Chapter Seven
“Hannah? Are you in there?”
Hannah froze midstep. Behind her on the staircase, Mason wrapped his arm around her waist to keep from knocking her down.
“Do you know him?” he whispered in her ear, his wet hair cold against her temple.
She nodded, not wanting to speak. Wanting nothing more than to sink into the floor right now.
“Who?” Mason asked without moving.
“It’s my brother-in-law. Maybe he’ll go away.” She swallowed hard, listening for retreating footsteps. Instead, she jumped when she heard her phone ringing inside her apartment.
“It must be important,” Mason whispered.
“He’s going to know what we were doing.” She hated the whining sound in her voice.
“We’re adults, Hannah.” She heard his jaw grinding as he whispered in her ear. “But I’ll go back upstairs if you want.”
That might spare her a few lectures since Troy knew she hadn’t been seeing anyone. She turned and ran her hands up the fire department sweatshirt he’d put on after the most athletic shower of her life.
“It’s sweet of you to offer, but it still wouldn’t explain my wet hair and bathrobe.”
“Or lack of panties,” he whispered naughtily in her ear.
She kissed him gently, savoring the different feel of his upper lip since he shaved. “Fast-forward,” she whispered to herself as she turned, took Mason’s hand, and made her way to her own front door. She’d already slept with him, so maybe it wasn’t too early to start introducing him to the family.
“Is there a problem, Troy?” Hannah asked, fishing her keys from the pocket of her robe.
Troy stared openmouthed at them. Quickly, Hannah opened the door and ushered both men inside. She’d given her neighbors enough to talk about already.
Closing the door behind her, she made introductions. “Troy, I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?”
“Molly’s worried about you. You haven’t returned her calls. She wanted to come herself, but I told her I’d check in.”
It had only been three days since she’d talked to Molly. She barely knew what was going on with Mason, and she didn’t care to explain it to anyone else.
“Molly’s a worrier. I’m fine.” Hannah wished Troy would stop looking at Mason as if he’d done something wrong. Troy was four years younger than her. She didn’t need him pulling the protective-older-brother act.
“Why is…? Where were…?” Troy stuttered, his hands flying about.
“I live upstairs,” Mason stated, as if it would answer anything.
Apparently, it did, because Troy started to nod furiously. “Hannah, can I talk to you for a second, privately?”
“No.” Hannah walked to the door and opened it. No way was she giving Troy an opportunity to lecture her. “Tell Molly I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Troy narrowed his eyes as he shuffled toward the door, kicking a red envelope straight into Hannah’s foot.
She picked it up, her mouth going dry as she realized it wasn’t addressed.
Time slowed as Mason crossed the room, removed it from her hand, and opened it to view a picture of red velvet bra and panty set, trimmed in white fur like Mrs. Claus gone bad. Mason shoved the card back in the envelope with a curse.
“You okay?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her.
Hannah squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “It could be nothing, Mason.” Probably a neighbor annoyed by all the noise they made last night.
“I still don’t like it,” he said as she shrugged him off.
“What?” Troy demanded from the doorway.
“A kinky neighbor has slipped cards under my door a couple of times,” she said, watching Troy’s eyes focus on Mason. “Not him,” she said, dismissing the notion with a wave of her hand.
“Hannah, I need to talk to you alone.” Troy reached for her arm.
“Don’t touch her,” Mason said with an edge to his voice she hadn’t heard before.
She shook off Troy’s grasp and stepped between the men. “I need to get ready for work.”
“When did you get the other cards?” Troy asked, unmoved.
“One showed up on Wednesday sometime. It’s probably nothing.”
“Wasn’t Wednesday the night you went out with him?” Troy spouted, his face reddening.
“Troy, I’m not in the mood.” She wanted the last ten minutes to be erased from her life forever.
“Hannah, what are you thinking?” Troy said shaking his head. “Use your brain. You can’t be this stupid again.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Mason said, stepping out from behind her. “You want to talk to her, that’s one thing, but you don’t insult her in her own home. I don’t care if you are family.”
She threw her hands up in the air and stepped out from between the two men towering over her. “You two feel free to take this outside. I’m going to go get dressed.”
