Page 74 of Honeyed

Mom and Dad pepper the two parents-to-be with questions as Nonna performs an old incantation over Cass’s belly for good health and a beautiful daughter.

But it’s something across the river that catches my eye. Maybe it feels like someone’s watching me, that prickle of awareness chilling my skin in the summer heat. I don’t know for sure, but I do know that when I turn and focus on the dusky banks across from where I stand, I see him.

Mason.

Watching us with that strange smile on his face.

I must make a noise, even though I feel numb, because the next thing I know, Warren is shaking me from the moment.

“Baby?”

“I thought I saw …” People pass in front of my eyes, making it hard to see if I glimpsed who I think I did.

“What is it?” Patrick asks because he’s the next closest to me.

“Al?” Warren asks as I’m still trying to peer through the crowd.

He comes back into focus with a grin on his face as he waves at me.

“Mason. That director. He’s over there on the other side of the banks.” I point, my voice breaking with anxiety and the fear that rushes through my veins.

“You’re sure?” Warren pulls my face so that I’m looking at him, concern, fear, and fury painting a worried expression in those gray eyes.

I nod, trying to gulp past the lump in my throat.

“No one stands over on that side, though, unless they have a house.” Evan peers into the darkness.

The first firework goes off, rattling me and sending me skittering into Warren’s arms.

“Alana, calm down,” Patrick soothes, rubbing my back as Warren hugs me.

“I swear, I saw him. I’m not making this up.”

Because I’d recognize that unhinged stare of his anywhere. I’ve seen it in my nightmares lately, and maybe it’s my brain’s way of sending up red flags about him.

“I believe you. I … it’s weird, I thought I felt someone watching me.” Warren scrubs his jaw as he pulls me closer to him.

“There is no one over there now,” Evan confirms, cluing in on our conversation.

“What’s going on?” Dad asks.

“Alana thought someone was watching them. Is this a person you know?” Liam asks.

We’re now surrounded by family, protectiveness radiating from my male-dominated nuclear family.

I have to push the words out even though my tongue feels heavy. But they don’t come. I feel nothing but confusion and a looming threat, which is strange when only moments before, I felt nothing but contentment and happiness. Like it slammed up against me, this tidal wave of danger, I should look out for.

“Mason Klein is the director for a documentary. He’s asked me to be a part of it, and I’ve said no repeatedly. This isn’t the first time he’s shown up somewhere that Alana and I are, and this is starting to feel less and less kosher or coincidental each time,” Warren grits out, filling in the blanks.

“What’s the documentary about?” Evan looks confused.

“My father.” Warren’s voice is quiet, but the gasps that come from my family are not.

“How incredibly inappropriate of him.” Mom is indignant. “Not only to ask in the first place or give that monster any airtime at all, but then to keep following up after you say no. Is he … is he following you?”

“Seems that way,” I answer grimly.

“We’ll report it to the police,” Dad answers, and it feels nice to have him believing our word right off the bat.

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