Page 63 of Mason

Mason

Screams.

Emily’sscreams.

The horrified shrieks cut through the tranquil forest like a blade, ricocheting off the surrounding trees and thundering through my chest.

I break into a sprint, the sand and fresh snow giving way under my boots.

Please don’t let this happen. I’ll never forgive myself if he hurts her. I’ll never forgive him, either.

The last two hours catapulted me back to the moments after finding Spencer, the system-wide dread igniting flames of panic. The torture played out behind the wheel, gunning down the highway, dialing frantically and practically foaming at the mouth with rage.

Grady didn’t answer his phone, and Dad answered drunk, too incoherent to understand, never mind work with. I couldn’t call our men. They’d side with Grady. He’s the second in command, leaving me powerless against the clock and the road ahead.

I’m alone, running into an unknown.

I never should’ve left her. At least I would’ve been there to protect her, to keep Grady’s worst instincts at bay. To talk him out of making the biggest mistake of his life. He doesn’t need Giambelli’s money to be free. He can walk away. I’ll help him. Fuck, I might walk away with him if it means saving him from himself. If it means sparing Emily.

The moon’s glow guides the way through the black forest, illuminating the outline of a vehicle ahead. It’s Grady’s coupe, resting precariously with the front half sunken. The closer I get, the reason is obvious: he drove straight into one of the massive ruts, nose diving into the sand. The hood ripples, the front bumper disconnected.

He doesn’t know the terrain out here. He knows nothing beyond bars and city blocks. They’re all he’s ever cared about. All he’ll ever care about. Life is his party, and everyone is merely attending it, standing between him and fun.

But he’s smart enough to spot that something’s off with me. Smart enough to stick a fucking tracking device on my car and follow it to the mother of all paydays. The junkie was nothing more than a distraction, keeping me tangled up long enough to tamper with my car, and too outraged to bother caring about what he did after. He sprinkled the Giambelli breadcrumbs and I followed them blindly. Just like he followed my footsteps in the mud to the path.

I’m such a fuckup.

I cut into the trees at the gnarled tree, charging through the briers as they attack with a vengeance, claiming their second bounty of blood in a day. The cabin’s smoke hangs in the air, a peaceful balm in a forest filled with screams.

Fight. Give it everything you have. Emily’s bound, but she has fire in her. She just needs to hold out a little longer. I’m almost there.

A faint glow in the distance stands out between the tree trunks. The cabin shouldn’t be visible. I boarded the main room’s only window, but it’s definitely the cabin, and the portion aglow is a larger span than the window. The closer I get, the source is obvious: the front door swings open, drifting in the breeze.

Emily’s screams amplify the closer I get, fueling me through the brush and up the stairs. I draw the 9mm as I enter the crumbling door, but I’m too late. A shot tears through the air, and a punch of heat hits my shoulder, sending me into the wall by the bathroom.

“Always knock when you enter someone’s home,” Grady scolds with a smirk, his weapon locked on my chest. His other hand knots in Emily’s hair as she kneels in front of the fireplace, still thrashing and screaming. “You’re acting like you own the place.”

He shot me. My own brother shot me. It doesn’t seem real, but the searing pressure is unbearable in my left shoulder. He almost hit my heart. He’s trying to kill me.

I don’t recognize this man wielding a gun with wide, unfocused eyes. He isn’t Grady. He’s a beast, his nose bloodied and a section of his left cheek marred with a waxy, red wound that spans nearly to his jaw.

Blood streaks the floor, a trail leading from the door to the bed. It pools at Emily’s feet, the bare soles red.

“Keeping secrets, are we?” Rage shakes the gun as Grady keeps it outstretched, his jaw clenched so hard the words barely slip out. “Trying to keep the money for yourself?”

“She has nothing to do with this. Let her go.” My eyes dip to Emily, who’s grabbing desperately at the hand snagged in her hair.

“How long have you kept this little toy, Mason? You’ve been fucking her this whole time, haven’t you?”

I keep my gun fixed on his chest, his breaths coming in uneven bursts. “I haven’t fucked anyone. She’s here for safekeeping.”

“Safekeeping? Is that what they call it now?” He laughs, pulling Emily’s head back, so she has to look at him. “You sucked his dick, didn’t you? You’re Mason’s type. He likes them young and dumb. It’ll break your daddy’s heart to know you fucked a Carlyle, you know.”

With her head tilted, the matted strands fall away, revealing her brutalized face. One of her eyes is swollen shut, the surrounding skin a sickening crescendo of blues and purples. Tears carve across her cheeks, defeat painted over her features.

“Grady, enough. Let’s go.”

“Shut the fuck up!” he snaps, coiling his hand in her hair tighter, making her scream so loudly that the echoes haunt the walls. “You’re always fucking telling me what to do! Learn your place, goddamn it!”

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