Текст книги "Run"

Автор книги: Holly Hood

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

JULY 5

TH

WHEN I THOUGHT BACK on my childhood, I knew it was the furthest thing from having a childhood—I had no favorite toys or tv shows, no trips to the local Dairy Queen for an ice cream cone, and I’d never been to a zoo.

I had no grandparents that kept me on the weekends or even for just a day. I had two uncles. Uncle Ronnie, aka “Snake,” was in his mid-twenties and he’d spent the majority of his youth in jail. Uncle Ronnie was a stunningly handsome man with blond hair and light blue eyes.

Then there was Uncle Piper—yes, that was his name. He was a truck driver with the rage of a rabid bull. He was finally taken down in a violent standoff with the police. Road rage won out in the end for Uncle Piper. He was serving twenty years in prison in South Carolina.

A small part of me liked Uncle Piper. He always gave me attention and talked to me; he seemed interested in knowing about me. It was during his visits that I learned Uncle Piper loved hot rods. His dream was to own every one he drooled over in those car magazines he always bought.

He was tall as an oak tree and strong. I had never seen–nor have I since then–muscles like his. I’ve often compared my awkward movements to those of Uncle Piper. He had green eyes and the darkest set of eyelashes. Uncle Piper was the oldest and he had graying, sandy blond hair.

He had enormous hands that made me feel so tiny in comparison and he always wore black boots—always. I sometimes wished he were my dad. On one of his visits, he told my mother she was the most awful person he’d ever met. I found a sick satisfaction in that—someone had finally told her the truth.

Uncle Ronnie had one son, Benny, born to an Asian woman he’d met in Vegas. She moved in with him and moved out again just as fast. Benny was around my age. I met him once¸ but never saw him again.

Uncle Piper had two daughters: Tiger Jade and Maxton. They were beautiful, fair-skinned girls with a sprinkle of freckles across their cheeks.

Maxton and Tiger came around some when I was younger. They took me out for ice cream a couple times. Yeah, they were good people.

Aunt Wanda was the only one in the family who never wanted kids. She’d had too many abortions to count, as well as several miscarriages. She wasn’t the motherly type anyway.

Remembering where I came from reminded me where I was. As I sat on the edge of the bed watching Mason, I wondered if he was the one person I could count on. Maybe he was everything that was good and right. Maybe he was what it felt like to feel wanted and needed. To feel relied on.

I wasn’t sure I knew what love was, but maybe it was whatever I wanted it to be.

“Renee’s a nice girl. She seems nice anyway,” I offered with a shrug.

Mason pulled his shirt over his head and shook his hair back in place. He stared at me, obviously not understanding what I meant.

“I don’t know. I never pegged her for a druggie though,” Mason said.

“She’s really pretty, too,” I said. I watched him carefully, gauging his reaction. Nothing.

“She’s okay. I don’t like short hair on girls.” He shrugged.

I nervously chewed on my thumbnail. It was hard to come out and ask what I wanted to know.

“Do you think you’ll see her again while we are here?” I looked at the floor, embarrassed. My heart was racing as I waited for his answer.

“Uh, I don’t think she’s interested in seeing me after I almost killed Shifty,” Mason chuckled at the thought of it.

“What if she wanted to see you again?” I carefully worked my shoes on my feet. I took extra-long tying them. I knew Mason was staring at me as if I were crazy for asking so many dumb questions. He knew me, and when I asked a lot of questions, I wasn’t to be ignored.

“You’re mad at me for sleeping with her,” he said, in more a statement than a question. He sat down on the bed next to me and rubbed his forehead.

“I didn’t say that, I just…” I trailed off, out of words.

“Kendall, I’m an idiot. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I didn’t know what I was doing.” Mason sighed and looked over at me. I looked away and fiddled with my shoelace.

“It’s hard to figure these things out. I can’t do anything when you won’t let me in.” Silence.

“Was it the same as when we have sex?” I asked. I tugged at my hair. I couldn’t look away from him as he stumbled for the right words.

“I don’t know, Kendall. I was high.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, even if I weren’t high, it would have been some stupid girl.” He seemed cagey, almost agitated. I knew I’d put him on the spot.

“Okay, Mason,” I said. But it wasn’t okay at all. I wanted to know more. I wanted to hear more. I wanted to know everything he was thinking.

We made our way outside. The hallway was empty. The bright lights severely contrasted my mood. Mason pulled the door shut and shoved the key card in his front pocket.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to ask me, Kendall,” he said.