She tried to listen as she went through the motions of getting ready for work. She didn’t hear anything breaking. But she didn’t hear the yelling she’d expected, either.
Her pinstriped black suit and heels made her feel much more authoritative and in control than she’d been barefoot and naked beneath her bathrobe. She knew the cards were nothing, but she’d call the building manager anyway and see if he had any ideas. And maybe it would give Mason an incentive to start sleeping over.
As she emerged from the hallway, she found Troy alone in the apartment. “Where’s Mason?” she asked, not bothering to hide her hurt that he’d leave without saying goodbye.
“Why are you so sure it’s not him?” Troy asked from his perch on the sofa. “He could be trying to scare you so he could play the hero.”
That one was easy. “Each time a card has shown up, he’s been with me.”
“Maybe he’s having someone else deliver them.”
She saw where this train of thought led and cut him off. “Troy, this is not your problem. Hasn’t your annoying buddy Derek vouched for his brother?”
“If it isn’t him… When did you last hear from Marty?”
“What? Why?” Hannah asked, her stomach sinking.
“He was furious when his wife found out what he’d been up to. Then again, Mason mentioned some creep from work was eyeing you. Do you think it’s him?”
“Where is Mason?” she asked again, not wanting to create a list of suspects for a crime that consisted of spending too much time at Hallmark.
As if on cue, Mason appeared in the open doorway with a box. He began pressing some kind of tape to her doorframe.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he continued to play with her doorway as if she’d given him permission.
“Making sure that little chicken shit doesn’t slide anything under the door anymore.” Mason replied without looking at her, so her annoyed expression never registered.
“With what?” Troy asked, crossing to the doorway. The two men were oblivious to her presence, focused on solving the problem, not on her.
“I’m fireproofing it.” Mason’s eyes never moved from his task. “When the door is closed it will seal so tight an envelope won’t fit through.”
I do not have time for this, whatever it is. “I’ll leave you two to bond. Lock up when you leave. You never know who might wander in without being invited.”
…
“I always thought you were crazy, Dad,” Mason said to the long, jean-clad legs sticking out from beneath the black GTO. The car had been in the garage for at least fifteen years, and he’d never even heard the engine run.
“You all have at one point,” Mac McNally said, sliding out from beneath the car. His hands and shirt were clean, as if he’d been lying beneath the car for fun. “Why am I crazy today?”
“I don’t think you are. I think you must be a genius.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, kid. You still have to help me move the table out before you leave. Grab me a beer will you?” Mac got up slowly and grabbed a rag and canister of wax off his workbench.
Mason carefully maneuvered the cans from the too-full fridge. With just over a week until Thanksgiving, the man-fridge in the McNally garage had been taken over for the festivities. It gave him a little pang of regret that he’d miss so much of it.
He handed the can to his father and popped open his own. “I need some advice.”
“From me? You never listen to me. This has got to be good.” Mac chuckled. “I’d call your mom in, but she’s taken Rianna to the mall for portraits again.”
“No, for this I actually need you. How did you get Mom to marry you after just three days without freaking her out?” He took a long slow drink, shoring up his courage before meeting his father’s gaze.
Mac gave a shrug then leveled his gaze at his middle son. “Your mother doesn’t scare easy. Is this bride of yours Catholic?”
Mason rolled his eyes. “Come on, did Mom ask you that?”
“With a name like McNally, she didn’t have to. What’s this girl’s last name?”
Thank God, Hannah had handed him her mail. “Daniels.”
“No help there. You’ll have to ask her,” Mac said with a nod.
Mason shook his head. “That doesn’t matter to me, Dad.”
“It should.” He punctuated his statement with a long drink.
“Really? When did you last go to Mass?”
“Your mother goes for me,” Mac said, polishing an imaginary spot on the car. “How long have you known this girl?”
“I first met her a couple of weeks ago, but we had a misunderstanding.” Mason didn’t want to go into the particulars. His dad wouldn’t be any happier he’d agreed to Derek’s experiment than Hannah had been. “I found her again last week.”
Mac spun around, leaving the rag on the car. “Is this the girl Derek went out with?”
Derek and his big mouth. “They did not go out, Dad. They met for coffee so we could explain about the misunderstanding.”
