Chapter 33
MASON
“Are you leaving?” Hugo trails after us as I lead Eva toward James’s car.
“If I stay any longer, Ma will be looking for the shotgun again.” I snort. Or I might, if my old man tries to take away what’s mine so he can clean up his fucked-up mess.
“Stay for one drink.” Kane appears behind Hugo, drifting into the group quietly with a pointed stare.
My gaze moves between the two of them, smelling the potent scent of trouble radiating off them in thick waves.
“I’d better get her back before she steals the dog.” I’m not interested in whatever mess they have waiting for me. Eva rolls her blues, which have a new shine today. This girl has done the impossible. She’s made me jealous of a bloody dog.
“I’ll take her back,” James offers.
Great, they are all fucking in on it. But I’m in no mood. I hit my limit for bullshit an hour ago.
“Stay,” Eva murmurs, her voice pleading as she strokes my bicep with her index finger. “I have a few calls to make, anyway.”
Calls—which is code for she needs to FaceTime her godmother or Elton. Which is code for I’m not allowed in my own bedroom.
“Maybe it’s an intervention,” she whispers in an attempt to convince me, slightly tipsy from all the wine Ma made her drink. She feels guilty about getting these two fuckers kicked out. Like I give a fuck.
“The fuck do I need an intervention for, princess?” I snort.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Psychosis, anger management, chain smoking. Take your pick.”
“You have a problem with me smoking now?”
“Only because those cigarettes sit on your lips more than I do,” she whispers so low, her voice is barely audible. Then she bites her lip, blushing like a rose, yet determined to get back at me for what I said at lunch.
I pull her in, her lips an inch away from mine. “Behave, or you won’t be able to sit at all, little dove.”
She giggles, cheeks burning, and rises on her tiptoes to kiss me. “I’ll be waiting for my punishment,” she teases, then walks away, swaying her hips. James follows her to his Range Rover, slipping his phone into his pocket when he catches my glare before driving her away.
I turn to Kane and Hugo’s grim faces. “This better be fucking good.”
We head to my old bedroom, upstairs, which is still intact, just as I left it four years ago. Hugo plops himself on the bed, lying on his side, propped on an elbow, while Kane leans against the door, blocking the exit.
Was she right? Is this a fucking intervention?
Fuck them, if it is. I light a cigarette and let Kane, the purist, breathe in the poison.
That will make this go faster. It feels awfully similar to that night in London, outside the police station, when Berkeley ruined my fucking life.
I have been walking around with a ticking time bomb strapped to my chest ever since.
What damage does he plan to curse me with today?
“One of you, talk,” I mutter when no one speaks.
“It’s time, Mase,” Kane responds.
“Talk straight, fucker. I’m not in the mood for your riddles.”
“Calm the fuck down and listen.” Hugo gestures.
The fuck? Hugo is on Kane’s side now? The fuck did I miss?
My eyes snap to Kane, an eyebrow raised in question.
“Reginald is planning on making a deal with Daniel Etheridge. He’s going to take the fall.”
“Has he lost his fucking mind?” I bark. “He’ll take everyone down with him.”
“There isn’t much choice here.” Kane lifts a shoulder. “Etheridge is closing in every day. The fucker is relentless. It’s a matter of time until Eva finds out. And then this will all be for nothing. You are going to cost us everything because you can’t let that fucking girl go.”
“Get fucked. I’m not giving her up just because you and your father can’t keep your house in order. So, unless you have any other ideas…”
“We do.” Hugo smirks.
“We assumed that’s what you would say.” Kane takes a guarded step closer and places his hands in his pockets. “So, we have another suggestion on how to stop Daniel Etheridge.”
“I’m all ears.” I blow the smoke out.
“He’ll stop if he thinks his sister is in danger.”
“Her guard is away,” Hugo grins like the devious prick he is. “Perfect timing. Talk to your grandfather and take her to Sicily.”
“The fuck are you two talking about? There is no way she’ll come.”
“She’s going to run the second she finds out, mate.” Hugo flings his arm wide. “What are you going to do then?”
