Page 106 of 12 Months of Mayhem

That was his thing.

“Uh… are you sure? Do we really nee—”

“Please!” I pleaded, grabbing the car keys and hurrying him toward the door. “Pretty please.”

He paused for a second, his eyes meeting mine and seeing obvious desperation in them. He took the keys from my hand and nodded. “Okay, baby. I’ll go get them. I’ll only be twenty minutes.” Leaning in, he pressed a peck to my cheek before backing away, his grin wide.

I didn’t move until he reached the end of the path. The second he was out of eyesight, I knew I only had a second. Flicking the lock, I made my way to the sofa, my brain counting the steps like I’d done the day we unpacked.

The energy in the room was shifting.

It was moving.

Swirling.

Like it was preparing for a hurricane.

I crouched down, my hand grasping the short metal handle, my finger curling around the trigger. As I spun, the barrel of my gun found the center of his chest as he stood over me.

“Get out,” I growled, fighting the tremor in my muscles.

Anxiety.

Fear.

Excitement, maybe.

Mason didn’t flinch.

Not even a fucking twitch.

“No.”

My finger flicked the safety off, my hand shaking only slightly. He was less intimidating when I closed those extra few inches, but the hulking giant of a man still had a good couple of feet on me. “The hell are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by and help you get off since your little boyfriend there is obviously incapable of making a woman com—”

“Mason!” I snapped, trying not to give in to that instant wave of heat that rushed over me from just hearing him talk about his hands on my body. “You need to leave,” I growled through clenched teeth.

His eyes locked onto mine, unfazed by the gun pressed to his heart.

There was something dark there, a storm brewing. It was as if the years had carved out a barrier of protection, a shadow so thick it hid every shred of emotion, every weakness so nothing could break through.

But I could see it, just barely.

The pain, the betrayal.

“Go on. Pull the trigger,” he taunted, holding my gaze. “There’s no fucking heart in there anyway. You should know that. You’re the one who ripped it the fuck out.”

There was no fighting the wave of emotions that hit me, or the couple of tears that dripped down onto my cheeks. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, refusing to let Mason see the impact he had on me. “Get out,” I spat, the stern tone surprising even me. He just stood there, leaning back against the wall, eyes locked on mine, his silence more deafening than any words he could have spoken.

“Who’s the bastard trying to feel you up like a horny teenage boy?”

I clenched my teeth, slowly lowering my gun to my side. “None of your business.”

“I beg to differ,” he countered.

“What do you want, Mason?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t catch the slight tremor in my voice. I stood a little taller, trying to force the fear and the regret into the corner of my mind. “Is this what you’ve been searching for? A way to come in and scare me, make me feel like shit, torment me because I hurt you? Go ahead. Do it already.”

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