Page 30 of Silent Sins

But he couldn’t let himself get distracted. Not now—not when so much was at stake. Paul’s safety, the success of the mission, everything hung in the balance. Mason had to stay focused, had to keep his emotions in check. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, to let Avery see how much she affected him.

So he sat in silence, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He would do his job, would see this mission through to the end, no matter what it cost him. Even if it meant burying these new feelings, pushing them down deep where they couldn’t interfere.

After a lifetime of practice. He was good at it.

But as they drove on through the misty morning, Mason couldn’t shake the nagging sense that this time, things were different. That Avery was different. And try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the part of him that wanted to pull her close, to feel her warmth against his skin, to lose himself in her touch.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had a job to do, and he wouldn’t let anything, not even his own traitorous heart, get in the way of that. But as Avery glanced over at him, her eyes bright with determination and something else he couldn’t quite name, Mason knew that this mission would test him in ways he’d never been tested before. And he could only hope that when it was all over, he’d still be the same man he was when it began.

As they neared the industrial area where the Rain Bay warehouse was located, the weather settled into a steady drizzle. The kind of weather Mason usually hated. As a SEAL, there was nothing worse than running an op in the rain. Most guys said they hated heat. A few considered snow the worst. But for him, it was the steady drip, drip, drip of water down the back of his neck, seeping into his boots, chilling him to the bone. He’d rather broil in the heat any day. And don’t even get him started on the pleasures of a nice, Artic wind.

But today, he didn’t mind so much. Because of Avery.

That scared him more than anything.

They parked up the street from the warehouse, the steady patter of rain against the windshield filling the silence between them. Mason unzipped his backpack, pulling out the various pieces of his disassembled sniper rifle. He worked methodically, his hands moving with practiced ease as he snapped the pieces together.

Avery watched him, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. “What are you planning on shooting?”

Mason held up one of the black bullets, the metal gleaming dully in the dim light. “RFIDs,” he explained. “Tracking bullets. I’m going to tag one of the delivery trucks.”

Understanding dawned on Avery’s face. “Because the warehouse is probably wired with anti-bugging devices, jammers, and detectors.”

“Exactly. Delivery trucks won’t use those, though. No need. The bullets will allow us to track the vans without getting too close.”

Avery leaned back in her seat, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Impressive.”

Mason felt a flush of pride at her approval. He finished assembling the rifle, then turned to face her, his expression growing serious. “Can I ask you something?”

She nodded, her dark eyes searching his face.

“Why did you choose to be a special agent? Given your dad’s messed up history with the Bureau, I mean.”

Avery was quiet for a long moment, her gaze distant as she stared out at the rain-soaked street. “It’s hard to explain,” she began, her voice soft. “I just knew I had to be an agent. It was like this … this pulling in my gut. Like I didn’t have a choice.”

“Like Maverick,” Mason murmured, not intending to say the words out loud.

Avery scrunched up her nose. “Top Gun?”

Mason nodded, feeling a bit sheepish.

She smiled wryly. “I know the movie. But I’m not sure my reasons for joining up were the same. I’m not looking for redemption for my father. He doesn’t need it. He did the right thing, staying with that investigation and saving those officers.”

She paused, her brow furrowing as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “I think I did it to understand him,” she mused. “To understand his sacrifice.”

Mason was stunned, humbled by the depth of her dedication. He’d never met anyone who could see so clearly, who could cut through the noise and get to the heart of things.

She turned to him, her gaze probing. “What about you and Paul? I mean, I’ve heard of sibling rivalry, but you two have a really bad case.”

Mason hesitated, the old instinct to keep his feelings locked away rising up inside him. But something about Avery made him want to open up, to let her see the man behind the stoic mask.

His hands paused. “Paul’s rebellion,” he said finally, his voice rough. “It forced me to be the good one. Always. I saw what his choices did to our parents. The worry. The self-doubt. There was no way I was going to add to their burden.” He fell silent, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. “Him playing the idiot forced me to be the good kid. I resented it. Still do, I guess.”

Avery reached out, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “That’s a big insight.”

He snorted. “You sound surprised?”

“You strike me more of an action guy than a feeling guy.”

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