I crossed my arms as we made it down the hallway. My skin felt itchy the day after my encounter with those nasty drugs.

“I don’t know either. I guess I just wanted an answer.” I snapped the rubber band on my wrist, the pain a distraction from my aching mind.

“An answer to what? Maybe if I knew the question, I could answer.”

Payton opened her hotel room door as we passed by. Her hair was wet. She looked straight at Mason. I could see it in her eye she had something important to say.

“What?” Mason asked, his bad attitude apparent.

“I need a favor from you,” she said calmly.

I thought it odd she even acknowledged me with a glance. Most of the time she acted like I didn’t exist.

Payton motioned us into her room and shut the door before she said anything more. Mason plopped down on her bed. I remained standing. I didn’t want to tread on Payton’s personal space. We waited patiently to hear what she wanted from us.

When Payton finally spoke, she said, “There’s this man who has something for me. I just need you to pick it up,” she said.

I bit my tongue. Why did it have to be Mason? Why did she want him taking off for who knows what? Payton had barely stepped a toe out of her room since we’d gotten to Virginia.

Mason stretched, his arms rising above his head. He seemed to be pondering what Payton had just said. Payton lit a cigarette and leaned against the dresser. Most of the time, Payton relied on her looks and wit to get what she wanted. I wasn’t too sure her charms worked on Mason.

“What’s wrong with you going?” Mason asked, staring her down.

“You and Kendall are always out and about. I thought it wasn’t a big deal,” she said, still calm. She flicked her ashes into a cup and blew out a large cloud of smoke.

“Kendall, you don’t mind, do you?” she asked me, searching my face expectantly.

Something about her request didn’t feel right. I wanted to tell Mason to forget it, but I didn’t.

“No, I don’t care. We were just going to get something to eat,” I said, quickly looking away.

Mason stood up and took the cigarette from her. He held it in one hand, raking his other hand through his hair. Payton seemed to back off a bit.

Mason took a long drag on the cigarette; the red ember ate away at it.

“Write down the address, Mom. I’d hate to think it’s anything other than what you’re saying it is,” Mason said, smoke escaping as he spoke.

Payton turned away and grabbed the brush off the dresser and began brushing her hair. I watched her expression in the mirror to see if I detected anything out of the ordinary. Ordinary for Payton was nervousness and agitation.

She spun back around.

“Do it, don’t do it, I don’t give a shit. Is that what you want me to say, Mason?” she asked. She stopped brushing her hair and glared at him. I stared at him as well, not sure what would come next.

Mason just glared back as he took another drag of her cigarette.

“What’s with this bullshit defiance, whatever you want to call it,” she snapped.

“I’m a grown man. You’re lucky I’ve hung around this long,” he tossed back. He remained calm as he talked back to her.

“You’re grown, huh?” she asked, laughing. The laugh wasn’t the result of her amusement; it was because she was pissed.

“Yep,” he said, popping the p louder than usual.

Seconds later, Payton whipped her hairbrush at him. Mason blocked it with his forearm, sending it to the floor.

I flinched at Payton’s sudden movement. She wasn’t backing down.

She balled her fist, going after Mason. Mason grabbed her and shoved her, and she fell backward onto her bed. His body hovered over her, his breathing ragged and unsteady from anger.

He still held the cigarette between his fingers as he grabbed ahold of Payton’s shirt.

I stopped myself from getting in the middle.

“That’s the last time you’re going to do that to me!” Mason yelled. He shoved her as soon as she tried to sit up. Payton was outraged. She grabbed a hold of his shirt, a million insults flying from her lips.

Mason pried her hands off him.

“You’re as worthless as your father!” she screamed at him.

Mason was immediately angered when he heard the words he never wanted to hear from anyone. He stepped back, putting some distance between him and his so-called mother and flicked the cigarette at her. He grabbed the next thing he saw, ripping the lamp’s cord from the wall.

“Mason!” I screamed, as I watched him raise the lamp above his head. Payton raised her hands in defense as he threw it at her. He didn’t stick around. He was out the door seconds later.

I gave Payton a quick glance to make sure she was okay, then stepped over the lamp and ran for the door.

“That’s it!” Payton screamed from the bed, scrambling to get her bearings.

“I hope it is, bitch!” he screamed from the hallway, startling a woman walking past us. I looked away, embarrassed, and scared that someone would call the cops.

“Mason, calm down, someone is going to call the law,” I warned him, grabbing his arm. His body was rigid with anger, like a wild dog ready to attack.

