Mase (Storm Enterprises #5)

Prologue

MASE

TEN YEARS AGO …

My phone buzzes from beside me, and I groan as I roll over. It’s too damn early for my alarm. Finally freeing myself from the tousled sheets, I hang over the edge of my bed and rummage around on the dresser until my fingers latch onto my phone.

Slowly bringing it to my ear, I press the button to answer the call. “Yeah?”

“Hello. Am I speaking to Mr. Mason Campbell?”

“Yeah,” I grunt out while wiping the sleep from my eyes.

“Sir. This is Cheryl calling from New Jersey Hospital. I’m very sorry to inform you, but your wife has been involved in a traffic collision tonight.”

My heart rate spikes as I peer at the empty space in the bed beside me. Tara was meeting with her friends for a girls’ night—again, and knowing I was going to be up early in the morning for a meeting with the guys, she decided it was best if she just stayed over with them. Again.

“Is it possible for you to make your way over to us as soon as possible, please?”

I drag a hand over my head, trying to make sense of the call. Collision at 2:30 a.m.?

My throat becomes dry as anxiety rolls through me. “I-Is she okay?” I somehow manage to mumble, sliding off the bed, and start the process of getting dressed while the phone remains tucked at my neck.

The silence on the other end of the phone only adds to my fear. “It’s best you come down as soon as possible and discuss her injuries with a doctor, I’m afraid.”

My blood stills and a sickening feeling swells in the pit of my stomach. “She’s going to be okay, though, right?” A lump gathers in my throat at the thought. I lost my mom in a traffic accident; I can’t lose my wife too.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give you any more details.”

Irritation takes over me, but I find myself nodding. “I’ll be right there.” I end the call.

After double-checking I have my keys, I check the time on the clock, and my nostrils flare.

I want to demand more details. I want to know what the hell happened to my wife, and what the hell she was thinking.

The girls were supposed to be watching a movie and ordering takeout while having a pamper session.

None of that warrants being out so late.

I push my feet into my sneakers and head out of the door, my gut telling me something else has changed in our marriage. As the heavy ball of dread deepens, I head out of the door, hoping and praying my wife is okay, even if our marriage isn’t.

My best friends and I are from affluent families; we met in boarding school and started our business, STORM Enterprises, five years ago.

We already have a turnover in the billions, and it’s only increasing.

Growing and investing is our main goal right now, and with the connections, expertise, and money behind each of us, we’re on course for creating the most successful enterprise in the United States.

Something my father would be proud of … if I spoke to him—which I don’t.

I never expected my life to take the turn it did, not in a million years.

Nobody tells you marriage is easy. Nope, not a damn soul.

They all tell you it’s hard work, a process of love and trust, something you build on as you grow old together.

When I married Tara straight out of high school, it was because she was pregnant, and I’ve never shied away from that fact, nor has she.

I wanted to do the right thing by her, and I was determined to be the father I never had to our baby. I was going to be a better man; the man I wish my father had been to me and the husband my mom deserved.

Being the head cheerleader for the opposing school, Tara was the hot, forbidden chick everyone wanted to date, and I was the lucky bastard who snagged her.

She didn’t come from money, but when I was dipping my dick, I didn’t fucking care; I just didn’t expect her to become pregnant a few weeks into us dating.

The moment Tara lost our baby, it felt like my world was coming to an end. I’d married the girl I barely had feelings for and promised her a future I could no longer see.

A family. A baby. That was what I signed up for, not the bullshit I later discovered about her.

Did I love her?

I don’t really know what love is. I suppose I had at some point to have fought so long for us.

She has a way of sucking you in and keeping you. She’s like a siren who lures you, making you feel like you’re getting everything you ever wanted, when in reality, you never wanted it to begin with.

Now, as I sit next to the hospital bed with my leg bouncing, I know I can’t take her secrets and manipulation any longer.

Something has changed in her recently; her lies and cold demeanor are destroying us.

The way she’s been avoiding spending time with me has stopped the arguments but created a distance between us I’ve only been too happy to have.

