Page 94 of Mason

The building looms like a mausoleum, shadows stretching across the broken concrete, the scent of oil and old metal curling in the back of my throat. Every instinct I have is bristling, clawing at me. This place is wrong. Too quiet. Too still. Like a breath being held just a second too long.

Clay isn’t coming.

He doesn’t need to. Whatever madness he stirred up with his tech experiments ends here. And I’m the one who has to clean it up.

But I can’t let myself think about how this ends.

I can’t let my mind go there—to Shelby. To what could happen if this goes sideways. If I’m too late.

If they already took her apart just to make a point.

I move in armed, gun raised, each step silent and precise. I’m not a man anymore—I’m a shadow with teeth. An executioner built for moments like this.

The factory swallows me whole.

Steel beams above. Empty crates. Rusted-out machinery long since forgotten. No voices. No movement. Just the soft thud of my boots and the sound of my own breath.

Too quiet.

Waytoo quiet.

I sweep the room, corners first, eyes scanning, heart steady even as my ribs tighten like a vice. Then I see it.

The chair.

Dead center. Like a stage waiting for its final act. A single bulb flickers above it, casting a lonely glow that doesn’t quite touch the edges of the room.

And on the seat?—

Shelby’s phone.

My pulse spikes.

The bottom drops out of my stomach and keeps falling.

I move closer. Step by step, my muscles drawn tight like they’re ready to snap. That phone shouldn’t be here.Sheshouldn’t be here. Something’s wrong.

So wrong.

Then I hear it.

Click.

The sound is so quiet it almost disappears under the hum of the light.

Tripwire.

Fuck.

I dive—no hesitation, no time to think—just pure instinct as I throw myself behind a stack of crates, my shoulder slamming into the ground just as the explosiontearsthrough the room.

Fire.

Shrapnel.

Sound like the world cracking open.

The blast hammers into my back, sends me skidding across the floor. My lungs seize. My ears ring with static. For a second,everything’s upside down. My vision spins and all I can taste is blood and smoke.

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