit. Mason was going to kill him if he didn’t let up!
I bolted forward, straining my voice to its limit with my screams for Mason to stop, that the foolish guy had learned his lesson many times over. Nothing. No indication that he’d heard me at all.
I knew what I had to do and I worried at the thought, because Mason was clearly so completely out of control. I had to intervene. Physically.
Just as that crossed my mind, Mason’s next actions confirmed that necessity, as he ripped his gun from its holster at his right hip, cocked it in one swift motion and stabbed the muzzle against Sweatpants’s temple.
“Mason! Don’t!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
But the look in his steely eyes was one of a man already resigned to let another part of his soul decay in favor of wiping out the life before him.
I didn’t waste my breath again. We were way beyond that. His Desert Eagle was shoved against a guy’s skull, for goodness sake! Instead, I did something majorly dangerous.
As Mason stepped back, gave Sweatpants a kick that sent him rolling onto his back with a scream, I darted into the tight gap between them. Right into Mason’s line of fire.
Instantly, that killer’s fire that’d lit his eyes was snuffed out. It was as if seeing me standing down the barrel of his gun had broken the all-consuming spell that’d taken him over. He blinked hard and lowered his gun. It wasn’t lost on me that he didn’t flip on the safety though. He wasn’t ready to stand down and walk away.
“Luce, move,” he gritted out.
“No,” I said, strengthening my stance to make it clear to him that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Do it freely, or I’ll make you move, lock you in your car,” he warned.
Giving him orders wasn’t working. I had to change tactics and I had to do it fast.
“Please, Mason. Don’t do this. The punishment doesn’t fit the crime. And it’ll be on me, okay?”
He jolted. “What?”
“This kill. It’ll be on me.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m the one pulling the trigger.”
“Because of me. I can’t live with the responsibility of that. So, I’m asking you, please don’t make me. Please just leave it now.”
Time ticked by. What felt like the quite real possibility of becoming infinite.
Until he finally breathed a heavy sigh, flashed me a withering look, flipped the safety on his gun and holstered it.
I couldn’t contain the relief that slammed into me and I threw myself at him, throwing my arms tightly around him. I wasn’t sure if it was all just relief, or if part of it was to make damn sure he remained waving the white flag and didn’t draw his weapon again.
His hands came up, circling my back, responding to mine, pulling me in tighter, holding me to him with desperate urgency. “Fuck, Luce,” he breathed in my ear. “Fuck.”
The intensity of his words hit me deep down. Now he’d come down from his worked up state, he realized the true horror of the extent he’d very nearly gone to. He’d almost killed a man.
For me.