Chapter Five
London
“It really isn’t what it looks like,” I stammer.
Mason leans back against the leather seats, and his eyes move over my face, leaving a trail of unease in their wake. “So you said.”
Heart thundering in my ears, I fold my arms over my chest, working to keep the tremor out of my voice. “Well, it isn’t. I’m telling you the truth.”
Except we both know I’m omitting key parts.
Just tell him the truth. He’ll be mad, but he’ll get over it. Mason will see reason; he has to.
But I’ve only ever seen that look on his face when he’s dealing with his enemies.
I know he would never hurt me, but I can’t shake the tightness in my chest. Mason isn’t going to lay a finger on me, but it doesn’t mean he can’t find other ways to make me break, especially if he thinks it affects the empire.
On impulse, my hands move to my stomach, and I resist the urge to stroke it.
Now isn’t the time.
Mason levels me with another look. “You’re testing my patience, London. And the longer you sit there, the worse it will be when you tell me.”
My lips part, and I drop my hands to my sides.
I can’t give him the answers he wants, but I can give him something else.
Suddenly, it’s on the tip of my tongue, every last sordid detail, but then I picture Olivia’s crestfallen face.
I know Mason won’t hurt his sister either, but he can make life unpleasant, starting with taking away what little freedom she has left.
Olivia has already sacrificed a lot.
She’s a Payne. What’s the worst he can do? Have someone follow her around and restrict her movements? It could be a lot worse than that.
My mind races with possibilities, but the longer I sit there underneath Mason’s watchful gaze, the worse I feel.
I desperately want to alleviate the burden and bring Mason into the loop, if only so I don’t feel like I’m betraying him, but I’m also still rebelling against the idea of selling out Olivia.
She might be Mason’s sister, but over the past few weeks, in a sea of chaos and confusion, she’s given me a purpose. On the days when the voices of doubt and suspicion in my head are almost too loud for me to ignore, working on the plan with Olivia has helped me keep my head above water.
It's one of the few things keeping me from losing my sanity altogether.
Slowly, I clear my throat and place my hands in my lap. “I was trying to help.”
Mason’s expression remains impassive.
“I was trying to help by digging up information. I didn’t want anyone to recognize me, so I figured if I wore a disguise, I was more likely to get some answers.”
“I see.”
“I thought they’d talk to me if they thought I worked at your club or something,” I add. “You know how men are.”
Mason grunts.
“I know I shouldn’t have snuck out, but I was also hoping I’d find out if they were planning to go after my family again to get to me,” I finish. “My parents still won’t take my calls.”
Mason stares at me. “Once things are a bit more stable, we can arrange for you to go to them.”
I shake my head. “They’re probably being watched, and I don’t want to risk anyone recognizing me.”
I’m tempted to throw the car door open and run out, but I know there’s no point.
There’s nowhere far enough to keep me safe—to keep us safe, and Mason isn’t the one I want to hide from.
Even if the blank look on his face is setting off alarms in my head.
I know he’s not buying my story, but I can’t figure out a way to make it more convincing.
I still have no idea how I managed to shake Katia even while wearing my ridiculous disguise, but I had to see it for myself.
The abortion clinic I was visiting could be the answer to our more immediate problem, but I can’t bring myself to say it.
Not yet.
Before I know it, we’re pulling up to the estate, and Mason still hasn’t said much.
Once we pull up outside the main door, he throws the door open and holds out a hand.
I reach for him, and he pulls me out of the car with a little more force than necessary.
And then, I’m being pulled up the stairs behind Mason, and I have to sprint to keep up.
“Slow down.”
Mason doesn’t respond and continues pulling me down the hallway.
At the foot of the stairs, he spares me a look and punches in a code. Using his free hand, he wrenches the door open, and I stumble into the darkness behind him. My chest tightens as we move deeper into the shadows.
Soon enough, a bright light floods the area, and I realize we’re in the basement.
I gasp when my eyes land on Noah; his head is slumped forward. He stiffens when he hears me and lifts his gaze, staring at me through his good eye. I pry my fingers from Mason’s grasp and swallow. Noah sits up straighter, his eyes never leaving my face, and we stare at each other.
“I don’t like it when people lie to me,” Mason says from somewhere to my right. My gaze snaps to his, but he isn’t looking at me. He’s circling Noah, having rolled his sleeves to his elbows. He comes to a stop in front of him and gives me another look.
No amount of desperate and fervent wishing will make Mason believe me.
