Page 59 of Mason

The city hums around us, but my focus stays on the road, the steady thrum of the tires against the asphalt keeping me grounded. Shelby sits beside me, quiet, her fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve. She doesn’t fidget often. I’ve noticed that about her. She’s strong—stubborn, level-headed—but right now? She’s unraveling at the edges, and I don’t like it.

I flex my grip on the wheel.Saxon North. That motherfucker has been circling like a dog with a scent he won’t drop. The problem with men like Saxon is that they’re convinced they’re the good guys—that they’ve got the moral high ground. And that makes them the most dangerous kind of men—because they think whatever they do is justified.

Shelby shouldn’t be dealing with him.

She shouldn’t be dealing with any of this.

“You should stay with me,” I say, keeping my voice even.

She looks up at me, blinking as though I just suggested she fly to the moon. “What?”

I exhale through my nose, making a turn down a quieter street. “I don’t trust Saxon. He’s like a hound, and he won’t let goeasily. I don’t want you anywhere near him if you don’t have to be.”

She shifts in her seat, eyes narrowing. “You think he’s dangerous?”

“I think he’s relentless,” I correct. “And you don’t need to be dealing with that right now.”

Shelby hesitates, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She’s considering it, which is better than I expected.

“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, Mason,” she says finally, glancing at me.

I let out a low laugh, shaking my head. “You can have the pool house. No strings. No expectations. I may be many things, but I’m not that kind of asshole, Shelby.”

She studies me for a beat, then nods once. “Fine. But I need some things from my place.”

“Then we’ll stop by and get them,” I say, pressing down on the gas.

The minute we turn onto her street, I know something’s wrong.

Flashing lights bounce off the houses, a sickly mix of red and white bursting through the late afternoon. Thick black smoke coils into the sky, stretching toward the stars like grasping fingers. The acrid scent of burning wood and charred belongings hits me even from inside the car.

Shelby gasps beside me as we near her home. “Oh my God.”

Her house is on fire.

The entire structure is engulfed in flames, heat radiating off it in waves. Firefighters are already there, spraying water at the inferno, but I know before they say a damn thing—it’s gone. There won’t be anything left to salvage.

Shelby’s hands fly to her mouth, her breath coming in sharp, broken bursts. “No. No, no, no…”

I throw the car into park, barely registering the sound of my door slamming behind me as I round the vehicle. She’s already stepping out, her legs unsteady, her body trembling. And then she’s in my arms, burying herself against my chest like she can fold herself inside me and disappear from this nightmare.

I don’t hesitate. I wrap my arms around her, securing her against me. I can feel her heartbeat hammering wildly, her fingers clutching the fabric of my jacket in a white-knuckled grip.

“I can’t—” she chokes out, her voice thick with emotion. “How could this happen?”

I don’t have an answer for that.

One of the firemen approaches us, his face grim.

“You the owner?”

I give him a short nod, turning Shelby in my arms to talk to him.

“A neighbor called it in. The fire should be contained soon, but…” He hesitates, glancing back at the wreckage. “I’m sorry. It’s a total loss. And…” His eyes flick to mine, something unreadable in them. “It’s a crime scene now.”

I go still.

Shelby tenses in my arms.

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