I stare between the two of them, the cigarette hanging off my fingers, ashes falling to the windowsill.
“Think fast, Mase,” Hugo urges. “Unless my old man can make him budge, Reginald is making the call tomorrow.”
I don’t go back to The Barrel. Instead, I head for a long ride, tracing the border of Fort for hours. I still see her bloodied face in the rearview mirror sometimes. Usually, when I’m away from her for too long. But I need a beat tonight. A pause.
I come to a halt at the hilltop and dismount, staring at the Fort lights glimmering below as the clock ticks by. The weight on my chest feels heavier than ever. It grows every day, but tonight, it feels like it will crush me.
Eva fell into my arms like a broken bird and slowly chipped her way into me. As fierce as hunger, as ruthless as need. Even as I stand here, I can feel her, like a splinter wedged under my skin. She lives inside me. Carved into bone. I can’t cut her out any more than I can rip out my lungs.
There is nothing I won’t do for that girl.
But can I do this?
Give my everything, take everything from her, just so I can keep her by my side?
I’ve been taking her choices away since the day I met her. And she lets me. But this one will break her heart. Possibly us. For good.
The wind whistles, slapping against my face. A blast of air powerful enough to knock down even the strongest. It was right here when that metal bird dropped from the sky and snatched her out of my arms.
Too strong to challenge. Too powerful to stop.
Never again.
My thumb hesitates for a moment, hovering over the name that will always accept my call before I tap the screen.
“Mason, tesoro mio,” Mattia Morelli answers on the third ring.
“Nannu,” I respond. “I need a favor.”
It takes me all night to set the pieces in motion. But I only return once I make sure we are ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Any longer and she’ll slip through my fingers.
My chest weighs a ton when I shove open the metal door at five in the morning, slowly dragging my feet up the stairs. James sits outside my bedroom, a bottle of beer and his phone in his hand, which may as well be a part of his body at this point.
“She alright?” I ask. He nods, rising to his feet. “Thanks, mate, get some sleep.”
James trudges down the stairs while my hand hesitates on the doorknob.
The fuck am I going tell her?
Doesn’t matter. No words will work.
She’ll make this as difficult as possible.
The door opens to pitch darkness, the only sound is her heavy breaths. My phone beeps, but I don’t check. I know it’s Kane or Hugo, but I’m not ready for them yet. I have one hour until I have to take her away. And I need each of those sixty minutes alone with her.
Throwing my phone on the nightstand and my jacket at the foot of the bed, I slide in beside her, wrapping her in my arms from behind and pulling her into me. She is still wearing the blue dress. Guess she fell asleep waiting for me.
My hands wander down her waist, all the way to her legs, memorizing every inch of her. Who knows if she’ll let me touch her tomorrow? If she’ll even look at me or let me breathe her air.
I kiss the length of her neck, and she purrs awake, her fingers instantly reaching for my belt.
Fuck. Will she ever want me like this again?
“You’re late,” she whispers, her voice slightly cracking. Has she…? Reflexively, my hand flies to her forearm, searching for abrasions. “I’m fine.” She fumbles with my belt until she pries it open and digs into my pants.
“Did you miss me?” I murmur as she frees my hardening cock.
I reach underneath her dress and slide her panties down. My erection knocks at her opening in an instant. Not her wet pussy, the virgin hole I haven’t claimed yet. Every time I try, she chickens out, but tonight, I’m shattering every last boundary between us.
“Let me have all of you, princess,” I whisper in her hair. “One time.”
She moans into the pillow and presses her arse into me. So willing, agreeable, mine.
“Fuck,” I grunt. My cock slides down to her wet pussy and thrusts inside.
“Wha—?” Eva’s word dies in her mouth, her back arching. “I meant…”
“You will take me in your arse, little dove,” I groan, thrusting in and out of her, “But first you will make me the lube I’ll need not to hurt you.”
She rasps a moan as I lift her leg and drive into her cunt. My fucking cunt. The woman turns me into an insatiable animal who wants to feast on her until she’s writhing against me and screaming my name. My desire for her makes me unhinged, ravenous, possessed.
