Page 121 of Pucked Around and Found Out

He's moving carefully, favoring his side where he's still bruised from the interrogation.

“What the fuck?” I hiss, climbing off the bed. “How did you get out?”

“The guards are focused on the hallway, not the room,” he says quickly, keeping his voice low. “I picked the lock on the window. Climbed along the exterior.”

He steps closer, and I see the desperation in his eyes.

“We need to talk. Now. Before anyone realizes I'm gone.”

“I'm calling Carnage⁠—”

“No!” He grabs my wrist, not hard, but urgent. “Please, Tor. Just listen to me for two minutes. That's all I'm asking.”

I yank my arm free but don't scream.

Don't alert the others.

Something in his expression stops me.

“Two minutes,” I say. “Then I'm calling everyone up here.”

“Xaden's in trouble,” he says immediately, and my blood runs cold. “Fiona took him. Federal custody. She's keeping him locked up so he can't interfere tonight.”

My heart stops. “What? How do you⁠—”

“I lifted a phone off one of the guards,” Masen interrupts. “I have people loyal to me who feed me information. I just got word thirty minutes ago. His men don't know where he is yet, but I do.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I demand.

“Because I need your help,” he says, and there's genuine fear in his voice. “I have information about where Fiona's holding him, but it's at the mansion. Hidden in Dad's safe. Documents, locations, everything we need to get him out.”

“Then tell Carnage. Tell everyone downstairs⁠—”

“They won't believe me,” Masen cuts me off. “They'll think it's a trap. They'll waste time debating while Xaden—” His voice breaks. “Tor, I know I fucked up. I know I don't deserve your trust. But Xaden shouldn't pay for my mistakes. Please. Let me try to fix this.”

I want to not believe him.

But the fear in his eyes...

“What do you need me to do?” I ask slowly.

“Come home with me," he says. “Now, before the briefing. The place is empty—no one arrives for hours. I'll show you where the documents are. You bring them back here, give them to Carnage, and they can extract Xaden before Fiona moves him.”

“Why can't you just tell me where they are?”

“Because they're in Dad's safe,” Masen says. “Behind the painting in his study. The combination is biometric—thumbprint and retinal scan. Dad's son. It only recognizes me.”

He holds up his hand.

It makes sense.

Horrible, dangerous sense.

“If this is a trap—” I start.

“It's not,” Masen insists. “I'm trying to save him, Tor. I know you love him. And he—he deserves better than being locked in a cage because of me. Because of our family.”

His voice cracks.