Chapter Sixteen Mason Reed #2
“You always did collect strays, Billie,” Ryan called. “This one broken too?”
Mason lunged.
Billie shoved both hands into his chest.
Not gentle.
He stopped because her face was in front of his and because if he moved through her, he would become exactly the kind of man she did not need.
“Mason,” she said, voice shaking with fury. “Beside. Not in front.”
He breathed hard.
Ryan lifted his phone.
Billie turned instantly, putting her shoulder toward the camera, not hiding, just refusing the shot he wanted.
“Police are coming,” she called. “Leave.”
Ryan grinned. “For what? Visiting my uncle’s sponsored rink?”
“For trespassing,” Billie said. “For harassment. For entering staff-only areas after being banned. For damaging private property. Pick one.”
Ryan’s smile flickered.
Good.
Mason forced himself to stay still.
Ryan pointed his phone at Mason. “Careful, Reed. Bad look, threatening locals during your charity glow-up.”
Mason wanted to answer.
He did not.
Billie’s hand was still on his chest.
This time, not a viral almost-touch.
A command.
An anchor.
A boundary.
He stayed.
Then Gabe’s voice cut across the loading lane.
“Camera’s on me too.”
Ryan’s head snapped toward the side.
Gabe Mercer stood near the loading gate with his own phone raised, suitcase abandoned somewhere behind him, expensive jacket slightly crooked.
Mark stood beside him, also filming. Alby appeared at the other angle, broad and grim, not filming, just looking like a man who had considered and rejected mercy.
Gabe’s voice was cool. “You should leave before this becomes the part everyone sees.”
Ryan’s face hardened.
For the first time, uncertainty crossed it.
He looked at Billie.
“This isn’t over.”
Billie’s smile was ice. “I know. I keep records.”
Ryan backed away.
Then turned and disappeared toward the car park.
Mason’s body shook with unused violence.
Billie’s hands remained against his chest.
Her eyes met his.
“Breathe,” she said.
He did.
Once.
Again.
Behind them, the emergency door swung open. Sophie rushed out first, Harper behind her, Theo and Nate after them. Evie appeared at the doorway, pale and furious.
“Did he touch anyone?” Sophie asked.
“No,” Billie said.
Her voice was steady again.
Too steady.
Sophie looked at Mason’s leg. “Knee?”
Mason blinked.
Then the pain roared back.
“Fine,” he said automatically.
Everyone stared.
Billie’s face went murderous. “Do you want to die?”
He grimaced. “Not fine.”
Sophie pointed. “Inside. Now.”
Nate looked at Ryan’s exit path, face dark. “I should go after him.”
Theo grabbed the back of his hoodie. “No.”
“But with friendship.”
“No.”
Alby said, “Police can have him. I’m too old for court.”
Harper’s hands were shaking as she typed. “Security is ten minutes away. Police non-emergency moved it up after Mark said he was inside. They said if he returns or threatens anyone, call emergency.”
Gabe lowered his phone. His gaze moved to Billie. “I got most of it.”
Billie looked at him.
For one surreal second, the agent and the Ice Queen simply assessed each other.
Then Billie nodded. “Thank you.”
Gabe looked almost uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.”
Mason might have enjoyed that if his knee were not trying to resign.
Billie noticed him shift weight.
“Inside,” she said.
“I can walk.”
“I did not ask for a performance review.”
He smiled despite the pain. “Bossy.”
Her eyes flashed. “Currently not in the mood to find that charming.”
“Noted.”
But she stayed beside him as they went back in.
Not under his arm. Not carrying him. Not making him feel weak.
Just beside.
Steady.
The archive corridor felt worse on the way back.
The cracked photo still lay on the floor.
Harper documented it. Mark called Graham again.
Gabe forwarded his video to Harper without argument.
Alby stood guard at the corridor entrance like a one-man wall.
Theo took Max and the young volunteer out of sight before they could see the damage.
