Silence.
I drag myself off the bed and grab Mason’s T-shirt, flung over the headboard, and my skirt, crumpled on the floor. Slowly, I slide into the clothes, then prowl out of the room, barefoot, brushing my pebbled arms. My hand grazes the exposed bricks on the landing as I cautiously make my way down the stairs with soft steps.
“Mason?” I call again, peeking into the empty side room.
Where the hell is he?
I stop at the kitchen door and decide to get some water. My throat is so dry, my voice is too gruff to hear. A wave of chills spills from the fridge, kissing my face and sending a shiver through me. I grab a bottle of sparkling water and seal the door.
“Jesus,” I shriek, jumping out of my skin.
Hugo Pike stands at the kitchen’s threshold in baggy joggers and a hoodie, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed.
“Morning, princess.” His leering eyes drag down my legs,making me twitch. “How’s the hip?” An evil grin lights his long face.
“How’s the jaw?” I return the smirk, taking a sip of water. That wipes the smug expression off his face. “Where is Mason?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Fort business,” he replies, “a.k.a. none ofyourfucking business.”
“So, when will he be back?” I ask through gritted teeth, trying my best not to let him get to me.
“When the business is concluded,obviously.” Hugo shrugs.
Brilliant. So, Mason just leaves me here with Hugo, of all people? Out of all the hypothetical threats Jack and Mason keep warning me about, Hugo is the only one who’s actually come close to hurting me since I arrived at Fort. Unless you count Penny accidentally knocking me over while dancing.
Then another shadow trails down the stairs, making Hugo feel like my best friend.
I freeze, the cap of the bottle pausing in my hand as Kane, dressed all in black, strides into the kitchen, stomping his feet. A pointless reflex, since the man completely ignores my existence.
Speechless, I stare at him as he grabs a drink from the fridge and heads out without a word.
Mason promised they wouldn't return. What gives?
Just as I am about to head upstairs and summon Jack, the creaking sound of the ugly, red front door pierces the silence.
“She up yet?” my favorite voice asks.
A massive grin spreads on my face. Not only because I really needed out of this awkward interaction with his friend, but because I needed to know he was okay. It was just a nightmare, I know that. But in my head, it’s hard to tell the difference sometimes.
Mason walks in, looking illegally hot, in a white T-shirt, black jeans, and a leather jacket, his hair tousled, no stab wounds, no blood.
“Go help,” Mason barks at Hugo, grabbing his neck and shoving him toward the door, before he covers the distance to me in four long strides. I stand on my tiptoes, ready to greet him.
“You said we would be alone,” I whisper with a pout. His lips twitch at one corner, then press against mine, fingers gripping the hem of my skirt and tugging it down, as far as it will go. I giggle between the kisses. My clothes are just fine, Mason gets mad at the wind if it blows my skirt up nowadays.
“Why are they back?” I ask.
“To steal all my food,” he grunts against my lips. “Fucking scavengers.”
He tastes so good, my fingers rake in his hair, pulling him close as I start rubbing myself up and down his front.
“Behave.” He breaks the kiss.
“What? You didn’t miss me?”
