Chapter 16 Eva #2
I look down at my dress and panic. The pleasure part of the red sign seems to blink at me as I realize what I just walked into. My teeth dig into my lower lip, looking around for a sign or someone who can help direct me to the poker side of this establishment.
And then I see someone—the absolute last person I want to find here.
My heart skips a beat when I see Mason in the back corner. He sits on an armchair, a brunette in red lingerie perched on his lap. Deep in conversation with a bald guy, he doesn’t seem to pay her any attention. Though his lack of interest doesn’t seem to deter her hands from roaming all over him.
Acid pools in my mouth as she runs a finger down his neck to his chest.
Something the bald guy says makes Mason laugh. He reaches for his drink on the side table, his head turning in my direction.
I freeze.
Don’t react. You’re wearing a mask. He doesn’t know it’s you.
Then why does his hand pause on the glass? Why is his face slowly hardening, and why are his eyes slowly narrowing to slits? Mason’s glass slams down, whiskey splashing on the table.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
In a flash, he jumps to his feet, the girl falling off his lap and landing on the other guy. And then he charges toward me.
I whisper-shriek and make a run for it.
Not knowing where I’m going, I choose the hallway with the best lighting that doesn’t seem to be lined with mysterious rooms. I make my way past two girls in lingerie and head down the dimly lit lobby.
“Stop!” he yells, catching up to me in no time, his voice echoing in the empty space.
My feet halt. I let out a heavy sigh and turn around. He’s right behind me.
“The fuck are you doing here?” he snarls.
“I was invited, remember?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Over a week ago, and you refused the invitation.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” I start to walk away, but Mason grabs my elbow and pulls me back. “Hey, get your paws off me.”
“This is not the kind of night you should be here.”
“No kidding!” I flash him a sarcastic smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on staying long. So why don’t you go back to entertaining your audience and leave me alone.”
He shoves me against the wall and invades my space, blocking my way and locking me in with both hands on the wall, on either side of my face. “Tell me what you are doing here, or I’ll carry you out right now.”
“It’s none of your business.” I spit.
“You are mine,” he snaps. “Where you go is absolutely my business.”
My lips part as I stare at him, a mixture of desire and disgust twisting in my stomach.
The ground tilts slightly when he says that.
Like it’s a fact, a certainty, no room for negotiation.
I stare at his hard face. The devil-incarnate who terrifies me and the malevolent god who consumes me entirely.
It’s alarmingly easy to lose myself when Mason is this close.
His sharp edges and magnetism take up all my mental real estate.
Focus!
“I’m here for Caden. Have you seen him?”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, and I immediately regret my words.
“Not yet,” he bites out, with a cunning look in his eyes. “And next time you see him, you won’t recognize his face.”
“If you put a finger on him, you’ll never touch me again,” I warn.
He raises an eyebrow, a dark smirk curling his lips on one side. “Is that an invitation?”
“You have plenty of invitations back there,” I mutter. “Wasn’t one just sitting on your lap?”
“Jealous, princess?” He strokes my cheekbone with the back of his fingers.
“Screw you.” I slap his hand away. “Tell me where Caden is, and we’ll both leave.”
His eyes narrow on me, his arms falling to his side. Then he pulls back, slightly. “Wait, how did you get here?”
“There are these things called cars. They move on four wheels.”
“Funny, but you know that’s not what I’m asking. Where the fuck are your guards?”
I open my mouth, but he shakes his head with a tsk. “Don’t lie to me, princess. It will take me two minutes to confirm if they are outside. Where are they?”
“Charlton House,” I admit.
“And why haven’t they tracked you here yet?”
“My panic button and phone are on my nightstand,” I confess proudly. “I brought Penny’s.”
“The one who blithers in her sleep? That one’s already on my list.”
“Leave my friends alone,” I snap.
He ignores me, barking on his own agenda. “So, you’re telling me you came here, dressed for a fuck, without your guards, in a town where even the homeless are a threat to you, for a fucking friend?”
“Yes.” I jut my chin out. “Platonic friendships with the opposite sex may be a foreign concept to you, but for those of us who live in civilized society, friendships mean something. Now, take me to Caden.”
“What makes you think I’m going to let you walk in front of other men dressed like that?”
“Fine.” I smile. “I’ll find him myself.” I shove at him and try to walk away.
Mason grabs my hip and pulls me into him.
“Ouch!” I cry out loud as pain pulses through me. His hand jolts away as I clutch my injured hip with both hands and collapse into the wall.
“The fuck?” Mason looks at me with knitted brows.
“You hurt me, dickhead,” I complain.
“I didn’t.”
His fingers grab the hem of my dress. My jaw drops in horror as he starts to pull it up.
“Mason,” I whisper-yell, pulling it down.
But he clasps both my wrists in a tight grip and moves them away.
Cold air pebbles my skin as he lifts my dress to my waist, immediately replaced by heat when his warm fingers brush the bruise, just above the strap of my panties.
I squirm in his hold, but he doesn’t let go.
“Did Powell do this to you?” he hisses, his face slowly twisting in fury.
“What? No!” I all but shout, fighting his grip. He lets me free and I yank my dress down, looking around consciously. Thankfully, we are alone.
“Don’t fuck with me, Eva,” Mason growls in my face. “Who did this to you?”
“Why don’t you ask your friend?” His brows furrow at my unexpected answer.
“Who?” His nostrils flare, eyes feral, hands fisted by his side.
I stare at him speechless.
“Who?” he asks again, louder, making me shake a little.
“Hugo,” I mumble, my voice barely a whisper. “He didn’t actually hurt me. He just—”
My words are left hanging as Mason storms down the hallway like a bull in a ring, before I was done talking.
How has this man not spontaneously combusted by now?