I need to find another way to get through to him.
I force myself to take one step, then another. “Mason, you know me. You know I wouldn’t betray you.”
“Lying is a form of betrayal, Pigeon.”
My mouth is dry. “Not if it’s for the right reasons.”
Mason throws his head back and lets out a low, humorless laugh. “So, by that logic, Noah shouldn’t be punished.”
“That’s different.”
Mason stops laughing and looks at me. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to confess everything.
“Is it different because you have better reasons, or because we’re fucking?”
I meet his gaze evenly. “I will not dignify that with a response.”
Do not let him bait you. It isn’t just your ass or Olivia’s on the line.
How do you think he’ll feel if he finds out his right-hand man has been helping?
You and Olivia might be spared the brunt of his anger, but Carlisle won’t.
And telling him about the baby won’t make any of this better either, not now.
Mason places his thumb and index finger under my chin, forcing me to hold still. “You’ll do what I tell you, Pigeon, and you’d better hope I’m satisfied with your answer.”
I tell myself not to look away. “And if you’re not?”
Mason steps closer, so his smell washes over me, and his voice drops an octave. “Then you try again.”
“This is ridiculous.” I try to wrench free, but Mason won’t let go. “You know how crazy this all is.”
“Crazy is one word for it.”
I reach out to touch him.
His eyes tighten as I place my hands around his waist and squeeze. “Why are we here?”
“We all need reminding,” Mason says.
“Reminding?”
“Of why we’re here.” Mason’s breath fans across my face. He leans in and captures my lips with his. His mouth is hot and unyielding as he kisses me, and I remain still as a statue. When one hand moves to cup the back of my neck, and the other moves down to knead my ass, desire courses through me.
He releases the back of my neck and drops his hand to the small of my back.
Every touch and kiss makes every inch of me stand at attention.
His other hand moves to my waist, and he digs his nails there, eliciting a soft moan. I sigh as my fingers move to his shoulders, and I grip them to keep from falling, but I know it’s too late.
I’ve been hurtling toward the edge for a while, and I’m not sure I want to be saved.
Free-falling feels so good.
A voice in the back of my head screams at me to stop, to spare Noah from having to see all this on display, but I can’t listen. Mason nips on my lower lip, my mouth parts, and he plunges his tongue into my mouth. He’s trying to claim me, punish me, own me, but I don’t care.
I want more.
I need more.
Mason shifts, and we move together until my back hits the wall.
My hands move from his shoulders to his hair, and I wind my fingers through the thick strands.
Mason growls softly, and it sends another bolt of desire through me.
One finger trails a path down my chest and stops at the waistband of my jeans.
As soon as he cups me over the thin fabric, it’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been dumped on me.
My eyes fly open, and I squirm against him.
Mason lowers his hands.
“Why…” I trail off, my voice hoarse and thick with desire. “Why did you do that?”
Mason shrugs and goes back to Noah, who is leaning away with a pained expression.
“Mason,” I murmur to his retreating back. “You don’t have to do any of this.”
Mason stills, but he still won’t look at me when he talks. “Sometimes, it’s like you don’t know me.”
I move closer and reach for his hand. “I do know who you are, underneath all this.”
Mason shakes off my hand, and his jaw tightens. “All of this, as you put it, is a part of me. You need to learn to accept it.”
“I know.”
Mason finally looks at me then, and it feels like we’re standing on opposite ends of a chasm, growing wider and wider. “Do you?”
I nod.
“Why were you outside today?”
I ball my hands into fists. “I already told—”
Mason holds a hand up and scowls. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Pigeon. You and I both know that wasn’t why.”
I consider my next words carefully. “You’re going to have to trust that I was trying to help.”
Some of the ice in Mason’s eyes melts. “I do, but I also need you to understand that you’re in way over your head.”
I frown. “I do.”
“You don’t.” Mason shakes his head and turns back to Noah. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Noah turns an angry shade of red. “You didn’t seriously drag her down here to flaunt your relationship and then ask me for advice, did you?”
Mason chuckles. “That wasn’t flaunting. If I wanted to rub it in your face, you’d know.”
A vein pulses in Noah’s neck.
In a few quick strides, Mason is in front of me again, and he pulls me against him. I start to voice my protest as his hands trail down my neck and stop over my chest. My pulse is hammering now, and my chest is heaving as Mason moves his hand from my neck to my chest.
He squeezes, and desire pools in my stomach. “How does it feel to know you never made her feel this way?”