But even I know, despite my traumatic childhood, this isn’t normal, and this isn’t good for either of us.

Of course, I’d never abandon her; I’d never leave her. I made her a promise, and my vows meant something, so I intend to follow through with them. But she’s taken advantage of me for far too long now, and it has to stop.

Has to.

Her right arm is wrapped in bandages, her face marred with bruises, cuts litter her cheeks, and nausea coils in my stomach at the thought of how much pain she must be in. At least she isn’t on oxygen or in a coma. That’s what I keep telling myself.

She appears to be sleeping, and given her current state, that’s probably best for her.

“Mr. Campbell?”

Slowly, I raise my head from staring at my clasped hands.

I clear my throat and meet the eyes of a doctor, one with sympathy oozing from him, and I swallow hard, knowing he’s about to deliver some bad news.

“I’m Doctor Ford, and I’ve been caring for Mrs. Campbell. She was involved in a traffic collision tonight at approximately”—he checks his watch—“one-fifteen.”

I nod, and he straightens his shoulders, releases a deep breath, then opens his mouth.

“I’m sorry to inform you, but the baby didn’t survive.”

A strange sound lodges in my throat, and confusion hits me.

My eyes bounce over his face before I look back at my wife. Does he have the right woman? The right documentation?

“Baby?” I gulp out, in equal parts mortification and panic. There’s no way in hell she was pregnant. None. She hasn’t let me touch her in so damn long I’ve forgotten how she feels against me.

The doctor surveys me further and gives me a swift nod, clearly confident in his assessment. “Yes, sir. Your wife was five months pregnant.”

Shock hits me right in the fucking chest, causing my lungs to burn. I throw my head back on a deep, sarcastic laugh that’s so fucking loud it sounds maniacal.

The doctor flinches, and I can only guess I’m coming across as unhinged.

He stares at me with wide eyes, and I shake my head.

“My wife was not pregnant, never mind five fucking months. I’d have known if my wife was pregnant for five months!” Irritation infiltrates my bloodstream, and blood rushes in my ears. I grind my jaw from side to side, then lift my chin. “You’re wrong,” I declare.

There’s no way Tara was pregnant. Hell, we haven’t had sex in almost a year. She never wants it, tells me she hates me, and in those moments, I hate her too.

“I’m sorry, sir. I delivered the infant myself.” He grimaces, and a flash of dread settles deep inside me. My heart squeezes tight, and I ball my hands into fists and continue shaking my head. I refuse to believe it. She wouldn’t.

She cheated? My wife cheated on me. She was meant to be mine. We made vows, a promise to one another.

And worse, she got pregnant with another man’s child, knowing how much I wanted that. Knowing how much it tore me up when she miscarried our baby. “There’s been a mistake. There has to be,” I whisper. Sure, she says she hates me, but this? She knows how much it would destroy me.

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s no mistake.” The solemn sound of his voice angers me. I don’t need his pity.

Languorously, I push back in my chair, and the squeaking as it scrapes along the linoleum floor grates on my nerves. I stand to my full height, and the doctor takes a step back, with fear flashing in his eyes.

I’m tall—especially compared to his short ass—at six-three, so I must look like a giant next to him, but right now, I feel like the smallest man to ever live.

“Get me another fucking doctor and a second opinion. Now!” I bark, causing him to jump.

He nods frantically, like a fucking idiot, and heads toward the door.

When he’s about to go through it, he twists around to look behind him, and his eyes lock with mine.

“Mr. Campbell. Just so that you’re aware, the man Mrs. Campbell arrived with tonight passed away.

His family is being informed now.” He slips through the door, and my ass hits the chair, hard.

His words ring out in my ears like a warning siren. “Mr. Campbell. Just so that you’re aware, the man Mrs. Campbell arrived with tonight passed away.” She was with another man?

No, she was having a girls’ night. A sleepover with friends. She told me she was.

My legs give way, and I slump against the chair as realization sets in. Unable to hide the hurt welling inside me, a pained gasp leaves my lips. “Please no, Tara.” I hold the back of my neck with both hands and drop my head between my legs, trying to dispel the storm brewing inside me. Please no.

