Page 52 of Mason

I meet his stare head-on, unbothered. “I could ask you the same thing.”

His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes sharpen, narrowing slightly as if that alone is enough to pry answers from me.

Like I owe him something.

Like he can look at me and see what I’m hiding.

He fucking can’t.

“I’m actually here to see Mrs. Eddy,” he says smoothly.

I feel the shift before I see it.

Shelby goes rigid as she steps up beside me, her body locked like she’s been struck.

I whip my head in her direction just in time to catch the storm brewing in her eyes.

Her lips press together, tight, her fingers curling into white-knuckled fists at her sides.

“It’s Miss Monroe,” she hisses through clenched teeth, each syllable razor-sharp. “If you hadn’t received the memo, I’m divorced.”

I almost smirk.Almost.

But Saxon nods slowly, and I can see it happening—the way his mind is putting the puzzle together, clicking pieces into place, rearranging the narrative until it starts to make more sense to him.

He glances back at me.

His expression doesn’t change, but something in his gaze does.

Something that puts me on edge.

“I’m here to talk about David Eddy.”

And just like that, I feel Shelby stiffen again.

I hope to God she can keep her composure.

Because I don’t know what the fuck this tool is doing here, but I do know it can’t be good.

“Nowyou want to talk about him?” Shelby’s voice rises, her disbelief sharp, edged in frustration and darkness. “Where were you all when I had plenty to say?”

Saxon doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t react.

“I need to ask you a few questions.”

Slowly, he shifts, dragging his hands out of his pockets, placing them on his hips, his gaze sweeping the area around the house, like if he looks hard enough, he can scrape the surface of the secrets that lurk in this street.

I know what he’s doing.

He’s testing her.

Trying to shake her.

Trying to intimidate her.

But it backfires spectacularly.

Because Shelby steps forward, mirroring his stance, her spine straight, her chin tipped up, her own hands planted firmly on her hips.

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