Page 43 of Hidden Resolution
Groceries loaded and keys in hand, she reached for the ignition.
Her door flew open, and Mason yanked her out.
“Stop man-handling me,” she snapped. “I don’t like it.”
“We need to talk.”
“The hell we do.”
As he dragged her toward the warmth of the shop, an explosion rocked the air and slammed her into his back, sending them both sprawling on the ground. Instinct took over, and he rolled, shielding her head with his arms. They lay unmoving for a few minutes until the initial shock wore off.
Once the ringing in her ears faded, she shoved at his chest.
Mason’s movements were stiff as he pushed to his feet and held out a hand to her.
“Are you okay?” she asked, checking him for injury.
“I’ll live,” he replied darkly, brushing dirt from his jeans. “Really, Shonda, stop. I slammed my knee on the way down, but it’s fine. But your car, though…”
“My car?”
She whirled just in time to see her white Maxima fully engulfed in flames.
“What the fuck?” she cried, unable to wrap her head around the loss or why it would explode. “Do you think it was a faulty wire? Why would a car just blow up?”
“It wouldn’t,” he said grimly.
13
“The fire marshal called. It was definitely an incendiary device,” Mason informed her, striding into the kitchen.
“A bomb, Mason. You can call it a bomb.” Shonda’s voice wobbled.
He fought his desire to gather her close and assure her he’d keep her safe. But his arms remained at his sides. His protective instinct didn’t mean a damn thing when safety wasn’t something he could guarantee. The only reason she wasn’t in a body bag was because he’d stopped her from driving off. If his anger hadn’t gotten the better of him, she’d be ash and bone right now. And her death would’ve wrecked him in ways he couldn’t admit out loud.
Too many puzzle pieces didn’t fit. Was it a warning, like the break-ins in St. Thomas? Or was it intended to finish her this time? Maybe she’d unknowingly witnessed what she shouldn’t have, and someone wanted her silenced. But how did her doppelgänger play into this? The questions came fast, stacking like bricks in his mind.
“I’m worried for your safety, love.”
“Me, too. I don’t know who’s doing this, making it impossible to put safeguards in place. Stonebrooke’s tiny police force is stretched thin, looking for the person terrorizing Erica and Zack.” She couldn’t hide her rising panic. “Oh, crap! Will you call your brother and make sure Erica doesn’t watch the local news? She doesn’t need to worry about me. Not with all they have going on.”
His mouth tightened, giving him away. He hated secrets and half-truths. And her pleading don’t-make-this-worse expression twisted him up. But he couldn’t find a single reason to argue against it. With a few quick taps, he sent Zack a heads-up.
“You might want to give your parents a call, too,” he said.
“Fuck! You’re right. Papa will have a meltdown. I’ll contact Nico.”
“Nico?” The handsome maitre d’ from the restaurant? “Why not your father?”
Her silence was suspect.
“Shonda, why don’t you want to speak to your father?”
The casual shrug didn’t fool him.
“Is he still upset with you from the night we had dinner there?” Mason asked.
“Can you please drop it?” She rubbed the spot between her brows and sighed. “I can’t see where it’s any of your business anyway.”
