Page 54 of Word to the Wise
None with the three of them together.
And when I switch from images to articles, the top headline has my heart pounding.
Prince’s Fall From Grace: Gabe Prince Found Murdered at Twenty-Five
I click on the article and see that Gabe died a little less than a month after the death of Mason’s sister.
Not death—murder.
I skim as fast as I can, hoping this isn’t what Sage was referring to when he implied Mason’s keeping secrets. But then I hit the bottom of the article and there’s no denying it.
The night Gabe was killed, he was out at a club with Mason. Gabe started not feeling well, so he left early, but he was attacked on the way home. When Gabe regained consciousness in the hospital, he told authorities he wanted immunity for something surrounding Sienna’s death, but then he succumbed to his injuries before he could talk.
Mason was questioned since he had been with Gabe that night, but they could never tie the two. And Gabe’s killer was never found.
The DNA evidence was corrupted, and the investigation was buried at that.
My hands tremble as I read the article again and again, finally closing my laptop and staring at the tile wall in the kitchen once I do.
I grew up around bikers—murderers. Men who go to great lengths to protect things they care about, but after everything that happened with Carter, can I accept that Mason might be just like them?
Violent. Aggressive.
If he did kill Gabe because of something related to his sister, he might have had a reason. But does that matter?
I’m familiar with the violence my brother hides, but Mason felt different. I wanted to believe he broke the mold. I’ve been held by hands that hurt, and I can’t handle that again.
I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at an empty wall when a key slips into the lock on the front door, dragging me out of my thoughts. But I push my laptop away and fold my hands in my lap, trying to steady my breathing when Mason walks in.
His hoodie hides his hair, and it’s damp from where it must be raining.
“Hey.” He spots me sitting at the counter and nods.
“Hi.”
I watch him circle the room like it’s a rubber band tugging. Every step threatens to snap reality back into this alternate world he and I have been living in.
Mason slips off his sweatshirt, and my back is tense as I wait for this all to snap. I watch him make his way through the apartment, and a million questions are on the tip of my tongue. But once I ask them, there’s no going back.
Facing Mason’s secrets feels like me facing my feelings for him. If this was simply friendship, it wouldn’t matter. I was born and raised in violence. I’ve associated with bikers my whole life.
People end up dead. Sometimes there’s a good reason, and other times there isn’t.
It’s what those men do.
But with Mason, it’s different. He’s been caring and comforting. He’s been my safety at a time when it hurt to get through the day. When it hurts to smile or to be touched. If he’s not the man I’ve come to trust, I’m going to have to come to terms with that, whether I’m ready or not.
There’s no avoiding this either. Mason pauses on the opposite side of the kitchen island, and his blue eyes burn like the hot pit of a fire.
It’s time for us both to face our demons and to find out if we can survive them.
Mason glances down at my laptop, and I know he senses it. He’s observant. He sees everything I don’t want him to.
“Working?” He looks back up at me.
I nod, even if it’s only partly true.
Tonight’s research wasn’t about Zane Hotels. It wasn’t even about Carter. This is about the man standing in front of me.
