Page 84 of Fixed Asset

I waited a few moments for him to say something.

When he remained silent, I went on, “Call me if you get anything about the location of the auction.”

“I will.”

I disconnected the call, turned to get back to the team, and found Mason leaning against the wall, listening to my conversation.

Warfighter Mason was in the house. His stare was blank, mask fully in place, a thousand-yard stare that gave away nothing. This state, absolutely devoid of any emotion, was different from the other times he’d slipped into this persona.

Dead man walking.

That’s what he looked like—dead in the eyes.

I lifted a brow, inviting him to speak first.

“What did he want you to lie to us about?” Mason asked.

Tom hadn’t asked me to lie. He’d asked me to keep a secret, but I figured that to Mason, they’d be one and the same. So I answered.

“Calista’s grandfather made a deal with the Irish to clean their money. When her dad took over the laundering, he called the CIA. They turned him, and he became Tom’s informant. Her dad warned Tom he was walking into an ambush and saved his life.”

Mason was silent.

“Did I pass?”

“What?”

God, now the man was going to play dumb.

“Don’t,” I hissed. “Be honest about it. You heard what I said to Tom. You knew he wanted me to keep something from you. You heard me tell him I wouldn’t. You asked what that was. I told you. So, did I pass?”

“You’re asking me if you passed, not if I trust you.”

“We’ve already established this. I know you don’t trust me, and that’s okay. I get it. You trust me not to let you get shot. I trust you won’t tell someone to knife me to death. So we’re good.”

Mason’s mask bled away.

God, who hurt this man?

I understood being private. I understood holding your cards close to your vest. I knew what it meant to turn battle time on and, when it was over, turn it back off. But I had never seen someone break so hard, so fast, that the mask slipped on and off like his did.

“I promise I’ll step in front of a knife for you.”

I shook my head. “Great.”

“I . . .” Mason trailed off. “It takes me a while. Especially with women.” He paused again. “I’ve known Mia most of my adult life and trust her, but . . . I don’t. I love her more than anyone, including Pete. She’s not my blood, but she’s my sister, and I still can’t allow myself to get too close. So . . .”

So there was no chance he’d ever trust me.

That was sad. I didn’t like it. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends.

“You don’t need to spill your deepest, darkest secrets for me to be your friend.”

Relief and pain and panic melted together.

It was time to change the subject.

“We need to call Shep. I think Tom’s in love with the president’s wife. Or maybe not in love, but there is an emotional connection.”