Chapter 34 - Mason
Mason
I'm surrounded by exposed studs in a half-finished kitchen extension on Laurel Lane, and I cannot get my brain to stay inside this room.
It keeps drifting all the way to Chicago, where Beth has rushed. And every time I try to pull my focus back to the header joist, her face is right there behind my eyes.
The way she looked last night. When her heat hit out of nowhere and we stepped in, running on nothing but instinct and the sound of her voice telling us more.
When the heavy dose of suppressants finally kicked in, all three of us told us we'd take a full day off and drive her to Chicago.
But she didn't want to hear any of it. So all I could do was lie there in the tangled wreckage of her bed, fighting every single screaming instinct in my body that wanted to chase her down and fix the entire world for her.
I put the tape measure down.
Focus.
I've got maybe an hour of work left on this extension. Crown molding in the bathroom, final check on the cabinet framing, then I'm done and I can head home, shower, change, and drive to the rehearsal venue with Arthur and Knox.
That's it, the thing I should focus on now is my best friend's wedding. Beth will be fine, she can take care of herself. Maybe I should just try to find the perfect finish to my toast and—
My phone buzzes on the sawhorse behind me. Ben's name's on the screen.
I wipe my hands on my jeans and pick up.
"Hey."
"Mason. Hey. Are you—" Ben's voice is tight and there's music and voices in the background. "Are you busy right now?"
"Finishing up on Laurel Lane. What's going on?"
"Okay. So." He exhales. "Beth's rental car broke down."
The kitchen extension disappears. The studs, the sawdust, the tape measure, the crown molding, all of it drops away, leaving only Ben's voice and the silence of my entire nervous system going from idle to redline.
"Is she okay?" I ask, moving toward my jacket.
"I don't know, that's the problem. She shared her location with Harp before her phone died.
That was maybe twenty minutes ago and no one's been able to reach her since.
" My hand tightens around the phone. "Harp's.
.. not great. The walk-through rehearsal starts in about two hours, and Beth promised she'd be here, and now Harp's—"
"Send me the location." I pull my keys from my back pocket.
"I—what?"
"The pin she dropped to Harper," I say. "Send it to me."
"Okay. Yeah, I can do that," he says. "But even if you left right now, that's at least ninety minutes of driving, and the rehearsal—"
"Ben," I cut in. "Send it."
Another pause.
"Okay, I'll forward it from Harp's phone now," he says quietly. "But the rehearsal, Mason. It starts in two hours. If you're driving out there, there's no way you'll make it back in time—"
"We'll be there as fast as we can." I shrug my jacket on one-handed.
"We?" His voice shifts. "All three of you?"
"They'll want to come. And honestly, none of us would be any use at the rehearsal with our heads somewhere on down the highway."
He's quiet for a second. I think he wants to say something about how the three of us dropping everything to drive to a location pin is maybe not the most rational play, especially when roadside assistance exists.
And he'd be right, sorta. But Beth's phone is dead and she's alone on the shoulder of a highway and I'm not taking the chance she's stuck out there waiting on a stranger who could be anyone.
"Drive safe," he says instead.
I hang up. The location pin comes through ten seconds later, a blue dot on a strip of interstate, and I call Knox first.
He picks up on the second ring. "Mason." He sounds tired, like an alpha who spent all night taking care of his omega. "Have you heard from—"
"Beth's car broke down about forty-eight miles outside Chicago. Phone's dead. Harper's got a location pin from before it died. I'm forwarding it to you now."
Two seconds of silence. That's all Knox needs.
"Forty-eight miles south." I can already hear him moving. A chair pushing back. Laptop closing. "That puts her right around the Dwight exit.
"I'm leaving now. I'll pick you up at the apartment in fifteen."
"Twelve," Knox says. "I'll be on the curb."
He hangs up and I call Arthur.
He picks up on the first ring. "Hey, any news from B—"
"Beth's stranded about forty-eight miles outside Chicago," I say. "Her car broke down and her phone is dead. I've got her location. I'm picking up Knox in twelve minutes at the apartment. Be outside."
"Shit." Something clatters. "Do we know if she's okay?"
"We don't know anything."
"Fuck, okay." I hear a door opening. "I'll start calling tow companies along that stretch. If she managed to get through to someone before her phone died, they'll have her on file. Might be able to confirm she's not just sitting out there alone."
"Good." I grab my tape measure off the plywood and toss it into my toolbox. "Meet you down our building in twelve."
"I'll be there in eight," he says.
I hang up, grab my jacket off the sawhorse, and walk out of the half-finished kitchen without looking back.