My thoughts tangle. If not Mason… then who?
Feeling brave, I square my shoulders and step up to Mason. “Have you been stalking me?”
His brow furrows, his face confused. “No man. I keep to myself. I always respected you when we were in school together, and that hasn’t changed. My own life is a shitshow, and I wouldn’t want anyone else to feel this kind of pain.”
I search his eyes for a crack, a tell—anything. All I see is exhaustion. Grief.
I don’t know what to think.
Relaxing a little, I step closer. Mason watches me warily, but doesn’t move. “Why did you have to post bail if you didn’t kill Ella or aren’t my stalker?”
He scoffs. “Because that detective has been looking for a reason to put me behind bars. He hated my father, and by extension, me.” He holds his arms out wide, the grocery bag sliding down his frail arm. “I’m his scapegoat.”
My head spins as I study him, searching for the lie. “Are you telling me the truth?”
“Why would I lie? I have no reason to stalk you, Hudson.”
I stare at him for a few beats before nodding.
“Any idea who it could be?” I ask.
“Sorry, no. Like I said, I keep to myself.” He shrugs and shoves his hands back into his pockets.
“Are you okay?” The question comes from left field, but it feels like maybe Mason needs someone to care.
His smile is broken, shadows haunting his features. “Are any of us ever truly okay?”
Damn. That hits deeper than I expect. “I’ve had my fair share of struggles, so I get it.”
He nods and steps around me to leave, but not before placing a hand on my shoulder. “I heard about what happened. About the river…”
I lift my chin, ready to defend myself. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Glad to see you failed at something.”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Yeah, me too.”
He walks backward, adding one last thing. “Tell your boy his aim sucks.” He taps his bicep. “If he’s going to keep you safe, he needs to learn how to keep a steady hand.” Then he turns and disappears around the street corner.
I stare after him, confused—then it clicks.
“So that’s what Cull has been hiding from me,” I murmur to myself.
It makes sense. What else would have triggered his panic attack that day he went to Mason’s house? No wonder Cullen was green at the police station the other day when the detective mentioned Mason’s arm wound.
I have so much I need to talk to him about, but it’ll have to wait. I’m not going to stress him out before his appointment, but it’ll have to be a conversation sooner rather than later.
Because if Mason isn’t my stalker, that means someone is still watching me, and we’re back to square one.
Chapter twenty-six
Cullen
Therapy sucks.
But even I have to admit that I feel a little better after two sessions with Maria. Today is Hud and my first joint session, and I’m oddly not nervous.
Maybe it’s because I’ve finally realized how much this helps.