“That’s not how Derek told the story. He said they were having coffee, minding his own business, and you waltzed in and kissed the girl all the way out the door.”
Mason had to laugh at Derek’s theatrics. He gave in and filled his father in on the facts of the story, from their first meeting to their first date. “I knew that first time I saw her, Dad, that’s why I couldn’t stand knowing what she thought of me. I always thought you and Mom were crazy to get married so quickly, but now I get it. You just knew.”
“We both knew, Mason,” Mac said with a sympathetic smile. “Something sparked between us. We both felt it. It sounds like your girl isn’t so sure. You could be wrong about this.”
“I’m not.” He shook his head emphatically. He had no doubts, not after last night. “I just don’t want to spook her. Everything is moving a little fast for her, and she hasn’t figured out we’re more than casual yet.”
“Then slow it down. There’s no need to try and end the race if there’s no finish line. If you’re sure, bring her for Thanksgiving.”
Mason nodded. He wasn’t even off until seven thirty on Thanksgiving. By the time he got out here, most of the family would be drunk on tryptophan and champagne and probably having one of their famous hands-free pie-eating contests. Not the best first impression for Hannah.
“There is something else I wanted to ask you about.” Mason handed his father the two cards, explaining they’d been slipped under Hannah’s door. His dad had seen everything in his thirty years on the police force. Maybe he could give some insight into the problem.
Mac handed them back and looked Mason in the eye. “Unsigned cards are pretty benign. She’s probably okay as long as it sticks to cards.” Mac changed his expression. “Could she be doing it?”
“No, why would she do that?” Mason asked with a laugh. The last card hadn’t been there when they’d left, and he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
“Sometimes people invent things for attention, or to be saved.”
“She’s not. Her brother-in-law actually thinks I’m doing it. He was there when we got the card this morning, which is weird. He said he was checking in because her sister was worried, but I’d never just show up at Ryan and Tara’s. I don’t know. Derek’s friends with him, but it was still strange timing.”
“If you wanted to be a detective, you should have joined the force like your brothers.”
He shook his head at the argument he’d been having for the last ten years—the argument his youngest brother, Tyler, was currently embroiled in. So far, only two of the five McNally boys had joined the force. Mac had always planned on a clean sweep. “Hannah thinks it’s a neighbor because you need a code to get into the building.”
“Where you also live, which is why the brother-in-law suspects you.”
“Right, but he got in, and he doesn’t live there. Plus, there’s this guy she works with who is an absolute ass.”
“There’s not a lot you can do with just a couple of cards, Mason. If there are any messages on them, have one of your brothers look into it.”
He couldn’t just sit on his hands and wait for something to happen to her. He’d been looking for this woman his entire life. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that. Even her.
…
Hannah loved her job. From the moment she walked in the door until she turned the key to lock up, she hadn’t obsessed about Mason or Troy or the damn cards. With so much to get done before she spent the next few days leading the motivational seminars, she hadn’t allowed herself a single self-indulgent thought.
She didn’t have time for any now, either. She needed to get on the train, get home, and get some sleep. She had to unlock the same door in just six hours.
She sighed as she fell in step behind a group of women, who also took the train and checked her watch. Seven minutes until the train would arrive, forty-one until she made her station. She should’ve taken Mason up on his offer of a ride home, but she hadn’t wanted to encourage this protective streak he was nurturing. She wasn’t some damsel in distress. She could take care of herself.
She surveyed the parking lot as they made their way across to the park-and-ride terminal. It emptied quickly when her staff made their way home. Driving might save her some time, but taking the train made financial sense. Gas, insurance, and paying to park a car downtown was too expensive to be practical. She’d much rather save her money and get some work done on the train anyway.
The click from her heels echoed in her ears. A chill tightened her shoulders, and she tightened her coat around her. She looked up, checking to make sure all the parking-lot lights were on. It just seemed so dark. She pulled the strap of her bag higher and quickened her pace to keep step with the group. Damn those cards—they were making her paranoid.
“Hannah!”
She heard her name and stopped short, watching the three women in front of her turn first to the voice and then to her. She knew that voice. Their faces watched for her reaction, as they always did.