Eva moans as I fuck her, brushing against her sweet spot, beckoning her to come.
Her fingers tighten around the pillow, her belly contracting beneath my hand as I make her pussy weep.
She breaks apart around my cock, moaning my name—my favorite sound in the world.
I pull out of her, my dick slathered in her pussy’s tears.
“That’s my girl,” I murmur. “Look how well you lubed my cock.”
Her nails dig into my arm at the sight. She clutches tight when I spit on her back hole and place my tip against it.
“Mase,” she cries when I slide my crown inside.
“I know, princess.” I lift her head, watching her beautiful face bathed in the faint moonlight. “You can do this. Take me in, little dove.” I push in another inch.
And she does. She draws deep breaths and relaxes, letting me in, taking my cock inch by inch, until I’m sheathed inside her.
“Fuck,” I grunt at the sensation as she whimpers and adjusts, stretching to fit around my cock.
Just like her pussy and mouth that she lets me fuck as I please, her arse is also mine now. Taken. Claimed. Owned. She clenches around me, pulling me in, turning me into the monster who craves her ruin more than my own salvation.
With my grip in her hair, I mount her. I keep my weight on my knees, as I drive in and out, trying not to go too fast, failing to restrain when she cries my name.
My need to own this woman never subsides, no matter how much of her I take, no matter how much she lets me, I can never get enough of her.
An urge that only flares more intensely with every sound she makes.
Craving more of her voice, I fuck her faster, harder, deeper, burying my cock inside her with every thrust.
My phone starts beeping on the nightstand—the only light in the room.
“Do you have to take that?” She gasps.
I snort a dark laugh. “Not even a man coming at me with a knife could pull my attention from you when you are taking my cock, little dove.”
“Good,” she moans, rocking back into me. I fucking love when she does that.
“Keep doing that,” I demand.
She grounds her knees and shoves back into me, letting me savour the sight of my cock sliding in and out of her arse, while her pussy drips.
“Don’t stop,” I murmur and reach for her clit, twisting it between my fingers.
She whimpers but rocks her arse, faster. Our moans and groans sync in an erotic song as she strangles my cock, begging me to fill her perfect hole, driving me fucking delirious.
The power Eva has over me is quiet, but absolute. She bends me to her will without knowing, without uttering a word. The kind of power that makes surrender feel like a choice, but isn’t.
“Eyes on me.” I pull her head to my chest, raking the waves of her long hair back. Her face turns to meet my eyes. One glance—that blue shade of sin—and I’m falling, being dragged down to the abyss of her.
My balls stiffen, then I flood deep inside her, holding her face in one hand.
She winces when I pull out and land on my back, breathing heavily, starving for air. The exposed oak beams in the ceiling blur in my vision.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Eva,” I breathe into my palms, dragging my hands down my face. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“That depends,” she croaks. Her voice hits me like a hammer. “Did you kill my parents?”
I jolt up, and my chest seizes.
Eva stands at the foot of the bed.
My jacket crumpled at her feet.
Her hand extends toward me, steady as a rock, holding my gun.
Frozen, I stare at her, like a man waiting for his end, unable to move an inch. Not because of the weapon in her hands, because her face is fractured into a million pieces.
Without a word, she turns her phone to me. A photo on the screen: the Berkeley family, in front of their farmhouse in Northumberland.
The place that birthed all the horrors she carries.
Where she was rammed off the road, almost to her death.
Where her parents were killed.
And just like that, the damned timer wired to my chest shuts up.
No more ticking. No more waiting.
My time’s up.
Like a pest, my phone continues to vibrate beside me. And for the first time, I hear it.
“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone?” Kane barks as soon as pick up the phone. “Do not go back to The Barrel. You hear me? She knows! Dante saw her take a photo—”
“I know,” I cut him off, my own voice unrecognizable. “She has a gun to my face.”
“I’m on my way.” I hear his Jeep’s engine growl in protest.
“What’s the point?” I chuckle. “I lost her already.”