“Let them. I don’t give a shit!” He pulled away from me and stomped down the hallway.

“I want you to give a shit, Mason.” I yelled at him, trying to catch up with him. My nerves could not handle much more.

“You and the world, Kendall,” he said.

When the elevator door opened, I stepped inside and leaned against the wall, staring at Mason. I wanted to smack him for his outburst. It wasn’t that Payton didn’t deserve it, because she did. But this wasn’t the time or place for their fight. I wished he’d just given in and done her dirty work for her.

The elevator came to a stop. He sighed and took my hand. “Let’s go eat. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

I kept quiet, a million thoughts running through my mind as we headed downtown. My head and body ached and I had to push myself to keep moving. I felt worse with each passing minute.

“Mason, I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like crap,” I said, clutching my stomach. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. The people behind us moved around but not before glancing back to see what was going on. Mason took my arm and pulled me toward him.

“What do you think it is?” he asked, rubbing my back gently trying to make me feel better.

“That crap,” I muttered. I stood up straight and forced myself to walk.

We headed into the diner—the same one Renee worked at. Mason held onto me as we waited to be seated.

“Hola,” Renee said, coming to us. She had a smirk on her face as she took the two of us in. She looked fine. You’d never have guessed she’d partied the night away. Must be she’d grown accustomed to the drugs and could handle herself. I couldn’t.

“Hey,” Mason and I said in unison. We followed her to a back booth. Renee looked confused when she saw Mason’s hands on me—confused, but not upset.

“What can I get you to drink?” she asked, shooting us a warm smile. I admired how fresh she looked, makeup and all. I’m sure I looked like death warmed over.

“Two cokes,” Mason said, grabbing a menu. “That should help with what ails you.” He shot me a look.

I nodded and grabbed my own menu, not sure that food was the best idea for me at the moment.

“Just some french fries and the Coke,” I told her.

“I think Renee is weirded out by you,” Mason pointed out after Renee left to fill our order.

“Why would you think that?” I challenged, thinking the same thing myself.

“I know girls. And I can tell when they are weirded out by other girls,” he said. “They get especially weird after they’ve had sex with someone.”

I laughed out loud at Mason’s theory on women.

“That’s funny because I’ve slept with you for years and it hasn’t affected me at all.” I grinned, amused by him even in my sickness.

“Believe me, I know it hasn’t.” Everything fell silent. Mason was obviously bothered. He jumped out of his side of the booth and climbed in across from me.

“Mason, what are you doing?” I asked. He took my hand, but I pulled away, looking around to see who might be watching.

“We never finished our conversation back at the hotel. I think you wanted to know if I care about you. I don’t think you believe that I do,” he said. He grabbed my hand again. His stare was intense. My eyes drifted from Mason’s hard stare to the grip he had on my hands and then to the people in the diner.

“Kendall, I tell you all the time I care about you. You’re more important to me than anyone else. What happened the other night with Renee would never compare to you. And I was stupid to even do it…high or not. And that’s the God’s honest truth.”

I swallowed. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t realize I had such feelings for Mason until now, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Mason was my best friend and I realized he’s all I wanted. I knew I wanted him to be a part of me, more than I knew how. And, I wanted him to pick me.

“And you don’t even need to say anything. I’m screwed up. I don’t know how any of this works any better than you do. But I do believe you’re worth every second it would take to figure it out,” Mason said. The look on his face pulled at my heartstrings.

Renee returned with our food, the tray resting against her hip.

“French fries, two Cokes. Mason did you figure out what you wanted to eat yet?” she asked, eying us. I pulled my hand free from his.

“Cheeseburger and fries,” he said, looking at Renee.

He leaned back in the booth. I studied him as he sat there. There was one things I knew about Mason for certain. He was as honest as the day was long. He didn’t care if it hurt your feelings. If he had something to say, he was going to say it. I was sure he’d never lied to me…ever.

“So, hey,” Renee said, turning back around to face us. “What are you two doing later? There’s a lot more fun to be had before you leave beautiful Virginia.”

Mason looked at me for a signal of what I might want to do. I thought it strange she was so easy to forgive him after nearly tossing Shifty over the balcony.

“I don’t know. I’m not feeling that good,” I said. It was the truth. I felt like I’d been dragged for miles and hit by death himself.

“What about you, Mason?” she asked.

“If Kendall is feeling better in a few hours and wants to come, we’ll give you a call or something,” he said, shooting me a look.