There’s no way she’d betray me.

My lungs seize, and I struggle to suck in air. I can feel myself unraveling as my entire body shakes with a panic I can’t contain.

She wouldn’t. A sob catches in my throat, and I bite my lip to stifle its escape, trying desperately to remain in control.

No way.

She would never hurt me in that way. No, I refuse to fucking believe it.

Never.

We took vows; we promised one another a lifetime of commitment, love, and respect.

A lone tear trickles down my face, and an acute coldness takes over me while my mind races with the facts.

She was having another man’s baby. The one thing I always wanted, and she knew it. I gave her everything, and she committed the ultimate betrayal, knowing how much it would hurt me.

“She told me she loves me,” I whisper into the abyss.

Right?

Even as I tell myself all this, I feel it in the pit of my stomach, a sickening awareness coming over me. She lied to me.

I grip the arms of the chair as my world tilts on an axis.

She betrayed me, and there’s no coming back from that.

In one night, our entire future is destroyed.

Another tear slips down my face, and I stare into the abyss, uncaring of how many hours have passed. She cheated and destroyed us after she promised us a future of happiness and loyalty.

I thought I’d escaped the path of deception when I left my father’s home with her. I chose her; I promised her a lifetime of commitment, and I meant it. Jesus, I was prepared to fight for our relationship despite our flaws. Not once have I considered sleeping with someone else.

Losing our baby broke me; it’s something I never want to experience again. Discovering she willingly chose to have a baby with someone else, knowing how much I wanted a family of our own, is what hurts the most. It twists my stomach at the thought of her doing this to me, to us.

“M-Mase?”

I slice my gaze to hers.

“I lost the baby, didn’t I?” She reaches for my hand, but I keep them tightly balled at my side despite having a crazy urge to reassure her and protect her from the pain she’s enduring.

She’s my wife, and she’s in agony, the same pain we felt before, yet probably worse with how much she must have wanted this baby to carry it for so long in secret.

I clear my throat, but it’s still scratchy. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” My voice is monotone even though I feel sympathy for her. I want nothing more than to console her, but I’m broken, and I don’t think there’s any coming back from this.

“Mase, I need you.” She sobs, and I squeeze my eyes closed as the harrowing tone of her voice has a flashback assaulting me.

“Mase, I need you to promise me you’re going to be a good man when you grow up.

” My mom pushes my hair off my face. She’s kneeling before me with a bruised eye and a split lip.

Her firm hand holds me in place with a harsh grip that is unlike her.

The way her eyes bore into mine with desperation makes me nod, eager to comply and soothe her.

“Say it. Say the words, Mase. Promise me you won’t be like him,” she says, giving me another swift shake.

I pull in a deep breath and broaden my shoulders. “I promise, Mom. I promise to be a good man.” Her solemn face sparks with happiness, and a warm feeling spreads through me like a wildfire. I love making my mom happy, especially when my father makes her so sad.

“You’re going to be a good man, Mason Campbell, I just know it.

You won’t let me down.” She beams, and I replicate the expression, feeling it deep in my soul, and a determination sets in.

I’ll make my mom proud. My wife too. I’m going to have a family one day, one I will love and cherish, and they’ll give me that very same feeling back.

Just like a family is meant to.

“Mase, did you hear me? I said I need you.” She sobs louder as if feeling me slipping away.

“It’s happened all over again. My baby is gone; it’s gone, Mase.

” Hearing her say that out loud causes a gut-curdling sensation to twist deep inside me.

She’s getting louder with each word she sobs, and I finally take her hand in mine and stroke her thumb.

“Our baby is gone.” My breath catches in my throat at the tortured sound of her wail.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” I stroke the hair from her face, and it seems to soothe her.

“Please. I need you. I need you more now than ever, Mason.”

“I’m here,” I whisper, but something has changed, something I can’t acknowledge because I need to be here for her.

I need to follow through with my promise.