Chapter 15
Mason came through the door with an armload of groceries, and set them on the kitchen counter.
“I was starting to get worried about you,” Jess said. She began to place items into the fridge. “I didn’t think it was gonna take so long for pick-up. Did they not have the order ready when you got there?”
“I had to run some other errands before I stopped there,” Mason explained without looking at her.
“Oh.” It was on the tip of her tongue, to ask where he had gone, but it was really none of her damned business. And yet—that didn’t seem to stop her mind from working overtime to piece together a narrative.
And, of course, she immediately thought the worst.
Had he regretted what happened last night? He seemed fine when they woke up this morning. Even better after they had made love again before breakfast. She ran through their conversation when they had returned from the bar. Was there something there she missed? Or misunderstood?
He had asked if she was in a relationship…
A chill swamped her. Was he in a relationship? Was that where he went this morning?
The memory of him drifting to sleep last night hit her. He rolled over and wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to his body. Soft snores had made her chuckle. Then he murmured, “I love you, Jess.”
She stilled and waited for him to say something more, but his snores only grew louder.
Had he meant it?
Mason’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and then hit the answer button. “Cookie, thanks for calling me back. I’m going to put you on speakerphone.”
“I got your message,” a deep male voice said. Jess attempted to stifle a laugh that threatened to burst from her chest. She hadn’t expected a guy, much less a very deep, husky-voiced guy, would be called Cookie. “I spoke to Fiona—she said she never saw anyone other than her captors, and they were Mexican. None of them spoke English or Russian.”
“So, no white guys at all?” Mason asked.
“Nope.”
“Okay—thanks, man. And tell Fiona I’m sorry for dredging up the past. I hope I didn’t upset her.”
“No problem, Tink. If I didn’t think she could handle it, I wouldn’t have brought it up to her. She’s been doing really well with counseling, and it doesn’t appear to affect her like it used to. Sorry we couldn’t be more help—hope you find the guy you’re looking for.”
Mason wrapped up the phone call, and placed his cell phone on the counter.
“What did he mean, it doesn’t affect her like it used to?” Jess asked.
“Fiona suffers from PTSD—she was kidnapped by a Mexican sex-slave ring and held for something like four months in the middle of the jungle before Cookie and his team were able to rescue her. I heard from some buddies that at first she couldn’t distinguish between present reality and the past, and would think her captors had found her and were going to kidnap her again. Luckily, no one was hurt—but it was pretty touch and go there for a bit, whether she would ever get to some state of normalcy in her life. I know Cookie had a lot to do with her recovery. He was there for her the entire time.”
“Wow. That’s…unbelievable. I can’t even imagine having to go through that.”
Mason stiffened, but didn’t say anything. If things went as she had proposed, she might very well be captured by a group of Russian terrorists. Of course, she was probably going to be luckier than Fiona. Jess wouldn’t have to endure years of being passed around from one man to the other, addicted to drugs, and being raped on a daily basis. The men after her only wanted to torture and kill her.
At least, as far as she knew.
Placing the remainder of the groceries in the cabinet, she folded up the bags, and set them in a formerly empty bottom drawer. So far, Mason either hadn’t realized all the changes she had made in his kitchen, or didn’t care.
“He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room. “I have something for you.”
“For me?” She sat on the couch, her heart galloped in her chest.
“So—I don’t want to pressure you or anything—and I know it’s too soon to think about what will happen when you no longer need my protection—but I wanted you to have something. We can see how things go, but even if things don’t go as I hope they will, I wanted you to have something to remember me by.”
He pulled out a black velvet box that filled his entire hand and lifted the lid. Inside was a brushed nickel dog tag pendant with a heart cut out of the center. She ran her fingers over the little ridges, and traced the edges of the heart.
“I wanted to have it engraved, but didn’t want there to be any identifying marks on it.”
Jess finished the rest of his sentence in her head… in case you’re captured.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“I…love it.” She lifted the necklace from its velvety bed and held it out to him. “Can you help me put it on?”
She lifted her hair, and Mason clasped the chain. The dog tag rested on her chest bone over her heart. The gift was so…Mason. Simple in content, but enormous in gesture. Jess was struggling to figure out what exactly it meant. Maybe it didn’t matter that the meaning was unclear. Perhaps all that mattered was the way it made her feel. As if Mason was always with her. Over her heart. In it. Owning it. She leaned into him, and kissed him. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re very welcome.” He kissed her again, softly, his fingers sliding through her hair, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. It was sweet, yet sensual, and had every single cell in Jess’s body swooning.
Ringing. The cell phone again. Mason darted into the kitchen.
“Hey, Riley,” he said, sauntering back into the living room. The muscles in his neck strained, and his smile fell to a deep scowl. “Okay. See you in the morning.”
He pocketed the cell phone, and looked up at Jess. “We have to be at the office in the morning. Apparently, there were instructions on the thumb drive found at your mother’s house. Riley and Lance have come up with a plan.”