Renee nodded and hurried off.

Mason grinned, stealing one of my fries.

“I wonder how much longer we’ll be here. Every day we sit puts me closer to my grave,” he said with a laugh.

“Keep your mouth shut if you have nothing good to say, Mason. I don’t think it’s funny at all,” I warned him, sinking lower in my seat.

“It’s funny. We’re sitting ducks. Sometimes I wonder if we’ll even make it out alive. You can’t say you haven’t thought the same thing. I know I’d fight tooth and nail before I sat the rest of my life in a cell. They might as well kill me. Jail is no life at all,” he said.

He hadn’t gotten the hint that I didn’t want to talk doom and gloom. It was misery and it made me feel even worse. It promised only despair with no chance of achieving our dreams.

I covered my mouth, afraid I was going to be sick, and ran to the bathroom, nearly knocking down an elderly couple in line to pay for their meal.

I pushed open the first stall door and dropped to my knees losing what little I had in my stomach.

“Are you okay in here?” Renee called out from the other side of the stall. I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth.

“Yeah, I’m all right. Just an upset stomach,” I said, coming out of the stall.

“So what’s the deal with you and Mason if you don’t mind me prying?” she asked. Her smile faded a bit as we stood there staring in the mirror.

“I’ve known Mason for too many years to count. He’s always been a part of my life,” I said short and to the point.

“He loves you. It’s written all over him,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze. “And you’re lucky, he’s a cute guy. His eyes are incredible, amongst other things,” she said, giggling at the last part.

I understood all too well what she was referring to.

We made our way back out to the diner. Mason watched me climb back into the booth. I wondered if Renee could be right. Maybe Mason did love me.

We ate our food quickly. Mason convinced me to go for a walk to steer clear of Payton. We walked back the way we came, trying to figure out where to go.

“How about we walk by the water?” he asked, taking my hand in his as we slowly made our way.

“That sounds good,” I said, trying to not become unnerved by his harmless touch. Something in me had changed, and it was becoming more difficult to be myself around him.

“I’m sorry I upset you. I never know when to shut my mouth,” he said.

“Yeah…it gets to be too much after a while,” I said.

He squeezed my hand a little tighter. We came to a stop by the water, watching and hearing the waves crash onto the shore below. It felt so peaceful in that moment.

“What do you think Payton is thinking right now?” I asked. The boat in the distance looked so small.

“I have no idea. It’s not the first time she tried busting me in the face.”

“It’s the first time you reacted though,” I reminded him.

The wind grew stronger, whipping my hair away from my face.

“My dad is the one button you can’t push. She could have said anything else to me, but not that. I’m nothing like that man. I don’t want to ever be like him. He’s the reason my mom is as messed up as she is.”

I could tell the angst had returned at the mention of his dad.

“You’re nothing like him,” I said. “You’re actually sort of amazing.”

Mason laughed. He pushed me playfully. I rolled my eyes at his reaction to my compliment. Once again he was being his usual self.

“Why don’t we just say it already?” He smirked. “I mean… come on, now.”

I eyed him carefully, not knowing how to react to that. “What is it you think we want to say?”

“That we love each other. I kicked myself every time I stopped myself from telling you. I know you love me, too, and that’s all that matters,” he said, pulling me in close.

His arm tightened around me as we stood and stared at the water in a shared silence.

I wanted to say the same thing to him, but I wasn’t sure I knew how.

Mason dug around in his pocket and pulled out a crumbled piece of paper.

“I was going to say screw it, but maybe it’s something we could benefit from,” he said, waving the address Payton had given him in front of my face.

I took the paper from him, reading Payton’s elegant writing. I wondered just where 77 Elm Rue was located. I had seen enough of Payton’s friends to know it probably wasn’t anyplace nice.

“I don’t know. The whole thing sounds strange to me.” I handed the paper back.

Mason shrugged off my intuition and tugged me back down the street. He whistled loudly and waved his hand, hailing a taxi to a quick stop.

We climbed into the yellow cab. The gray-haired driver looked us over as we climbed into the backseat.

“Where we heading?” he asked, looking back and throwing a flabby, hairy arm across the seat.

“This address right here,” Mason said, handing over the paper.

“Humph,” the man grunted.

I looked at Mason to see if he caught the driver’s response to the address he saw written on the paper.

He was lost in his thoughts as he stared out the window. He was a man on a mission. I couldn’t understand the point of it. His thoughts of taking whatever it was he was supposed to pick up away from Payton was just stupid. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t find out—these people we were her friends.

