2. Mason
TWO
MASON
That was stupid.
And I had been doing so well. Keeping my distance. Watching her. Taking notes. Collecting data. Hiding in the shadows, the way I’m supposed to. The way I’m being paid to.
But today, something fogged my logic. This stupid need inside of me, wanting to see Lily Adams just a little bit closer.
When I took the job six months ago to find her, I expected some drug addict on her last leg, needing to be saved. That’s what her brother, Chase, made it sound like at least. But what I’ve actually found is someone completely different, and after watching her for the past two months, I’ve formed a bit of an infatuation.
And that is a fucking problem.
But she’s just so…different from what I was expecting.
She whips around the dingy diner she works at with a smile on her face, jabbering people’s ears off, acting like there’s nothing that can bring her down. But I see her as she counts her money at the end of the night. I watch the world settle on her shoulders when no one is around to notice her slump from the weight.
There are secrets in her eyes and hidden behind the tattoos on her arms.
I haven’t told Chase that I’ve found her. Unprofessional as hell, but honestly, I don’t really care. Instead, I’ve been collecting as much information as possible, so that once I pass it along to him, I can leave and never come this close to the West Coast again.
He’s lucky I took the job in the first place.
There was desperation sparking off his skin, and I could tell his need for finding her was genuine, and I respect that.
I’m not like other private investigators. Most work within the parameters of legality, running alongside the law. But I’ve spent too many years of my life living within boundaries, while watching the people who make them dance outside of their edges.
Rules for thee and not for me.
It’s all bullshit.
That’s not to say I’m a bad guy, because I don’t think I am. I’m just someone who knows how both sides work, and I know that just because we don’t see the cage, doesn’t mean we aren’t chained inside of it.
Meeting my mentor, Don, ten years ago was fortuitous. He took me under his wing and taught me everything I know. How to find people. Like Lily. And how to make them disappear from the grid. Like me.
Don taught me that you can see the soul of a man by looking in his eyes, and I’ve been a big believer in only helping those who I know are pure in their intentions.
Chase’s intentions are honest. And the heat spiraling through my insides as I watch his little sister lets me know that, suddenly, mine are not. And while normally, I would drop her location and be on my way, my loyalty to the paying customer is skewed by whatever this thing is swirling inside of me.
But going in and meeting her was fucking stupid.
I perk up from where I’m slouched on my Harley, slipping off the seat and standing, my coffee cold in my hand as Lily walks out the front door of her apartment.
Her complex is in the worst part of this do-nothing town—a small, run-down building with faded yellow siding and garish red front doors, the cement hallways that line the apartments stained with dirt and memories from a thousand different struggles.
She lives on the second floor. It’s a shithole.
But there’s a smile on her beautiful lips as she grabs her little boy’s hand, his face beaming up at her as they head down the street. It’s Wednesday morning, and I know without following that they’re on their way to the playground.
She doesn’t have a car, and she doesn’t really have any friends, so she rarely travels outside of the two-mile radius between her home and her work, but every Wednesday morning, like clockwork, she takes her little kid to the park on the edge of town. It’s not kept up well by the state— no surprise there —the colored metal of the monkey bars chipped and faded and the swings squeaking with rust, but that boy’s face lights up when they go like it’s the best thing in the world. A simple type of joy that we lose somewhere along the way. Either because we become conditioned to view the world through a certain lens, or because it’s beaten out of us by the harsh realities of our lives.
Maybe it’s a little bit of both.
My chest tugs as I follow them. and I grip the coffee in my hand tighter, teeth grinding visions of a different little kid running around a playground, looking at me the way this boy looks at Lily swim through my head.
When I come back to myself, Lily’s staring right at me.
Fuck .
That’s twice in two days now that I’ve messed up.
Her brows draw in, and I could swear recognition flickers in her eyes, which isn’t a big surprise really, I don’t exactly blend in. But still, I meant to keep to the shadows today.
She was never supposed to know who I was.
Lily glances back at her kid before taking a hesitant step toward me and my mind races trying to figure out whether I should turn tail and leave or play it off like a coincidence.
It’s not usual for a grown man to be watching a playground on a Wednesday morning. I cringe. This doesn’t look good.
Sure enough, her eyes narrow, body growing rigid as she stares me down.
Blowing out a breath, I make my way over, and while I know I shouldn’t be talking to her again, the thought of her thinking the worst is a dull blade prodding down my middle.
I don’t want her to think of me and feel disgust or fear.
I shouldn’t want her to think of me at all.
Taking a slow sip of my cold coffee, I walk toward them, noticing quickly how her back straightens as she moves her body to face me full-on, her chin sticking out. Despite how small she is, she looks intimidating. But most of my life was spent under intimidating people’s gazes, so it doesn’t have the intended effect.
I reach her, stopping when I’m a little over a foot away.
“Hi.” I say, trying like hell to come across friendly.
Her eyes are weary, face tilted high, and even though I’m six-six and she is barely over five foot, with the aura she’s radiating, she feels bigger than life.
She tilts her head. “Hi back.”
“Funny running into you here.” I smile.
“Is it?” She crosses her arms, glancing behind her.
Internally sighing, I realize this truly does come off as creepy. Borderline stalker. And while technically, I have been stalking her for the past two months, it’s not the way it looks.
Not that I can tell her any of that.
“I like to get outside in the mornings, get some coffee.” I lift my cup. “Some fresh air. Saw you over here and thought I’d come by. Apologize for yesterday.”
She sucks on her teeth. “You get your fresh air around playgrounds a lot?”
My eyes glance around, quickly taking in our surroundings, snagging on the Motel 6. I nod my head toward it. “I’m staying right over there.”
Her eyes follow, her right hand absentmindedly rubbing the wrist of her left arm, right over one of her tattoos. Finally, her eyes soften and she nods.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she sighs. “I was in a mood yesterday, and you were only trying to help. I was being a bitch.”
My lips twitch as I lean back in my boots and take her in.
“I’m Lily, by the way. If you’re gonna be stalking me, you might as well know my name.” She grins.
“I know. You told me yesterday when you poured my coffee. I’m Alex.”
Shit.
The name slips out before I can stop it, my mouth speaking before my brain can finish the thought.
She runs her fingers through her silky, dark hair. “Alex.” She bobs her head. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Alex. Maybe I’ll see you around again.” She glances to the motel before looking back at me, a cautious smile on her face.
I can take a hint. She’s ready for me to leave, so I stifle the amusement trying to break free at the thought and tip my head at her. “Only so many places around here to get hot coffee and good service, so I’m sure you will. Have a nice day.”
I spin, walking across the street toward the Motel 6 that I definitely am not staying at, and tell myself that I didn’t just monumentally fuck up. That this might work in my favor. Chase seems like the kind of guy who won’t be satisfied with a simple location, and this will allow me to get closer, gather more information to pass off. This woman is so different than what I expected, and I’m a fucking moron for letting her see my face. But I’m nothing if not adaptable. Technically, my job is done. I found her. And if I were smart, I would leave the West and everything that comes along with it as quickly as possible.
Go back to Nashville where it’s safe.
But as I look back one last time, there’s a burn simmering low in my gut, and I know I won’t be leaving.
Not yet.
Lily Adams is still too much of a mystery, and I’m desperate to uncover her secrets.