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“I want answers. Now.” I said. “Did you order my kidnapping just so you could get into my pants?” I laughed maniacally at the thought.
“Are you fucking serious?” Now Mason raised his voice. “You think Iletsomeone snatch you up and torture you?Youwere the one who left that apartment.Youmade that decision despite how many times I told you to stay put.Youwere the one that had to meddle in things you weren't supposed to be looking at.Ihave been bailing you out since the day you started.” He was fuming angry. “Ihave been the one saving your ass, time and time again, and you so carelessly throw every second chance away.Ican’t keep protecting you if you don’tletme.”
“Protecting me!” I cut him off. “I wouldn’t have been inanyof these situations… if it were not foryou!”
“No, you’d be in prison!” Mason yelled back before running his hand over his face. “Just...”
“No. No.” I kept the gun pointed at him and I moved towards the door. He made like he was going to move. “No.” I said firmly, and the look in my eye must have convinced him because he stayed put.
I stood in the doorway, with my exit now within my reach. “I want the cliff notes, what do you do? What does Viktor do?”
He shook his head, “Viktor runs the agency, I’m…” He shook his head and scoffed. “I’m your team leader.”
I laughed hysterically. “You’remy team leader…you’rethe one I’ve been messaging for all these years…you’rethe one I messaged that night… un-fucking-believable, Mason.” I backed out towards the door and raised my eyebrows. “Are you the mole? Are you the one selling information? Is that why we were in Iran so you could make a little deal? Are you The Viper? Is that why you went to the gala? To do business with Shah? Was I a little side deal?”
“Jesus Christ, Emma, I’m not–”
And I didn’t wait for him to finish. I turned my back and sprinted down the stairs, gun in hand. I snatched the pepper spray and the keys off the table and bolted towards the garage. I could hear him thundering down the stairs, and terror pulsed through me. I raced into the garage in a panic, and threw myself into the car. I started the engine, and locked the doors. I punched the garage door opener, and when it wouldn’t open fast enough, I peeled out, driving through the lower half of the door, as Mason pounded the back of the car while I drove away.
23
EMMA
Four A.M. the next day…
I cautiously mademy way into the gym, barefoot and wearing just Mason’s giant T-shirt. I tried to discreetly tuck Mason’s gun under the shirt. I didn’t dare leave it in the car in case I needed it.
I’d spent yesterday driving around, thinking, strategizing, trying to figure out where to go, and what to do. I had finally pulled into the gym parking lot after dark, when the gas tank had gotten too low, and I’d spent the night in the car, waiting for the gym to open.
Now I was on the hunt for a shower, shoes, and clothes. I looked around the gym, nothing seemed out of place. Having just opened for the day, the front desk person was hardly awake and didn’t even look up as I walked past shoeless… with a gun tucked under my shirt. I blew out a breath and shook my head at the ease of it.
I didn’t glance over my shoulder at the front desk person, I just hurried into the locker room. I needed to shower desperately, and I had hoped I left an extra set of clothes and shoes in my locker. I needed a full outfit asap, and I especially needed to get this shirt that smelled like Mason off of me immediately. I couldn’t stand to be trapped by his smell, it made me sick.
I quickly found my locker and looked around before cautiously setting the gun on the changing bench while I attempted to open my locker. I tried to turn the dial on my combination lock, but my hands trembled and I missed the second number in my combination.
I looked around, I needed to get this gun into my locker, soon, before anyone came in and saw it. I shook my hands out and tried again, and finally managed to get the lock open. I blew out a breath of relief and quickly shoved the gun into the back corner. Another breath of relief at seeing my shower flip flops and an extra sports bra and leggings were shoved into the corner.
Thank God.
I shut my locker, but left the lock off, hiding it under the changing bench, in case I needed to grab my stuff and run. I seriously hoped no one was digging through lockers to steal something this morning. It was quiet enough, so I doubted it would be a problem, but with my luck, it wasn’t impossible. I decided I’d have to hurry in the shower just to be safe. I looked around and strained my ear, listening for a moment, before finally deciding I was safe. I grabbed a towel off the complimentary towel cart and headed for the shower.
I turned the water on scalding hot, which was only halfway as hot as it could get. I’d made the mistake of cranking it all the way up and nearly giving myself third-degree burns when I first started showering at the gym. A mistake I would not make again.
I peeled Mason’s shirt off and angrily chucked it into the trash can that was nearby before I stepped into the shower stall, and closed the opaque white shower curtain.
I closed my eyes and let out a breath as the hot water soothed me, and drowned out the other physical sensations in my body. The trembling, both the numbness and the high alert awareness of every physical sensation.
As I stood there letting the droplets beat against my skin, rhythmic drops, one after another, the thrumming and buzzing slowly started to quiet. I braced myself against the back tile wall with my hands and let the hot water pour down my head and face.
After standing there for a while, I finally pumped some of the complimentary citrus shampoo into my hands and started to lather my hair. As I felt the blunt ends of my shoulder length hair against my fingertips, I felt the anger bloom in me once again. It had been God damned fucking Mason who’d cut my beautiful long hair off.
I growled low and sharp in my throat, and it echoed against the walls in the empty locker room. As I lathered my hair, I tried to piece everything together in a clear line. Mason not only worked for the same agency, but he was my boss. He’d been the onekeeping me in line. AKA beating the shit out of me and then rescuing me, like he had nothing to do with it.
Fucking asshole.
I called him every name under the sun silently in my mind, because the alternative was that the love of my life betrayed me. I couldn’t bear it, so all the terrible names I could think of filtered through my head one after another, drowning out the chance for heartbreak to rear its ugly head.
I played his words over and over in my mind. ‘I did it to save you… They would have broken your bones. I can explain.’