We rode for about twenty minutes before we reached our destination. We ended up on a long stretch of road with only a few little houses on one side. On the other side was what looked to be some kind of factory nestled in beside an old junk yard surrounded by a rickety old fence.

The cab driver looked back at us, not willing to let us leave until we paid him. I nudged Mason back to life. He was busy looking out his window taking everything in.

“Here, keep the change,” he said handing over the money. “Which one is it?”

The old man cleared his throat. He rubbed a hand across his gray stubble and pointed toward the junkyard.

“Have a nice day,” he said, driving off.

The tone of his voice told me he didn’t mean it at all. My heart sped up at the realization we were alone now on this barren street.

“It’ll be fine,” Mason said, taking my hand. He sensed my apprehension. “I’m sure we can walk a ways up the road and find someone to take us back.”

I nodded as we headed across the street. As we got closer to the fence that surrounded the entire junkyard, I felt so small below the towering gate. A big red sign hung above our heads, silently swaying back and forth with the breeze.

“Gary Stingy junk and parts,” I read aloud. “That name sound familiar to you?”

Mason looked up and shook his head. Great.

Mason rattled the fence, sending several snarling dogs barking. He looked around for any signs of life—it seemed abandoned. I looked around until my eyes settled on an intercom. I pressed the button and a buzz swirled through the air.

Mason stepped back, releasing his hold on the fence.

The intercom cracked and hissed as if it were on its last leg.

“Can I help you?” someone asked.

I couldn’t gauge the age of the voice at all. I crossed my arms and let Mason do the talking.

“I’m here for Payton,” Mason said, short and to the point. He tapped the fence. It was obvious he was as antsy as I was.

“I’ll be right there,” the voice said, leaving us in silence.

Mason ran a hand through his hair. He paced back and forth and finally came to a stop when we both caught sight of the man coming toward us. He was massive, covered in blue jean overalls. His hair fluttered in the wind. And the black rubber gloves that ran all the way to his elbows shook with each step. He looked like the killer in those horror movies I used to watch.

As I looked around, I realized the whole setting could have been from one of those horror movies.

“I hope you’re lucky today,” I mumbled.

“You say Payton?” the man asked standing before us now. He towered over us both. He rubbed at his face, streaks of dirt and lord knows what else etched his features. His other hand was holding a blowtorch. I prayed it was used for an honest living and not torturing people like us.

“Yeah, I said Payton,” Mason said, giving a quick nod.

The man brought his hand above his head and unhooked the gate. It rattled and clanged before screeching open.

“I thought she had second thoughts,” he said to no one in particular. He slammed the gate shut, getting the dogs revved up again. Cars were stacked on top of each other in glorious heaps.

“Who are you exactly?” he asked, staring down at the two of us. We were heading toward a beat up trailer, its siding in appalling condition.

“I’m Payton’s son, Mason,” Mason said, extending his hand toward the grizzly man. He removed a glove and shoved his grease-caked fingernails in Mason’s direction, accepting his handshake.

“That’s right.” He shook his head as if he understood now. He opened up the trailer door, letting us in first.

I held tight to Mason’s shirt as we went inside. My breath caught in my chest at the stale smell of dust and cigarettes.

“Have a seat,” he said, going behind an old brown desk stacked to the ceiling with papers.

I looked around at the makeshift office, staying at the very edge of my seat. I wasn’t about to get comfortable. Its cracked plastic stabbed my thigh. I nervously intertwined my fingers, totally unnerved but trying to keep it together.

Mason sat down next to me, his chair falling sideways—it was missing a leg. If I hadn’t been so nervous, it would have been funny.

“Well, give me a couple minutes to get things together. Like I said, I didn’t think she was having you come.” He stood up and left the trailer, his feet pounded against the floor with hard thuds.

I looked at Mason the minute we were alone. I really hoped he wasn’t as stupid as he was acting right now.

“This doesn’t feel right, Mason,” I said as soon as we were alone.

Mason looked at me, his expression unchanging. He was trying to make sense of it, of everything that was happening. I had already and I knew it wasn’t good.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, but something isn’t right. We shouldn’t be here.” I stopped talking as soon as the door opened. The man who’d just been here came back in carrying a black duffle bag. Another man followed in behind him.

