Page 91 of Mason

The words don’t register at first. They hit my ears, but my brain refuses to process them. Taken? How? How thefuckcould they get to her when my security detail was right there, waiting outside the school gates, ready to pick her up?

A roar of panic slams into my chest, but my body is already moving—sluggish and uncoordinated, like I’m wading through thick, suffocating tar. The world tilts, spinning in violent, chaotic waves as a cold, insidious fear claws its way up my spine.

People don’t just get taken. This isn’t about leverage. This is about blood.

Someone hasmurderon their mind.

“I’ll call you back,” I hiss into the phone, barely recognizing my own voice—low, deadly, shaking with barely restrained fury. My fingers move on autopilot as I punch in another number, calling the detail assigned to Shelby. My chest tightens with every ring, every unbearable second they don’t pick up.

Pick up. Pick the fuck up.

Finally—“Boss.”

“Tell me you have her.”

Silence.

And then: “We went to pick her up, but—” a sharp inhale, like the guy knows he’s about to step on a goddamn landmine—“the fire alarms went off an hour ago. The school was evacuated. In the chaos... Shelby went missing.”

The world blacks out for a moment. A rush of white noise crashes over me, drowning out everything else.

They lost her.

They fucking lost her.

I grip the phone so hard it creaks under my fingers, my rage curling around my bones, turning my blood to fire.

Whoever took her?

They don’t fucking know what they’ve just started.

I stab my finger against the screen, dialing Clay back. He has answers. I need them.Now.

The phone barely rings before he picks up.

“Talk,” I snap, pacing like a caged animal, my muscles coiled so tight they might snap.Who took her? Why? Where the fuck is she?The questions pile up in my skull, a frantic, raging storm, but only one thing matters—getting Shelby back. “What do they want?”

A pause. Then?—

“A hard drive.”

I freeze mid-step.

“What hard drive?”

Clay exhales sharply. “The one with enough dirt on some of the country’s most senior politicians to start a goddamn war.”

My vision narrows. My world narrows.

I thought if Shelby was ever in danger, it’d be because of me. Because of the blood on my hands. Because of the world I live in, the enemies I’ve made.

But this isn’t about me.

Shelby isn’t being used to get to me. She’s being used to get to her own brother.

A deep, molten rage licks through my veins. “Who called you?”

“Blocked number,” Clay grinds out. “But they gave me a time and place. Told me if I hand over the drive, they’ll let her go.”

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