My feet hesitate for a moment before I will them to follow him.
Probably not the best idea, logically speaking, but maybe he’ll lead me to the poker suites.
I struggle to keep up with Mason as he turns the corner and then barges into a room, loud and impossible to ignore. I catch one glimpse of the poker table with chips laid out, then rush to wedge my foot in the door before it clicks shut. But I stay outside, watching through a gap in the door.
“Game’s over,” Mason barks. “Out!”
“What the fuck?” Hugo groans from the head of the table, huffing a breath. “Who lit your fuse now?”
“You!” Mason’s fingers tighten around Hugo’s collar, then he hauls him up and drives him into the wall.
Curses and low whispers ripple through the room, players watching the slow-motion brawl curiously.
Inside, the bouncer rises from his nook.
With his back to me, he moves in a flash and starts herding people toward the exit.
I flatten myself against the outside wall, trying to blend into the plaster as they start to leave.
The dealer needs no motivation. He’s already packed up. First one out of the room. Closely followed by others, including Caden, Chris and Nick. Once all the players are out of sight, I turn around and come face to chest with a slab of muscle blocking my path—the bouncer with the name tag, Bruno.
“You too,” he rumbles.
“Sure,” I reply quickly, as he begins to edge me out. “Can I please settle my friend’s account first? Caden Powell.”
He stares at me as if he’s misheard me. I guess it’s not typical for people to pay up in advance. I don’t know how this works, but I don’t want anything outstanding on Caden’s name. Unlike everyone else in my world, my friend can’t afford a mark on his credit.
A loud, heavy thud makes both our heads jerk toward the back of the room.
“Fuck!” Hugo spits and doubles over, blood spurting out of his nose, while Mason stands towering over him, his fist still cocked. “Not my fucking face, you fucking prick,” Hugo howls.
“Get out before I break a bone.” Mason motions toward the door.
Bruno stands aside as Hugo starts to stalk out, one hand pressed against his face, then pauses mid-step when he sees me, eyes seething, smirk gone.
“Keep walking,” Mason hisses.
Hugo throws me a dirty look but leaves, cursing Mason under his breath. I ignore them both and step into the room.
“Can we settle the payment?” I whisper to Bruno. So, I can get the hell out of here?
He grunts and fetches a digital tablet from his nook. My lips part when I see Caden’s name on the screen. He really did borrow ten thousand pounds. 8 percent interest. Is he crazy? The interest alone will bankrupt him.
“Card?” Bruno asks, typing into his machine.
Sticking close to the door, I dig into my purse to find my cards. But it’s snatched out of my hands, leaving my fingers curled around nothing but air.
“No Etheridge money in Fort,” Mason grumbles, then turns to Bruno. “Get it settled.”
Bruno doesn’t need to be told twice. He nods and swipes something on his screen that removes Caden’s name from the list, then leaves, closing the door behind him.
And just like that, I’m alone with Mason Grant.
Again.
Nice going.
If I didn’t know he would chase me down, I would make a run for it. I should have while I had the chance. I could kill Caden right now.
Mason looms behind me, my purse held hostage, dangling from his fist. A faint hum of his anger still vibrates through the space between us.
At least his eyes have cooled to their usual color, rage spent.
Though his knuckles are split and raw from landing the punch.
Or are they always like that? Looks like practiced damage.
“I don’t need you to cover Caden.” I reach for my purse.
“I’m not. The house is.” He lifts my purse out of my reach, then tosses it on the poker table with a smirk. “It’s not a problem. They’ll make it back the next time he’s here.”
“He’s not coming back. I’m not letting Caden be collateral damage in your sick games.”
“Sick?” He arches an eyebrow, taking a furious step toward me.
“Yes,” I answer, my voice tense, but steady. “Breaking into someone’s room and tying them up while they sleep is sick.”
“You think I have nothing better to do with my nights than watch you sleep?” he scoffs. “Though you’re proving to be quite high maintenance, little dove. Maybe you should cut back on your medication.”
“Thanks for the unsolicited advice, but I’m fine. And I don’t need you to maintain me. I just need you to stay away. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back.” I head toward the door.
“No,” he says, halting my feet. “You are not going out there dressed like that.”
“My clothes are perfectly decent.” I turn to face him. “Especially compared to what your girls are wearing outside.”
“They are not my fucking girls.” He kills the distance between us in two strides. “I don’t care if they dress like sluts or dance around naked. But you… You’re mine. So don’t test me or…”
“Or what?” I challenge, voice shaking a little. “You’ll hurt me?”
His eyes narrow, a slow grin spreading on his face.
“You think if I wanted to hurt you, you’d be standing here in one piece?” His thumb reaches for my face, slowly tracing along my jaw. “You know I won’t, or you wouldn’t dare fuck with me. You only do because you know you can.”
I stare up at him, chin trembling, breathing uneven. How dare he touch me like this? Moments ago, he had another woman on his lap.
“Or maybe I am testing you,” I respond, making his thumb pause.
“To see if you’ll stop whatever madness makes you think I want you.
Maybe I should go out there and see if I can find someone with a hint of a moral compass.
Someone who doesn’t go around threatening and hurting people just because they can.
Yeah, you know what, I think I will go find my Prince Charming tonight. ”
His face twists in a snarl of fury, shattering my determination. My lips quiver, words sticking in my throat.
Mason’s arm flies to Bruno’s nook and knocks the stationery off. Then, he grabs a Sharpie and twists it open with his teeth.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer.
With a tight grip around my wrist, Mason pulls me into him. I hold on to his shoulder for balance as he leans me back and scribbles all over the front of my dress, then turns me toward the glass window.
Fort’s lights dance like fireflies in the background, with my ghostlike reflection staring back.
I gasp as I read the words on my dress.
‘Property of Mason Grant.’