The store might be closed, but she was still on the clock. She schooled her expression and reached into her coat pocket for her keys, fingering the pepper spray on her key ring. Marty had never tried to hurt her physically before, but he’d also never surprised her in a dark parking lot.
“Go ahead, ladies. I’ll make the train,” she said with a confident smile. She didn’t want them to hear anything he might have to say. She worked hard to keep what little private life she had separate from the gossip mill at work. She’d be fielding enough questions from this little stunt already.
Once the women were out of earshot, she finally turned, noticing Marty leaned against a late model silver Jaguar. “New car?” she asked, trying to sound light and flippant, as if she hadn’t broken out in a cold sweat.
“It’s your fault.” The words slurred, and she noticed the bottle in his hand.
Great, he was drunk. Mason had wanted to take her home, but with only three train stops between the store and home, she hadn’t seen the point. Now, she’d give anything to drive away from this mess.
“She left me because of you.” He raised his hand and pointed a finger at her. Or in her direction. He was obviously seeing double.
“Your girlfriend or your wife?” She couldn’t help herself. He stepped forward, and she realized it wasn’t smart to provoke him given his current state.
“Why did you have to open your slut mouth? You are so stupid, Hannah, so stupid.” He stepped closer, steaming puffs of breath leaving his mouth with every word he slurred her way. The stench of whiskey permeated the air, making her stomach lurch.
“Stay away from me, Marty,” Hannah said, her voice hoarse from the bile burning the back of her throat.
“Or what?” he asked with a sneer. “You’ll scream? You wouldn’t want someone from work to hear you, to know what a whore you are. Wouldn’t want to tarnish your little career.”
She wanted to go, to run, but she didn’t want to turn her back on him, either. Or let him know he scared her. “Should I call you a cab?”
“I’m fine.” He slammed his fist against the car, shattering the bottle he held.
Hannah’s breath caught as she watched the glass splinter apart, thousands of pieces falling in slow motion. She heard each shard clink and ping against the blacktop to lie glistening in the lamplight. She clasped the pepper spray, realizing it wasn’t a match for broken glass. Why didn’t I just keep walking?
He raised the neck of the bottle he still held in his hand, a sinister laugh vibrating in the blackness as the shard of glass glistened with his blood. “See what you made me do? You always made me do crazy things, Hannah.”
He must be really drunk. The slice in his hand didn’t even bother him. She looked around her. She could run. She was remarkably agile in heels; running was an option. But running meant turning her back on a man with a weapon.
“Marty, you come any closer, and I swear I will scream.” With one hand on her pepper spray, she slowly reached the other into her bag, hoping to find her cell phone.
“It’s been a long time, Hannah. I didn’t know you’d be so jealous.” He jerked his head toward her bag. “What are you trying to find in there?”
Jealous? He was more than drunk. “My cell phone. I’m going to call you a cab. You can’t drive with your hand sliced up.”
His laugh sliced through her as he moved closer. She matched his step, backing away. “I bet I know what you’re looking for. Don’t worry. I have condoms in the car. I know you want me, that’s why you ruined things with Lisa.”
No, no, no. This was not happening. “I just gave her the information I wish I’d had.” Finding the phone, she finally let out a breath and unlocked it without taking it from the bag.
“The bitch told her, went right to my house and told her. When I got home, Mary and the kids were gone. She believed Lisa because of that stuff your brother-in-law showed her. They left me because of you. Because you want us to be together.”
She pulled the phone out, continuing to back away with each unsteady step he took forward. “It’s your call, Marty. Stay back, or I call the police instead of a cab.”
His gaze ran over her once, twice, and he licked his lips. He started walking, and her heart stopped. The crunch of tires on pavement startled them both, and he raised his arm to shield his eyes from the headlights blinding him.
She spun and stared at the boxy old Bronco and its driver as he jumped to the ground. “Get in the truck.”
She hadn’t known she could get any more scared. Every muscle in her body already on red alert tensed further as Mason blocked Marty’s path. The relief of escaping from Marty was overridden by her fear for Mason.
“In the truck, Hannah,” he ordered without looking at her.
She walked obediently to the passenger side but didn’t get in. She didn’t take too well to orders, and she wasn’t all together sure just what was happening.
