Page 71 of King of Sinners

“Hey, Charlotte,” he says, his voice friendly as ever.

“Hey, Jackson,” I reply as I clear my throat, I can hear the emotion in my vocal cords, but I try to shake them off. I don’t want Jackson to worry. I don’t even have a super clear plan here. I just need to get out. Find some space and think…

“Everything all right?” Jackson asks in his usual friendly way.

“Fine. I just need to go out to the store. I?—”

“Sorry, Charlotte. No can do.”

“What?” I can barely breathe my pulse is racing so quickly.

“Mason’s orders. No one can come in or out.”

My fingers touch my forehead. “I thought I wasn’t a prisoner,” I whisper as much to myself as to him. But he still hears me.

“Rules apply to everyone, even me,” Jackson answers. “With the bombing, everyone is staying in the building, using the empty apartments. Safer.”

I shake my head. How am I going to face Mason after reading those texts? “I need to leave, Jackson. I can’t stay I…” My voice breaks.

“Hang on. What’s got you so—” But his voice cuts out as I hear a thump and then another, the sound of the phone clattering on the ground, creating static on the line.

“Jackson? Jackson?” I call into the phone. But I hear a click and then the phone line goes dead.

I stare at my phone wondering what is going on when the light to the elevator illuminates.

For a second I blink at it, trying to puzzle out what’s happening. Who could be coming up? No one has the code but family…

And then my brain starts to work. Someone knocked Jackson out. Took his phone. The phone with the code. But who?

But I don’t wait for the answer as I grab my phone and run…

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Charlotte

There aren’t many places to hide in Mason’s penthouse, even his bed has a frame that goes to the floor, so I end up in the cabinet in his bathroom.

With shaking fingers, I turn my ringer off and then dial Mason.

It rings twenty times before it goes to voicemail, a half sob fills my chest but I push it down and try again.

My heart is pounding in my chest as the phone goes to voicemail a second time.

That’s when I hear the ding of the elevator.

I stifle a scream as the sound of footsteps on the marble floor echo through the apartment.

“Charlotte.”

My breath catches as I try to dial again. My vision is blurring but I know who the voice belongs to. Leo. I don’t answer. I’m not helping him find my hiding spot.

“What are you doing, Charlotte? Come on out, sweetheart. We need to talk.”

Sweetheart. I am not his sweetheart. I’m not Mason’s either if what Leo has said is true.

I hit the call button again, the line ringing for a third time.

Finally, he picks up. “Charlotte?”

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