Chapter 10
Evan
“ I t’s been a while,” Mason says as I sit down at the booth in the back of the restaurant.
“I saw you just a few weeks ago,” I point out to him.
“Not what I meant,” he says, correcting me. “It’s been a while since the two of us have been up to no good.”
That comment pulls my lips up into an asymmetric smile and he follows suit with a wicked grin.
“And how do you know that’s what I’m here for?
” I used to buy some good shit through Mason and vice versa.
I came from the poor part of town, and he was from the rich.
The only real difference that makes is which drugs you’re doing. Pot or snow.
And if you want a taste of the other, all you need to do is make friends with the right people.
Long story short, that’s how I met Mason and as I moved into his circle, he made a spot for me when I needed one.
When he got into trouble, I got him out.
It was years ago, but a pact like that never dies.
Mason shrugs at my question. “I’m going to take a guess and say that whatever you want from me, it’s something I could go to jail for.”
I huff a sarcastic laugh and toss my phone down on the white tablecloth, then glance around casually to make sure I don’t recognize anyone. The place is mostly empty, with only a few guys at the bar and a couple in the corner of the diner.
“Are we good if that’s the case?” I ask him.
“We’re good,” Mason answers. “I have to say, considering what’s going on, I’m intrigued.”
“Intrigued is a word for it, I guess.”
The waitress saunters over with a beer, setting it down with a smile and I thank her, although I didn’t order it.
“I got you an IPA, seasonal.”
“Thanks, man,” I tell him gratefully, but I don’t touch the tall glass sitting right in front of me. I take off my coat and hang it over the unused chair to my left as the waitress pulls out her notepad and a pen. She’s a skinny little thing, which makes her look even younger than she probably is.
“Welcome to Murray’s,” she says evenly. Her top’s unbuttoned a little too much and the way a blush colors her cheeks as she looks at us makes what she’s thinking more than obvious.
“Can I get you guys anything?” She bites down on her lip and Mason raises a brow at me.
“Not me,” I tell him and lean back in my seat, not looking back at the broad and risking leading her on.
He waves her off politely. “We’ll just grab the drinks from the bar,” he tells her and her smile falls. She seems to falter, and she clears her throat.
“Sure, if you need anything …” she says and shrugs, “just let me know.”
“So, how you been?” I ask him as the pretty little blonde walks off.
“Better now,” he tells me.
“I’m sorry to hear about your father.”
He readjusts in his seat, making it groan, and looks away as he takes a long swig of his beer.
“I know it’s got to suck either way.” I choose my words carefully.
Word is Mason killed him. Shot him dead.
Still, it’s his father and I don’t know for a fact that Mason really wanted him gone.
There was tension between them and rumors they were at odds, but I don’t have a firm grasp on the truth when it comes to that situation.
“Yeah,” he says without looking me in the eyes. “Thanks, but let’s cut the small talk. It’s not often I get a call from you.”
I nod and crack my knuckles one by one with my thumb as I look out the window, scanning the streets. “I think I need to hire someone,” I tell him.
“You’re going to need to be a little more specific than that,” he replies.
“There’s a guy,” I say then pause and lean in closer, resting my elbow on the table and moving my hand so that my fingers cover my mouth as I talk. Just in case someone’s watching and trying to lip-read.
“He tried to kill me.” I blurt out my theory. “Tony wasn’t supposed to die. It was meant for me.”
“You’re still doing coke?” he asks as he eyes me then takes a drink from his glass.
“Not in years, but he didn’t know that. It would hurt my reputation if the clients thought I was clean, you know?”
“That’s what I thought. I was just asking ’cause that means whoever went for you doesn’t really know you.”
“I think it’s my boss.”
“Wouldn’t he know?” he questions and for a moment a tinge of insecurity washes over me.
“He never really asked. He doesn’t ask any questions so long as the clients are happy.”
“All right.” He tilts his head slightly and lowers his voice. “So, why does he want you dead?” Mason asks.
“It was years ago,” I start to tell him and feel sick to my stomach. “I fucked his wife. Before I married Kat.”
Mason’s eyes assess me as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m lying.
“I’ve never cheated on her,” I say, talking louder than I should and in response to my raised voice, Mason looks to his right.
I lick my lips and calm my racing heart.
“He wants to scare her, so he went after me to prove what he could do to her. That no one’s safe from him.”
“But you gave Tony the blow?”
I nod my head once, the memory of his dead eyes looking through me flashing in front of me and sending a chill down my spine. “With the stuff James left in the room for me.”
“So, your boss, James? You want him dead? You want to prove he did it, frame him, what do you want?”
“You have a fucking menu?” I joke with him to lessen the tension in my body.
An asymmetrical grin forms on his face.
“I don’t do anything. I’m not involved in any of the process.”
My body feels heavier with his words.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t still have connections,” he adds and I nod. “So, for a friend, what is it that you want?”
“Three things,” I tell him. “First, your lawyer.”
“That’s a given. He’s already on retainer in case they take you in again.”
“Second, someone to watch Kat. I need her safe.”
“Is he after her?”
“He might know that I know, and I can’t risk her safety.” He merely nods and I add, “I can’t lose her. I’ll fucking lose it, man.”
“The safest place for her is distance. Well, anywhere fucking away from you.”
“I know … I know.”
“Good thing you’re separated, huh?”
“She tell Jules that?” I ask him as dread races through my blood. Before I can tell him we’re not, and that there’s no way I’m leaving her, he laughs at me.
“Jules tells me everything. I know the papers got it wrong.”
“I’m not leaving her; I’m just protecting her. There’s a difference.”
“If you want the world to think you’re broken up,” he says, “then you need to treat her like you are.”
“I don’t know if I can treat her like that. She’s pregnant.”
“I heard.” He lifts his beer in a mock cheers. “Congrats on that, man … but doesn’t that make it even more important not to risk anything happening to her?”
“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do.” My words are bitter and my heart sinks. “How long’s it going to take?” I ask him to get back to the point.
“To dig up dirt, plant evidence, figure out how to kill the guy … it could be a while.”
“I don’t have a while,” I bite back. “Every day is a day I have to put her through this.”
“There are worse things you could do.”
“I can’t lose her,” I tell him and he nods in understanding.
“I’ll watch her myself,” he offers and a small sense of peace relaxes me, but only a fraction of the way.
I rub my eyes with the back of my hand and finally pick up the beer on the table.
“If anything happens to her …”
“Nothing’s going to happen to her,” he reassures me before asking, “What’s the third thing?”
I look him in the eye and tell him, “I want him to go to jail for what he did. Whether you get real evidence or have to create some. And if that’s not possible, I want James Lapour dead.”