Page 5 of Mason

“Why are you here?” Mia’s voice is a whipcrack, sharp and demanding. No hesitation. No soft reunion.

The metal chair beneath me is cold, but not as cold as the look Mia throws my way from behind the grimy glass partition.

Her arms are crossed, her jaw tight, and the light above flickers, catching the sharp edges of her glare.

Maxine is with her, standing by quietly, out of her element. She hovers near the back, arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to make herself small. I don’t like it. She’s too thin. Too skittish. Even in a room with locked doors and guards, she’s still looking for an exit.

I want to say something—something that will pull her back—but Mia is already stepping forward, eyes burning into mine.

The warmth I felt at seeing them twists, turns into something heavier. My girls. The only two people in this world who have ever made me feel like more than just a man with blood on my hands.

Mia drops into the chair across from me, but there’s nothing relaxed about it. She’s on edge, waiting, daring me to give her a bullshit answer.

“Hey, kid,” I say, offering a small smile.

She doesn’t return it.

“Don’tkidme.” Her fingers curl into a fist on the table. “What the hell, Mason? Why are you in here?”

I lean forward, resting my forearms on the metal. “It’s just a short term stay, kid.”

Her breath flares through her nose. “I hear what they’re saying. But I also know people like you don’t get arrested for a driving offence.”

Maxine finally moves, pulling out a chair with slow, deliberate movements. Her fingers tap against the surface, restless. She glances at me, but it’s quick—like she’s afraid of what she’ll see.

I hate that.

She used to look at me like I was someone who could keep her safe. Now, I’m just another man behind a glass partition. Another disappointment.

“I’ll be out soon,” I tell Mia. The words feel stale the second they leave my mouth.

Her eyes narrow. “Right. Because jail cells are so easy to get out of once you’re in here, right?”

I smirk despite myself. “You get that mouth from your mother.”

For half a second, her expression softens, like she remembers something good. Something before all of this. But it’s gone in a blink.

“What are you really doing in here, Mason?” she asks, voice lower now. “I know you wouldn’t do anything stupid. That’s not your style. And it’s not befitting of an underboss.”

I let out a slow breath, my gaze settling on hers. “It’s only for a little while, pumpkin.”

The nickname barely touches her. She just shakes her head.

“I tried to bail you out,” she says. “Brando talked me out of it. Said it was being taken care of. That you’d be out in a few days.” A pause. “What are you both not telling me?”

I’m trying to protect you, Mia. That’s what fathers do.

I don’t say it. I don’t have that right. She’s my daughter in every way but on paper, even if she doesn’t know it.

Maxine shifts. Her fingers clutch the edge of the table, knuckles white. I can see the war inside her, the words she wants to say but won’t. Then, suddenly, she pushes back her chair.

“I need to walk,” she murmurs.

Mia watches her go, but she doesn’t follow. Her eyes turn back to me, searching, waiting.

She wants answers.

But she’s not going to get them.

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