Page 6 of Hidden Obsession

Chapter Three

For the last hour,Cleo had stared at the ceiling detailing the pale off-white color of Mason’s guest room, but she still wasn’t able to close her eyes and relax. Every sound made her tense, wondering where it came from or what it was. It was so unlike her it made her angry with herself. Her brain kept reverting to her attacker, and even though she would rather forget the episode, Cleo forced herself to go over it again and again, to try and see where she’d made the wrong move or what more she could have done to save herself.

Her mind whirled, and there was no stopping it. Accepting she needed help wasn’t easy for her. Cleo was independent, she took care of herself and others—they didn’t take care of her. Realizing that she would have to let someone in wasn’t easy.

Curling onto her side, Cleo fixated on the pale, blue striped curtains for a while. Would the attacker be able to climb to the window? Unable to remember how high Mason’s apartment was, she pushed the cover aside and went to check. She heaved a sigh of relief as she looked out the window. Unless he was Spider-Man, there was no way he could access her room. It calmed her a bit, but she was the kind of woman who liked to be prepared. She looked around to see if there was anything she could use to defend herself, just in case.

Switching the light on, she analyzed her surroundings. The room was a lot like Mason, tidy with everything clean and in its place. She was relieved to see the baseball bat in the corner of the nearly empty closet. For lack of anything else, it would do.

Turning off the lights, she headed back to bed with her new protector clutched in her hand. She stilled as she heard a muffled banging sound that seemed to resonate from the opposite side of the bedroom door.

Her heart picked up a beat, and she forced herself to remain calm. She knew she wouldn’t settle until she had investigated the noise so she silently opened the door and slipped into the hall. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet as she padded silently down the hall. She checked on Mason, opening his door as quietly as she could. All she saw was the vast expanse of his muscled back on his king-sized bed. He was still asleep and hadn’t heard the noise. Maybe it was nothing, but she wanted to check before alerting him.

Moving through the dark apartment without knocking anything over wasn’t easy, especially since she hadn’t taken notice of the layout when she’d arrived. Thankfully enough light came from the kitchen window to illuminate the space so she could see the table and chairs on her right near the kitchen counter, and the living room on the left. There too, the light came through the large windows, and she could pretty much see nobody was there.

The loud banging happened again. It sounded as if it was coming from the front door. Grabbing the baseball bat with two hands, ready to swing at the person on the other side, she approached the entrance and checked the peephole. The hallway seemed empty.

Shaking her head, Cleo had almost convinced herself she’d imagined it and was heading back to her room when the banging sounded again. It was so close, she jumped back and knocked over a chair but didn’t care. If some madman was trying to play mind games with her, she was ready for him this time.

When the light came on, she gasped and whirled, ready to strike. She halted her movement when she saw Mason in pajama pants, his gun in his hand, looking at her with a deep frown.

“Cleo. What’s going on? What’s with the bat? Is someone at the door?”

Before she could speak, Mason passed her and tapped a few keys on a pad near his front door before opening it and checking the hallway. She watched his shoulders relax when no one was there. Mason closed the door and reactivated the alarm before taking a quick look in the living room and finally turned his attention to her. Seeing him half-naked, all muscles and sinew that could only be guessed at under his tailored suit, almost derailed her thoughts. It was the angry red scar from the knife wound that had nearly killed him that stopped her wayward thoughts.

Mason put the gun on the table and gently removed the baseball bat from her tight grasp before putting his hands on her shoulders. “Cleo, what happened? Are you all right? Talk to me.”

At that moment, she felt like the biggest fool. “I couldn’t sleep, and then I heard a loud banging coming from the door. Twice. So I went to check.”

And at that precise moment, the noise sounded again. Cleo jumped, but Mason didn’t seem surprised and sighed. “The sound isn’t coming from the front door. It’s George one floor up. He does shift work and has a shower when he comes home. The pipes are old, and they make that awful racket every time he turns the water on or off. The landlord won’t do anything about it, so I’ve learned to live with it. That’s why it didn’t wake me, but the chair did when it fell.”

Cleo rubbed her face, feeling defeated. “I’m going crazy. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not. Why didn’t you wake me when you heard it?”

She shrugged. “You were fast asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you if it turned out to be nothing. And if the attacker was at the door, I planned to smash his head in with the bat.”

Mason seemed to debate her words a moment before he schooled his features and nodded. “Thanks for trying to protect me, even if I’m the one that’s supposed to be protecting you at the moment.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not. I’m touched. But it’s one in the morning, and we both need sleep if we want to catch this asshole tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “Go back to bed. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight. My mind won’t settle.”

Mason nodded, but instead of heading back to his room alone, he took her hand and pulled her with him.

At first she thought he would lead her back to her room, but instead, he went to his. Cleo’s heart started to beat faster, but not for the same reason as before. Pulling back the covers, he told her to hop into bed.

“You want me to sleep in your bed? Where will you sleep?”

Was there a twinkle in his eyes, or was she imagining things again?

“I’m sleeping there too. Keeping you close is the only way to make sure you’re safe and not about to smash my head in with a bat.”

Part of her, the sensible part, wanted to turn around and go back to the guest room. Another part of her, the naughty, rebellious part, wanted to slide under the covers with him.

And she did exactly that. It seemed wild and the crazy was the theme of the night.