Evie stood with Billie near the photo, silent tears finally slipping down her face.
Billie saw.
Her own face changed.
She pulled Evie into a hug without hesitation.
Mason sat on a chair Sophie had shoved under him and watched Billie hold her cousin in the hallway where her memories had been vandalised.
He had never wanted to be worthy of a place so badly in his life.
Sophie crouched in front of him and checked his knee.
“You stepped hard,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“You stopped.”
His gaze went to Billie.
“Yeah.”
Sophie followed his look.
Her voice softened. “Good.”
“Doesn’t feel good.”
“It is. Pain means your body noticed the bad choice. Stopping means your brain did.”
He let out a rough laugh. “That’s inspirational.”
“I’m billing it as medical care.”
Billie came over after Evie stepped away.
Her eyes dropped to his knee. “Damage?”
Sophie answered before he could lie. “Flared. Not catastrophic. He stops for the day. Ice, elevation, no more heroics.”
Billie looked at Mason.
He braced for anger.
Instead, she said quietly, “You stopped.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“But you did.”
The words landed between them.
Important.
Mason nodded.
“Because you told me to,” he said.
Her throat moved.
Behind them, Gabe cleared his throat. “Mason.”
Mason did not look away from Billie. “Later.”
“This matters.”
“Then say it here.”
Billie started to step back.
Mason’s hand moved before he could stop it.
Not grabbing.
Just reaching.
He stopped himself before touching her.
She saw.
So did he.
She stayed.
Gabe’s gaze moved between them, and some final piece of his strategy seemed to give way.
He exhaled. “I came here to tell you to leave after Friday.”
The corridor went quiet.
Mason looked at him now.
Gabe continued, “I had meetings lined up. North American teams willing to watch tape. A conditioning stint possibility. A pathway back if the knee held and the story stayed clean.”
Mason’s chest tightened.
There it was.
The old dream, standing in the hallway with a travel itinerary.
Gabe looked at the cracked photo on the floor. Then at Billie. Then at the people around them.
“This story is not clean,” Gabe said. “But it is real.”
Billie went still.
Mason did too.
Gabe shook his head slightly, as if annoyed with himself. “And real might be better for you than clean.”
Mason stared.
“Are you having a growth moment?” Nate whispered from the end of the corridor.
Theo smacked his shoulder.
Gabe ignored him, eyes on Mason. “I still think you need to protect your career. I still think there are risks here. But I was wrong to treat this rink like a stepping stone and Billie like a variable.”
Billie’s face gave away nothing.
Mason saw the impact anyway.
Gabe looked at her. “I apologise.”
Billie nodded once. “Accepted.”
“Again,” Nate whispered. “Redemption arc pending.”
Alby said, “Call it a subplot.”
Mason almost laughed.
Then his phone buzzed.
He checked it.
Unknown number.
A video message.
His blood went cold before he opened it.
Billie’s phone buzzed at the same time.
Harper’s too.
Then Evie’s.
Ryan had posted a live video.
He stood outside Harbour Ice Centre’s front sign, face flushed, smile brittle.
“Interesting how fast Billie Hartley calls security when someone tells the truth,” Ryan said into the camera. “Ask her about the money. Ask her about what she did to keep that rink. Ask her why she really needs this fundraiser so badly.”
Billie went white.
Mason pushed to stand.
Sophie shoved him back down with one hand.
The video continued.
Ryan’s smile widened.
“Friday should be fun.”
Then the video ended.
For one second, nobody spoke.
Billie stared at the frozen screen.
Mason looked at her.
“What money?” he asked softly.
Billie did not answer.
Evie covered her mouth.
Mark closed his eyes.
And Gabe, who had arrived to pull Mason away from the mess, looked around the corridor and said the thing no one else did.
“He’s not trying to crash the event anymore.”
Billie lifted her eyes.
Gabe’s face was grim.
“He’s trying to destroy it before Friday.”