He stood in the doorway, his muscular frame evident from the sunlight coming in through the windows. He was a tall man, handsome and tan—the complete opposite of the grizzly man with the duffle bag. I looked over at him and a small smile flashed across his face as we locked eyes. I didn’t smile back. He was blocking the door for some reason and I knew it couldn’t be good.

“Well, come take a look. Your mom asked for my best,” he said, waving Mason over.

Mason grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me up with him. I looked at the scary man, his expression stayed the same. We both peered into the bag at the same time. The bag contained a large variety of handguns and shotguns.

That certainly didn’t make me feel any better.

“Guns,” Mason said.

“That’s my specialty,” he said, rifling through the bag. He pulled out a long black case, brandishing a large knife. I swear it was sharp enough to kill a bear with one swipe. “And knives.”

“I don’t know what she’s looking for and I don’t have any money.” Mason backed up.

I looked around the room knowing the only way we were leaving was if we could get past the man blocking the door. “That makes sense seeing your mom told us to forget it,” the man at the door said. He stepped forward, eying the two of us.

“Yeah, she told us you were a piece of work. Mom knows best right? She assumed you’d still show up though,” the grizzly man said.

Mason shrugged.

I looked around the room for anything I might grab to defend myself in case things turned ugly.

“We can leave,” Mason proposed as he took my hand. “Come on, Kendall.”

I stayed where I was. That was a stupid assumption on Mason’s part because we weren’t going anywhere.

“No, I don’t think so, Mason,” the handsome one said. He touched my hair, letting it slip through his fingers. He seemed amused with our dilemma.

“Look, Kendall has nothing to do with my mom and me,” Mason said.

Judging by the look on their faces neither one of them cared.

“Your mom seems to think you need to be taught a lesson. And that’s another one of my specialties,” the grizzly man said as he came around the desk.

I couldn’t contain my fear any longer. As he came around the desk holding that knife, I screamed. Payton was insane and I knew we were doomed. You didn’t want to be on Payton’s bad side. I had known for weeks that Mason had stepped on Payton’s toes one too many times. Payton wanted Mason to pay for going against her.

“Don’t worry, none of these are loaded,” the grizzly man said.

“These two are though,” the other guy said, lifting his shirt. Two guns were nestled in the waist of his pants.

“Come on, sweetie,” the handsome one said, grabbing me by the elbow.

Mason jumped in front of me to stop him from taking me out of the trailer. He pushed Mason back and reminded him who was in charge by lifting his shirt again to reveal the loaded guns. Mason didn’t back off.

“Mason, please stop,” I said. I knew he regretted forcing me to go along with his plan. I felt bad for him.

“I’m sorry, Kendall,” he said.

I followed the man out of the trailer, looking back at Mason once as I left.

“You can call me Mark,” he said, pulling me down the rickety stairs. His hand remained gripped on my arm.

“Kendall,” I said. I kept my eyes glued to the ground. I could hear the grizzly man’s voice coming from the trailer. I wondered what they were going to do to Mason. Were they crazy enough to kill him?

I began to cry at Mason’s unknown fate. Tears slid down my face. It wasn’t a surprise really; I’d known for some time we’d eventually be facing something like this. I just wasn’t ready to face it yet…not now.

“Why are you crying?” Mark asked.

“Mason doesn’t deserve this, sir.” I wouldn’t look at him.

“Whoa now, no need to call me sir. I’m thirty-seven, not fifty.” He unlocked the door to a small garage. Inside were several cars and a bunch of boxes. Tools lined the pegboard on the walls giving me several choices for a weapon in case I needed to defend myself.

“Ahh, Sam’s a big teddy bear,” he said dismissively. “He’s just doing a favor for an old pal. It’s not often the women line up for him,” he said, a big grin spreading across his face as he stared at me. He shut the door and leaned against it.

“Mason doesn’t deserve this,” I said again. I wondered if we were going to make it out of here alive.

“Seems not everyone agrees with your opinion.” He crossed his arms. “You guys run around with that crazy broad?”

I nodded.

“She’s a looker, but she’s nuts.”

I wondered how Payton knew these people.

“Are you going to kill us?” I asked finally. I watched him closely. His arm stayed crossed, his posture relaxed.

“I’m just the doorman,” he offered.

I knew he was full of crap. Men like this were capable of anything and would kill in a heartbeat and not blink an eye.

“What are you…about eighteen?” he asked. I nodded even though it wasn’t true—didn’t matter.

“Kids your age make a lot of mistakes. Probably like the one you made today.” He came closer, his eyes an intent stare.