Cassie
My eyes blinked open. Mason was not in bed beside me. Voices came from the front room. The small safehouse where Mason and I had bunked down was so small that I could clearly hear Mason’s deep voice. I slipped out of bed and pulled on the panties and jeans Mason had dropped in a pile on the floor by the bed. As I pulled my shirt over my head, I edged closer to the door.
Khloe’s voice came to me.
“This is on you, Mason. Those girls died because of you. I was trying to protect you.” The woman’s voice trembled with anger. “I’ve strived to stay neutral, but you had to go and pull me into conflict with that maniac.”
She sounded upset and my brow furrowed in worry. The girls at the brothel had been killed? I gasped softly.
“You can’t lay that on me,” I heard Mason growl back. “No one told you to stick your neck out for us.”
“So, that’s how it is?” Khloe’s voice was filled with disgust. “I’ve had enough. You aren’t worth this. I’m not risking my girls for any of you anymore. I just thought you should know that Ruiz is after Cassie and you. I gave you up, for all the good it did my girls.”
My mind stuck on the comment about Mason not being worth this. I was so wrapped up in wondering what that meant that I missed part of the exchange between the two of them.
“We’ve been through a lot,” Mason growled.
“Don’t I fucking know it,” Khloe sounded outraged. “You brought that girl out here to play house. I don’t care about the war. Now its personal. You and Ruiz can measure you dicks all you want. In the end, you’re just sad little boys.”
There was a crashing sound, and I cringed. They sounded like old lovers fighting. I had heard arguments like that before.
Before I could even begin processing all the doubts and fears in my mind, I heard the door slam and Mason sigh and curse under his breath.
I realized it would look like I’d been eavesdropping if Mason came back into the room now. I quickly took the clothes back off and tried to pile them back the way they had been. If he came back in, perhaps he wouldn’t notice.
I slipped back under the covers and pretended to sleep, but the minutes dragged by and Mason did not return.
***
The next morning, I found Mason sitting at the kitchen table. I wondered suddenly if he had even been back to bed. Obviously, he had changed clothes at some point. He had on clean jeans and a gray t-shirt. The look he gave me held a sadness that I did not expect.
“Morning,” I said softly.
I grabbed a glass and got some of the orange juice I deemed still relatively safe to drink. It was hard to keep up with groceries when we were moving around so much.
“You okay?”
Mason grunted. He had a bottle I didn’t remember seeing before in his hand. Had he been out? My mind went back to Khloe’s visit. He must have been upset by what had happened, but he didn’t know that I knew about that. I bit down on my questions.
“Did you sleep?” I asked, raising the glass to my lips.
I took a sip of the juice while I waited for his answer.
Mason shrugged.
“Some… Listen. I don’t know how much I’m going to be around. Lay low, and I’ll be back when I can.”
He stood up and chucked the empty bottle into the trash, with a resounding crash of glass that told of other empty bottles already in the trash.
“Are we hitting another warehouse?”
I knew that the plan to hit the Cartel where it hurt was going well, and I was happy to help keep the momentum going forward. However, it sounded like I wasn’t being invited to the raid.
“No ‘we’,” Mason grumbled. “You stay here.”
“But we’re a team,” I reminded him. “We work well together.”
His eyes locked on mine.
“Maybe we should change that,” he said. “Things are getting dicey, and I need to have my full attention on the fight. This is my fight, not yours after all.”
I folded my arms in front of my chest.
“How chivalrous of you,” I observed sarcastically.
Mason slammed his hand on the table, causing me to jump.
“It’s not up for debate,” he said firmly.
I nodded numbly. He was worried. I could see that. I had grown accustomed to him. And, although he liked to hide behind his bravado, the real Mason shone through to me. He was scared. I’d never known him to show so much fear, and it shook me.
“I don’t want you getting hurt,” he said, “and it’s inevitable if you keep acting like you’re one of us instead of…” He shook his head abruptly. “Stay here.”
Again I just nodded. Anger rose in me at he thought I wasn’t one of them, but I held it in check. He was worried. As he turned to leave, I whispered:
“Be careful.”
He nodded and caught my eye for just a moment. Then he was out the door.
I locked the door behind him.
***
Mason’s words rang true. I saw less and less of him, until one night he never came home. I sat up petrified.
A knock at the door brought a surge of hope, But when I answered it was Diesel.
“Hey there,” Diesel said as he stepped inside. “Sorry to drop in like this, but Mason sent me round to let you know he won’t be in.”
I felt relief that he was okay, but disappointment that I wouldn’t be seeing him. I’d gotten used to having him there. He made me feel like everything was okay, even when I was sure it wasn’t.
“Oh,” I said softly. “Can I get you a soda or something?”
Diesel shook his head.
“Gotta get back to the boys.”
“Is Mason with the boys then?”
Diesel laughed.
“Nah. He’s at the brothel with Khloe. Boss gets all the best jobs.” Diesel shrugged. “Listen, I have to go or the boys will mutiny.”
“Yeah, sure,” I nodded and numbly followed Diesel to the door.
After Diesel had gone, I stood behind the door, lost in thought, for goodness knows how long.
Mason was with Khloe. They had broken ties, from what I had heard. Perhaps he was trying to patch things up? My mind wandered to all the ways he could ‘patch things up’ with a woman like Khloe.
I frowned as my memory went unbidden to the time I found my fiancé with my sister. Old fears and insecurities reared their heads. I tried to squash them down. Mason had been so concerned about me that he had made me stay here where I was safe. That meant something. Or had he merely wanted me out of his way? I had reacted badly to the way the girls were being treated, and how some of them had ended up in that situation in the first place. Mason was no saint, and he might not want to show me that side of himself any more than he had to.
I knew I was getting nowhere fast with all those contradictory thoughts flying around in my head. I sank down onto the one ragged couch the small safehouse offered. The old leather creaked under my weight.
I sighed.
What was I going to do?