I don’t know whether Mason meant to hurt him that night, but I can’t get that image out of my mind, nor his violent words. And he certainly doesn’t appear to be someone who makes empty threats.
But any further arguments will have to wait since Jack is already driving over. The Bentley stops in front of us, then Jack steps out, wearing a charcoal suit, sunglasses, and a frown.
“You’re late,” I accuse.
“I’m not sure you’re qualified to give me a lecture on punctuality,” Jack mutters.
Caden laughs. I elbow him in the chest, eyeing the guard in the passenger seat. Usually, they follow in the BMW. They never drive with us. But that’s not the only unusual part.
“Since when do you wear sunglasses?” I squint. There is something very off about him today.
“Yeah, dude.” Cade snorts. “Wrong country if you’re looking for sunshine at this time of the year.”
“I have a migraine.”
“Should you be driving me if you have a migraine?”
“I’m perfectly fine to drive,” he snaps, then turns to open the door for me. “If you’re done with the questions, can we leave?”
Caden and I exchange a look at his snipped tone. Again, very unlike Jack.
“Take them off.” I cross my arms at the chest. I can’t see his eyes, but I know they’re glaring and I couldn’t care less. “That or I walk.”
He lets out a deep sigh, but slides them off, revealing a very black-looking black eye.
“Ouch.” Caden winces.
“That’s one colorful migraine you have,” I comment. “What happened?”
“Some locals at the pub recognized me,” he mutters. “Don’t worry about it.”
No!This, because he’s my head of security? Guilt washes over me. No wonder Jack is staring at me like I’m some burden he no longer wants to carry.
“If that’s your boyfriend’s work.” Caden leans in to whisper in my ear. “Stay the fuck away from me, okay?”
“Excuse me?”
“Mason Grant.” Caden raises an eyebrow, and my breath falters.
I gawk at him, speechless. Deep inside, I have been terrified that Thea or Caden might have seen Mason that night, or worse, heard us.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stutter.
“Oh, really.” He snorts. “Then it must have been his ghost Isaw coming out of your bedroom last week.” Caden flashes me a cheeky grin.
Damn it.
Wait, he said, “coming out.” At least, he didn’t see him walk in. Or this would be averydifferent conversation. My mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. Before I have a chance to remember how humans formulate sentences, Caden holds up a hand.
“Save it, I did the math. Just ease off on the modesty lecture, okay?”
Jack drives me to the store to pick up some groceries while I try to even out my pulse after Caden’s abrupt revelation.
I have been trying very hard not to think about the psycho who broke into my flat, then through my every defense and unraveled me so completely, I don’t recognize the tattered pieces of myself he left behind. Is that me now? Climbing on top of strangers and letting them undo me in lieu of some unforgivable urge I shouldn’t have had in the first place?
Heat coils inside me just at the thought of his touch, which I can’t seem to scrub from my skin.
Stop. Not thinking about him. Not at all.
