Chapter 50
FIFTY
MASE
The moment we step out of the SUV, a man opens the downstairs entrance and heads toward us. He puts his hand in his jacket, but before he has a chance to make another move, Owen pops a bullet in his head.
“Like that, is it?” I smirk at him.
“Kill on sight.” The firmness of his words sends a ripple of anxiety through me, another confirmation of the severe danger my family is in.
Owen opens the downstairs door and steps inside, and I follow with my Glock in hand and ready to go.
There’re six flights of stairs ahead of us, and Owen signals for me to cover him as he quietly heads up the staircase.
The moment he is halfway up the first flight, a shadow looms on the flight above him.
Without a second thought, I fire my weapon, and he tumbles down the stairs, the sound causing a barrage of footsteps from above us.
Owen nods at me, and we surge up the stairs, and I’m only too grateful for my gym sessions, every single one of them.
Bullets are fired in all directions, and when Owen jolts back against the wall with his T-shirt soaked in blood, I mentally kick myself for not being quick enough to respond against the assailant, but manage to get a bullet in him before he takes advantage of Owen’s predicament.
“You okay?” I ask, eyeing his bloody shoulder.
His lip twitches. “Go get your girl. I’m right behind you.
” He tips his head toward the stairs, and I don’t have to be told twice.
Now it’s him having my back as I stride up the stairs two at a time.
My heart pounds harder with each step I take, knowing I’m getting closer to Summer but potentially putting her more in danger.
Hugh and his scumbags are no doubt aware of our presence by now.
I duck and deliver a bullet to the bastard’s neck at the top of the stairs, then jump out of the way as he rolls headfirst down them like a sack of potatoes.
My chest heaves, and I scowl at the door in front of me, but Owen’s hand on my chest makes me pause. He holds up his hand with his palm spread out and counts down on his fingers.
Five.
My rapid breaths fill the smoke-filled space.
Four.
I lick my lips, praying Summer and my babies are unharmed.
Three.
Just the thought of someone touching her sends a wild fury through me.
Two.
Every cell comes alive with the need for retribution.
One.
I kick the door in and aim my gun.
Hugh’s face falls. One hand is full of money, and I quickly realize he’s currently not a threat. I step inside and spin on my sneakers when I witness some punk getting up close and very fucking personal with my girl.
The red haze I’ve been fighting to keep in check is back at full capacity, and I quickly pop two bullets in the back of both his kneecaps, causing him to drop to the floor.
I rush forward and take Summer’s tear-streaked face in the palms of my hands, and just like that, my fury is heightened.
I’m going to make these fuckers pay. Every fucking inch of them will pay in blood.
I’m vaguely aware that Owen is now in the room, apprehending Hugh as I scan my beautiful girl for signs of injury, and I’m relieved not to find anything obvious.
“Ma-Mase. I need to tell you something.”
I shake my head. “Not now, Sum. We need to get you out of here.” When I glance over my shoulder, Owen is wrapping cable ties around Hugh’s wrists.
“Pl-please.” Her sweetness has always been my weakness, and I find myself nodding. “They were blackmailing me.”
I choke on a sardonic laugh; does she really think I wasn’t aware by now?
She shakes her head. “I drugged him.”
I still, and I’m pretty damn sure Owen has too. My eyes bounce over her face. “I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip wobbles, then she shakes her blonde locks. “I’m not sorry he’s dead. I’m sorry if I hurt you in the process.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “What the hell are you talking about, Summer?”
She whimpers, and I stroke her arms in a soothing motion.
“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart.”
Her entire body rises as if she’s about to have a panic attack, and my first thoughts are the babies need checked over ASAP.
“I drugged your father. Hugh had the evidence on a flash drive; he was blackmailing me for the money. He and him”—she points to the scum on the floor—“they set the app up so I could get the money, the rest I was using for college. I’m sorry.”
My eyebrows shoot up, and I stare at her dumbfounded.
“I drugged him because he was horrible, Mase. H-He made my life miserable… He was going to sell me.” She’s becoming hysterical, and as her words settle inside me, I become acutely aware that my girl has sure as shit been harboring a secret. A big fucking secret.
From the corner of my eye, I watch Owen smirk in my direction with a look that says You’ve got your hands full there.
And yet something akin to pride expands in my chest. There’s not a damn doubt in my mind that my father deserved to die.
He was a sadistic prick, who I hated, but instead of tackling him head-on, I ran, creating my own life but never fully dealing with him.
His cruelty led Summer to take matters into her own hands.
The thoughts of what she could’ve been exposed to turn my stomach, and I’m only thankful she had the courage to do it.
“They were going to—” I can’t let her say the words. I know what they were going to do: sell her to Gareth for him to use and dispose of her.
My lips smash against hers. My brave, beautiful girl.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see another figure emerge from another room, Gareth. “She was meant to be mine!” he roars, and I turn just in time to cover her as he releases a shower of bullets in our direction; each one causes my body to jolt.
One.
The fear flashes on her face.
Two.
My muscles tense to take the hits as pain hits me.
Three.
As I suck in a sharp breath, I realize something profound.
Four.
I want to marry her.
Five.
I never got to tell her I love her.
She opens her mouth to scream, and a tear slips down her beautiful face as it twists in tortured silence.