Chapter 17 Eva #2
A sharp bite of cheap, stale beer mixed with bitter florals hits my nose. But the scent isn’t the worst part. There are some fluffy pink handcuffs and a long string of condoms under the windscreen, which look like they were recently used.
“Fucking Pike,” Mason groans, opening the windows, letting the cool autumn air flush out the pungent smell. Sweeping his arm, he gathers the unsavory items in front of me and chucks them on the back seat.
“This is Hugo Pike’s car?” I ask, slightly relieved. I didn’t recognize it in the dark.
“Yeah.” Mason makes a sick face and turns the key. “Why?”
“He gave you his car? Didn’t you just punch him in the face?”
“What’s your point?” he asks with knitted brows.
That you are both psychos?
“Nothing.” I shrug and look away.
We drive in silence as I stare out the window, trying to focus on the full moon and fervently ignoring my company. But any attempts to spurn his presence shred with each movement he makes.
Every inch of Mason is brutally masculine.
Whether it’s the way he drives with one hand, spinning the wheel with a single touch, or the way he smokes a cigarette with one tattooed arm hanging out of his open window, or the way his muscular frame radiates heat, making me sweat and drool in my panties.
I cross my legs and arms like a shield and keep up the agonizing silence.
Ten minutes in, his phone beeps. He checks his messages, barely looking at the road. Granted, it’s quiet, only one car ahead of us. Still, we could hit a pole or something.
“That’s one way to kill us.” I let out a sigh when he still doesn’t look up.
He briefly glances at the road, throwing me a look, then types a quick message and flicks the indicator, signaling the left turn, then spins the wheel.
I brace myself against the window. Not because the turn was harsh—I barely felt it—but because he’s now blasting down a narrow countryside lane. We are heading out of the center of Fort, in the opposite direction to Charlton House.
“What are you doing?” I ask, unable to hide the panic in my voice.
“Since you took up my entire evening being a brat, now I have to go put out a fire,” he says with biting frustration. “I don’t have time to drop you off.”
“Then drop me here. It’s not far. I’ll walk.”
His head snaps to me, back to murder face.
“I’m not dropping you off in an alley like some disposable,” he barks. “Nor am I going to make it back in time to stop your midnight mischiefs. You’re coming with me.”
I just gape at him, my mouth half open.
“So, you’re kidnapping me?”
“Yes.”
“I need to go home, Mason. Jack will find out I’m gone,” I try to reason. Though Jack is the least of my problems at this moment.
“Good.” He nods. “Maybe that will make you think twice before you put yourself at risk for a fucking friend again.”
“I’m learning that lesson right now,” I spit.
“Watch it,” he warns. “Unless you are up for round two.”
His fingers brush my thigh. I shove them away, but he grabs my hand in his and places it on his lap.
“Let me go.”
“I might, if you behave.”
Argh. Why does he always have to be so infuriating?
“How long is this going to take?” I ask, guessing the answer will be disappointing.
“It takes as long as it takes,” he replies, exhaling smoke.
“Helpful, thanks,” I mutter and take Penny’s phone from my clutch one-handed, my right still locked in his grip.
I type a quick message to give Thea a heads-up, telling her I’m with Caden tonight.
Penny’s going to have my head. I promised her I would only separate her from her precious phone for two hours.
She’s probably having a panic attack and breathing into a brown bag right now.
“Is that a common occurrence?” Mason asks. I look up to see him reading my texts, unapologetically. Of course. That’s not rude or anything. “How many nights have you spent with Powell?”
I ignore his rhetorical question since he knows the only one I spend my nights with is him, then I ask the question that’s been bothering me.
“Did you ask Hugo to befriend Caden?”
He grins like a dick, keeping his eyes on the road.
“It’s not funny,” I drawl. “I don’t like Hugo with Caden.”
“And I don’t like Powell with you. We don’t always get what we want, do we?”
“Can’t you take it easy on him? He is my oldest friend.”
“He’s breathing, isn’t he? How much easier do you want me to take it?”
“Easier than that,” I whine.
“Then stop touching him,” he snaps.
I roll my eyes and give up. He’s impossible.
I stare out the windscreen as Mason drives down the countryside road, holding my hand hostage, at ninety miles an hour.
Bushes whip past on both sides, scraping the black metal sides of the car like ghostly fingers clawing at us.
My pulse races. I try to count my breaths, inhaling through my nose and exhaling out of my mouth while my eyes sting—frozen on the dark road ahead.
My nails dig into my palm until it hurts. Until they break the skin and something warm and wet coats them.
My heartbeat thunders, ringing in my ears, getting louder and louder.
“Dad, just let me drive already.” Daniel’s voice breaks through my consciousness.
“Mum…” I croak, my head sliding from the window where I’d been drifting off. I stomp on Dan’s foot.
“Dan, let Eva sleep, please,” Mum scolds.
“She’d be sleeping at home if Dad wasn’t taking us on another scenic detour through England,” Daniel mutters, retaliating with a kick to my shin.
“I know where I'm going,” Dad insists.
“Yeah? Do you? Because we're twenty miles off the A1.”
“What?” I shoot upright, blinking the fog of sleep away. “Dad, please tell me you're using the sat nav?”
“Of course he fucking isn’t,” Daniel huffs.
“Language.” Mum and Dad look over their shoulders.
“Richard.” Mum’s voice drops as she leans toward Dad. “Maybe it's time to turn back. It clearly isn't here.”
“What isn’t here?” Dan and I echo.
“Please tell me we are not looking for another fucking broken abbey.”
“Hell no.” I shake my head. “I am not going on another history tour, Dad. You’ll never find anything in the dark anyway.”
“Both of you, enough!” Dad barks, then peers through his window, slowing down.
My vision’s still bleary, but I catch him leaning toward some dark path on the roadside. A tall farmstead stands at a distance.
Then out of nowhere—
Headlights burst near us, tearing at my pupils, like looking at the eclipse with naked eyes. A scream rips from me, the sound muffled against the screeching tires, colliding metal, and shattering glass.