My finger tightens.
Mason must notice the moment I go dark, his eyes widening right as I cock the gun. He dives out of the way just as I squeeze the trigger, narrowly missing him as the bullet embeds into the drywall. I catch his shadow racing down the hall and take off after him.
This house is huge, and Mason has the advantage of knowing the layout, managing to dodge me at every turn. I skid into the formal dining room and fire off another shot, a glass vase exploding next to Mason as he hurries to get away from me.
“What the fuck, man? I haven’t done anything!” he screams as I continue to chase him.
What a pathetic piece of shit.
Rounding the corner Mason just disappeared around, I’m met with a golf club to the gut. The impact hurts just enough to make me gag, but it wasn’t the forceful type swing he delivered when he jumped me. The gun goes off again, this time from reflex.Mason hisses and darts out a set of French doors, right into the monsoon. I’m still a little winded from being hit, so by the time I get outside, he’s gone—like a ghost in the night.
I walk back inside and take a moment to compose myself and catch my breath. A dizzy spell hits, so I lean against the wall and screw my eyes shut. My lack of sleep and adrenaline drop are catching up to me.
My phone rings, and I jump. Hudson’s name flashes on the screen, my heart racing.
There is no way I’m telling him what just happened.
By the third ring, I’ve leveled myself out enough to answer.
“Hey, baby. I was just thinking about you,” I say in the most lighthearted tone I can muster.
“Hey, what time are you coming over? I just woke up.” He yawns through the words, and I can imagine his sleep-rumpled hair and pillow marks on his handsome face. It helps to soothe the rage that is still simmering beneath the surface.
“I’m leaving now. Want me to grab some breakfast on my way?” I turn to leave the office I’ve been standing in when I notice a few drops of red on the floor.
Blood.
My stomach drops.
I hit him.
I actually hit him.
Good riddance, fucker.
My conscience is screaming at me, and I’m suddenly torn.
Should I call the police? What if I hit something vital?
What ifhecalls the police?
I could go to jail…
“Cull? Babe, you still there?” Hudson’s voice cuts through my moment of panic, all anger dissipating at a rapid pace. I haul ass out of Mason’s house and don’t answer until I’m locked back inside my truck.
“Yeah, I-I’m here.”
“You alright? You sound out of breath.”
I bring my hand up to my chest, the gun smacking my sternum. I drop it like it’s a snake, suddenly terrified of the weapon I was stupid enough to use.
A crushing pressure closes and my throat, turning every breath into a struggle.
Panic has my hand flying to my neck, tears burning behind my eyes.
I feel like I’m dying.
My mouth opens to answer Hud, but nothing comes out.