“Time to go now, asshole,” Mason growled. Marty tightened his grip on the broken bottle neck. Her stomach tensed in an all-new terror. Marty’s gaze drifted from Mason to her with a lecherous smile.
“You want me to tell him how you like it?”
Her eyes closed at the sound of falling, cracking, and grunting. Words she didn’t want to try to make out. She opened her eyes and watched as the bottle neck spun across the parking lot. Farther and farther away. She wanted to run right after it. And keep running until her life returned to normal.
She heard the siren before she saw the flashing lights illuminate the parking lot. Mason froze, his knee digging into Marty’s back, his hand contorting the other man’s arm behind him. She said a prayer, grateful she didn’t have to learn exactly what Mason could have done to Marty.
In the distance, Hannah saw her three employees huddled together, watching the event unfold like a bad episode of reality television. They’d seen it all, had probably realized she was in over her head, and called the police.
Two policemen leapt from their squad car, drawing their guns. Hannah squeezed her eyes tight against the image. When did this become my life?
“Mason?” a voice she didn’t recognize asked.
“Hey, Ryan. Your timing sucks.”
…
“His brother was the cop that showed up?” Kate fluffed the chenille blanket covering them on their couch.
Hannah nodded and sipped her extra strength tea, hoping there was enough caffeine in the world to get her through the day. She hadn’t gotten back from the police station until almost two, when Ryan had driven her home.
Since she had to head to work in a few hours, there was no point in trying to sleep. The only bright spot in her nightmare was that Kate had decided to come home after all. It was exactly what Hannah needed to feel safe.
“Did Mason even try to explain why he was there?”
“He wanted to pick me up, but the train is faster. He wanted to prove he could get me home quicker, so he was going to leave when the train did. And he was worried about the cards and wanted to make sure I was all right. He wanted to give me a ride home from the police station and explain, but I just didn’t want to talk about it all anymore.”
Hannah took another long draw of the hot tea, grateful for the burning sensation that numbed at least one part of her body.
“I should be grateful he was there, I know. Because if he hadn’t been…” Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t need caffeine to stay awake. She’d be lucky if she slept all week.
“But it’s annoying he showed up when you told him you would be fine getting home alone,” Kate filled in. “He seems nice. A little jumpy but sweet. And sexy as all get out.”
Hannah’s eyebrows knit together. “You’ve met him?”
Kate nodded. “He must have heard me from upstairs when I came in. He came down to make sure someone hadn’t broken in. I almost forgot. He brought down a bowl of fruit because he knew we didn’t have any food in the house.”
Hannah stared at the ceiling. The fruit was thoughtful and practical. Just like him. Her stomach lurched with a new thought. Is he up there right now?
“He’s cute as can be. If his brother looks like him, you should hook me up.”
Hannah smiled at the idea, the first smile in hours. “The cop brother is married, but he has three more.” It might be fun to watch Kate put Derek in his place.
Hannah laid her head back against the sofa cushions and squeezed her eyes tight. Her mind whirled with activity, trying to make sense of everything.
Mason had showed up in a dark parking lot, and this morning he’d kept her from leaving his apartment. She could’ve felt afraid. Instead, all she could muster up for both incidents was minor annoyance. Everything he’d done should be setting off alarms, but she just wasn’t making the connection. Again. She had no common sense when it came to men.
She felt Kate’s fingers on her hand, and the lump in her throat grew. “I really like him. I know I’m being stupid, but I just can’t help myself. Maybe the ladies at the coffee shop were right. Maybe he is stalking me.”
“Honey, I think it’s much more likely the cards came from Marty. You said you saw him again the same day you got the first card. Mason is a little overprotective. I’ll give you that. But you don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.”
As Kate squeezed her hand, the tears broke free. Kate held her while she wept, releasing the terror she’d felt as Marty had approached. Her instincts had been wrong, again. She’d been so sure he wouldn’t hurt her. There was no logical reason for her to trust in her instincts when it came to Mason. Her history with men all involved her not seeing the men in her life for who and what they were. But there was something about Mason that made her want to try, made her want to believe what she was feeling was true. And that was scary.
Hannah cried until her head ached, releasing the fear and frustration until there wasn’t any more left. She must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew, Kate was nudging her awake. “You’ve got twenty minutes to shower. I’ll drive you in.”