Page 55 of Forbidden Cravings

Chapter Sixteen

CASEY

Angie was babbling about some hunk she’d hooked up with the night before, not leaving any details out as I stared at my coffee. We’d gone for coffee at the tiny shop in town after she insisted we go shopping. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but her father had encouraged it, saying I needed to stop staring at numbers and have some fun.

This wasn’t fun. This was torment. My mind wandered to Mason. I hadn’t talked to him since he left, too afraid to call him or even text him. But I missed him dreadfully, and I was worried about him. I was concerned about my brother as well. Tyson had called me several times, screaming at me for letting Mason touch me, not listening as I tried to explain that he hadn’t used me, that it had been mutual, that I loved him. The words had spilled from my lips easily, confirming what my heart had been trying to tell me. They were words I hadn’t spoken aloud before, that I hadn’t told Mason, but their truth weighed heavy on my soul.

Tyson had ignored me, and finally I stopped answering his calls, putting him on ignore because I couldn’t take his accusations or the vileness of his words. He was being an ass, deaf to everything I was saying to him, and to what I imagined Mason had said to him. He only saw the betrayal and lies, seeingme as a victim in this when I had been the instigator. I had been the one to push Mason, to finally break him. I’d done this, and I didn’t regret it because I loved Mason with a certainty I didn’t question.

“Are you paying any attention to me, Casey?” Angie’s voice jerked me from my thoughts.

“Sorry, my mind wandered.” I would have told her what I was thinking about, but she wouldn’t have cared. She only cared about herself. Her conversations were always one sided. “What were you saying?”

“I said that guy behind the counter is flirting with me. He’s cute.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is that all you think about?”

“Yes…well, that and getting drunk and shopping. I like sex, Casey. And I’m going to get as much of it in while these tits are perky and my ass is tight. I’ll settle down when I’m older. For now, this body is getting used like it should and as often as possible.” She gave the guy behind the counter a sexy grin.

We’d been to this café often. It was a place we always stopped when we were out shopping, fueling up on caffeine before she dragged me to watch her spend her father’s money. I’d never seen this guy. The owner’s son usually fixed the coffee, but neither the owner nor his son was there today.

“Is he new?” I asked, trying not to stare at him. There was something that seemed off about him. Tattoos covered his arms, reminding me of Mason. There was an unusual tattoo that was mostly covered by his T-shirt, but the top portion stuck out on the side of his neck. It looked like the beginning of a word, maybe a name. But inside of the second letter was the start of a distinct shape. Something about it bothered me and I gnawed my lip, trying to place it.

“He was here the last time I came in. I chatted with him. The owner took his family on a vacation and he’s covering until they get back.”

I glanced at her. She was staring at him, her eyes flirty. Grabbing her wrist, I leaned in closer to her. “Doesn’t that seem odd?” I whispered.

“What are you talking about, Casey? There’s nothing odd about it,” she answered loudly. She was so oblivious, and I wanted to reach over and smack her.

I peeked over at Runt, who was standing guard close by with Billy and two other henchmen, ready to attack if anything happened. Maybe I was just being paranoid. All this talk of Bad Omens…. Bad Omens. My eyes flew back to his tattoo, recognition slapping me upside the head. Tyson had shown me the tattoo, the sign to look for, the one he and Mason had missed when Randall had taken Riley. The shape in the lettering was the start of a skull. That’s why it had bothered me.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “Runt.” I tried to quietly call his attention to us. “Runt,” I hissed, wondering how they had missed it.

He looked my way, but a loud pop split the air and blood seeped down his forehead before I could warn him. He collapsed and pandemonium broke out, gunfire filling the air along with Angie’s screams. I grabbed her, pulling her under the table. The sudden movement knocked my chair over and sent my bag, which was hooked on the back, flying. It slid across the floor, out of reach.

“Dammit,” I muttered as Angie whimpered next to me. My gun was in the bag and now I had no way of defending us. My phone, however, was on the table. I scooted to my right, squeezing my hand between the wall and the table, my fingers feeling around for it. Splinters splattered when a bullet hit the table and scraped past my pinky. The urge to panic surged, but I tempered it, ignoring the sting on the side of my hand wherethe skin had broken. My index finger hit something solid and I grabbed at the phone, securing it and drawing it down. A sigh of relief would have accompanied the sight of the phone in my hand but for Runt’s lifeless eyes, which stared back at me when I shifted my body toward Angie. I stifled my sob and hit Tyson’s number, praying he would pick up.

Angie muttered incoherently next to me as the gunfight continued. I took the scene in through the thin white tablecloth while the phone continued to ring. There were three men behind the counter, including the cute guy Angie had been flirting with.

“Fuck, Ty,” I mumbled when his voicemail picked up. Another of Donelli’s men fell, knocking into the table and flipping it over. I snatched Angie’s wrist and crawled to the next table.

Angie was crying hysterically next to me. “Shut up, Angie. We need to find a way out.”

Two more of Donell’s men had entered, and the gunfire was continuous. My eyes darted around in a feeble attempt to find a way out, but there were no exits that offered a safe escape. The pounding of my heart was almost as loud as the gunfire as I dialed Mason, knowing he never let his phone go to voicemail like Tyson had. Another man fell, blood covering his body from all the bullets he’d taken to protect us. Every ring of the phone was a slow-motion rival to the thumping of my heart. When Mason picked up, I spoke frantically, a false sense of safety overcoming me just knowing he was on the other line. Feet stopped in front of me and ripped me from under the table, and I knew it was too late. The phone flew from my hand, and I thought I heard Mason’s voice screaming in the distance just before something solid hit my head and the world went dark.

Chapter Seventeen

MASON

The tension in my neck was thick after my call with Donelli, and I expected it to remain that way when I walked into the gym. Rubbing my neck, I spotted Tyson sulking in the corner, watching two fighters in a training match. Nerves tumbled through me, and each step I took toward him was like walking across a muddy bog, my legs heavier the closer I came. Rolling my shoulders, I shook the nerves away. This was going down now, and nerves were something I couldn’t afford. Tyson would read them and take advantage of the weakness, as if I were any other prey he was hunting.

Hardening myself to what faced me, I nodded to Petey and strutted over to Tyson.

“Office, now,” I barked, walking by him.

He didn’t bother looking my way when he replied, “I don’t take orders from you, fucker.”

There was nothing in that statement reflecting any recognition of our friendship. Instead, venom poisoned each word.

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