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The Jar would definitely not be opening anytime soon.
Mason glared at me as I walked over to him. I smiled, pulling out the chair across the table. I didn’t beat around the bush. If he knew something, or if he knew how to get to her, then I was going to use that as leverage.
Use them against each other.
“Someone’s setting you up, aren’t they?”
He grit his teeth and bared them at me. It was easy to forget with his good looks and whiskey warm voice, but Mason was an Untouchable. He used to ride with the wildest of them.
“It’s because of her, isn’t it?”
“What the fuck have you done with her, DeWitt? If you touch her-“
I smiled at him and popped a stick of gum into my mouth. Let him think I’d touched her. I sure as hell wanted to.
“She’s safe. You on the other hand…”
He spat on the ground. I couldn’t say I blamed him for being pissed. All the signs pointed to another Untouchable, or Hell Raiser, being behind the crimes.
But circumstantially… it was not looking good for old Mase.
I paused, realizing I’d picked up Casey’s nickname for the biker. Who wasn’t all that much older than me.
Jesus, maybe I was a dirty old man. I’d thought about pocketing those panties after all… she had a couple of pairs.
I decided I would be happy to buy her some more. Lots of pairs of fresh little underwear. Enough that she wouldn’t notice if one went missing.
“We need to talk.” I leaned back and shook my head. “She saw something.”
“She tell you that?”
“What do you think?”
He smirked for a minute, then the smile fell.
“Fuck.”
I nodded.
“Yeah, fuck.”
We sat there in silence for a few minutes.
“I’m trying to keep her safe. To do that, I need to keep you safe.”
I tilted my head.
“Oh and the pets. Cheeto and- well whatever other ones.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“She’ll never squeal. It’s the only reason she’s alive.”
“I know she won’t.” I smiled. “But you will.”
“What the fuck are you up to, DeWitt?”
“Please, call me Connor. We’re about to get real friendly.”
He groaned and leaned back in his chair.
“You’re going to get us all killed man.”
“I’m trying not to. No one knows where she is. If you talk for her, maybe we can leave her out of it altogether.”
He stared at me.
“You touch her, Connor? I know you want to.”
I raised a brow and nodded once. What was the point in lying about that? I wanted to touch her. Jesus Christ, did I ever.
“If you hurt her, I will fucking cut your nuts off.”
I made a tsking sound.
“Threatening a federal officer is never a good idea.” I popped another stick of gum in my mouth. “Anyway, there are so many reasons to ‘touch’ a person in custody. Searching them. Restraining them. Holding them down.”
I was pretty sure I saw actual steam come out of Mason’s ears. So what if what I was proposing was stretching the rules? It would keep Casey out of it and get the bad guys. That was good enough to me.
“If you fuck her- if you hurt her-“
“Hey now!” I smiled at him as he struggled to get out of his chair. “I never kiss and tell.”
Then I walked away to let him stew.
Cassandra
I stared at the ceiling, clicking through channels without even looking. It had been a few hours since Connor left me here, chained up like a dog. I’d already eaten all my pancakes and a sandwich.
Jesus, I was bored.
I couldn’t stop worrying about Mase either. If he got killed because of me… I’d never forgive myself. If I talked they would kill him. But they might do it anyway, just to be on the safe side.
Connor kept telling me he would keep us both safe, but how could he be sure?
I sat up abruptly. Maybe he’d missed something. Maybe I could still get away… get to Mase.
Do something.
I started my search in the kitchen. As predicted, he’d taken everything sharp or pokey. Even the forks. Plenty of spoons though, in case I needed a weapon.
I pocketed one. A girl could do a lot of damage with a spoon.
I kept searching.
Jesus, the guy had a lot of weird stuff. Mallets for tenderizing. Old, milky white glass casserole pans. Jelly molds.
I looked around, realizing a lot of this stuff probably wasn’t his. It was retro stuff, like you saw Betty Draper using on Mad Men. Maybe it had all been here when he moved in.
Either that, or he’d had a wife at some point. I shook my head. Connor didn’t read that way to me.
There was something too… lone wolf about him.
I riffled around in the top cabinets next. I opened the one over the fridge and smiled.
Bingo.
Connor had quite a collection of fancy looking booze. I pulled down a bottle of fine tequila. Well, if nothing else, I could get drunk.
