Page 105 of Mason

“We’ll move when the time is right. But when we do, we make sure every single motherfucker responsible for this pays in blood.”

That, at least, is something I can hold on to. A promise. A vow.

My hands curl into fists as I lift my gaze to Scar’s but don’t say the words sitting on the tip of my tongue.

I just hope we’re not too late.

The room emptieslike a slow exhale.

Scar’s words still echo in my chest.“We make sure every single motherfucker responsible for this pays in blood.”

It’s the kind of promise you don’t write down. You carve it into your soul and bleed for it.

The men file out—some silent, some murmuring updates into earpieces. The Gatti war machine is in motion now, gears grinding, engines purring. But it still feels too slow. Too measured. I don’t want strategy.

I wantretribution.

I push off the wall and move to the one way window, staring out over Scar’s compound. Armed men. Motion sensor lights. Steel gates and reinforced glass. A fortress built on vengeance and blood. This is our life. And yet Shelby—sweet, brave,mine—was taken right out from under our noses.

She trusted me.

And I failed her.

Behind me, I hear the soft clink of glass. Lucky pours two fingers of whiskey and holds it out without saying a word.

I take it. Knock it back in one go.

“You look like you’re about to walk out there and set the whole city on fire,” he says, voice low.

“If that’s what it takes.”

He studies me for a long beat. “You’re not wrong.”

I turn to him slowly, my chest tight with something that feels a hell of a lot like shame. “You’ve been here before. With Jacklyn. Youknowwhat this feels like.”

He nods, jaw flexing. “I do.”

“Then you know that every minute we waste in this goddamn house feels like we’re letting her slip further away.”

“I also know what it’s like to storm into a trap and nearly get her killed.”

That lands. Sharp and clean.

“I’m not trying to lecture you,” he adds. “But you’re no good to her dead, Mason. You’re no good to her out of control.”

I press a hand to the wound on my shoulder. It’s bandaged now, the bleeding stopped, but it aches like a warning.

“She’s not just some girl,” I say quietly. “I can’t explain it. She’s...more. Like I’ve been walking around hollow and didn’t even know it until I met her. And now she’s gone, and I?—”

I stop.

Lucky just watches me, eyes dark and unflinching.

“I know,” he says simply. “We get her back. And when we do, you tell her that.”

I don’t answer. I don’t need to.

I just grab my gun, check the clip, and chamber a round.

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