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“Oh, my God.” I slapped my hands over my mouth to muffle my shock.
She knew.
How in God’s name did she know?
“Who?” Mason asked, sounding clueless.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. This wasn’t happening. He wasn’t finding out the truth from her.
“Oh, Mason.” Mrs. Garrison tsked, sounding wickedly delighted. “Didn’t she ever tell you her real name? That concerns me. It doesn’t sound as if there’s enough trust and honesty in your sweet little monogamous relationship if the girl hasn’t even told you she legally changed her name to Reese Alison Randall just a few short months ago. I mean, not that I blame her. If my ex-boyfriend tried to kill me and promised he’d finish the job the next time he saw me, well, I’d probably run halfway across the country and change my name too.”
“No,” Mason said, his voice trembling with uncertainty.
Tears filled my lashes. I wiped at them desperately, my heart breaking because he was learning the truth like this. I was supposed to be the one to tell him.
“You think I’m making this up?” His pimp laughed. “He cut her. With a knife. It was actually life threatening; she was in the hospital for over a week. I’m sure you’ve seen the scar. It’s somewhere on her neck, I believe.”
Mason’s thick silence killed me. A second later, he croaked, “Oh, God. What happened?”
Mrs. Garrison made a sympathetic sound. “Your girl has quite the taste in boys, let me tell you. It was nasty. Nasty business indeed. I guess they were high school sweethearts, and all was well with that until he started to get a little too controlling for her taste. The first time she tried to break up with him, her sophomore year, he dislocated her jaw. The second time, during her senior year, he broke her arm…after pushing her down a flight of stairs.”
More tears trickled down my cheeks. But how in God’s name did this woman know so much about me? Where had she gotten her information?
“That’s when she finally decided enough was enough. But he still refused to take no for an answer. He stalked her and harassed her for months after she dumped him until he broke into her parents’ house to kill her. And he nearly succeeded.”
“Jesus,” Mason rasped.
“Miss Teresa missed her high school graduation because she was in the hospital. And her naughty boyfriend got out on bail almost immediately. So she skipped town with a new name. And since the case against him was dropped, Mr. Jeremy Walden has been completely pardoned. Ergo, he started looking for her. Her parents’ home was broken into last week. I’ll give you three guesses who I think did it.”
Mason’s voice wavered as he asked, “Did he find anything?”
The landlady hummed. “It’s hard to say, though I will tell you, that boy will do anything, anything, to get his Reese’s Pieces back.”
The name Jeremy had always called me made me gag. I clutched my stomach and closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe through my mouth until the nausea subsided.
“Just think, Mason. If he almost killed her when he was in love with her and wanted to rekindle their relationship, just think what he’ll do this time, now that he wants revenge. Wouldn’t it be awful—simply horrible—if someone accidently leaked her whereabouts?”
I swayed and would’ve gone down if I hadn’t clutched the gate latch for support.
“You wouldn’t,” Mason warned.
“Of course I wouldn’t, sweetheart.” Mrs. Garrison’s insulted voice sounded fake.
I dug my nails into the metal handle, wanting to reach out and physically hurt her.
“I would never do anything to upset you. Not when you’re going to give me what I want.” Her tone changed from cajoling to severe in an instant. “Right?”
“No!” I cried out, shoving my way into her backyard.
“Reese?” Mason spun around and caught my elbow. Pulling me close, he wrapped his arms around me tight. “Christ. What’re you doing here?”
I clung to him, my tears soaking his shirt. “You said yourself. My curiosity has no filter. I had to know if you were really going to go to her.”
“Damn it,” he muttered even as his hands turned gentle and he held me against him, petting my hair. “How much did you hear?”
“All of it. And you can’t sleep with her. You told her no. That should be enough. She’s blackmailing you. What she’s doing is…it’s demented. It’s a violation of you in the most personal, private, vile way imaginable. I refuse to just stand here and let you fall for this, especially because of me.”
He didn’t answer, simply held me close as I trembled and sobbed against him. When he cupped my face and drew far enough away to look into my eyes, a bad feeling crept up my spine.
