“I need air,” I say.
He studies me for a second longer, then nods towards the back exit. “Come on.”
The alleyway behind the precinct still smells like rain from last night. But it’s better than inside.
Mason leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching me like he’s waiting for the moment I crack.
It doesn’t take long. “I crossed a line.” No preamble or deflection.
His brow furrows. “What kind of line?”
I laugh once, the sound short and humorless. “The kind you don’t come back from.”
He straightens slightly. “Alex.”
“I ran a DNA test,” I continue. “Off the books.”
His expression hardens immediately. “On who?”
I don’t answer right away because I just can’t get the words out. Saying it out loud makes it real in a way I’m still settling in to.
“On Liv.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters.
“Yeah.”
“Without her consent?”
I nod.
Mason pushes off the wall, pacing once before turning back to me. “Why?” he demands.
“Because I needed to know,” I snap.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is when people are dying,” I shoot back.
The words hang there for a moment, ugly as they are.
Mason’s jaw tightens. “You don’t get to use that excuse,” he says. “Not with her and not after you broke major rules here, Alex.”
“I wasn’t using her,” I argue.
“You took something from her without her knowing,” he counters. “That’s using her, whether you want to call it that or not.”
Fuck, he’s right. Again.
“I’ve seen where that road goes,” he adds, quieter now.
So have I, that’s the problem.
“It’s not the same,” I shake my head.
“Isn’t it?”
For a second, it feels exactly the same. The same logic and the same desperation. It’s the same belief that the end will justify whatever I have to do to get there.
