Page 83 of Hidden Resolution
A rough frisk came up empty except for a wallet. The guy’s driver’s license identified him as Billy Grant from Miami Beach, Florida.
Mason shoved him in a side chair and ordered him to stay put. “Don’t move. If I have to chase you down, I’ll beat the hell out of you. Got it?”
“Yeah, man. I got it,” the younger man said sullenly.
Keeping an eye on Billy, Mason poked his head in Shonda’s bedroom and called her name. When she didn’t answer, he shouted again.
A bleary green eye popped open, struggling to focus.
“Do you have a cousin Billy?” he asked, exasperated from the hassle and lack of sleep.
“Billy?”
“Yes. Surfer type from Florida.”
“Um…”
“It’s a yes-or-no answer, love,” he said dryly.
“Then I’d have to shay… maybe?”
It was too much to hope she had sobered up with a few hours of sleep. Mason wanted to bang his head against the wall in frustration. Right now, a guy was sitting in her living room, trying to look so damn innocent, and he could very well bethe same one who had mugged her. His timing was seriously suspect.
“Shonda, I need you to come out here for a minute.”
She staggered up, underwear askew. One breast was on full display, along with an ass cheek.
“Love, you might want to grab a robe.”
Her owl-eyed blink was laughable, but Mason held himself in check. With a shake of his head, he rubbed the spot between his brows. He was never going to let her consume more than two drinks in the future. He didn’t possess the patience for this aspect of her over-imbibing.
“Dude, I could come back,” Billy offered, standing and inching toward the door.
“Park it!” Mason barked.
Of course, Bullheaded Billy Boy had to push it with another step.
“One more inch before she confirms your identity, and I’ll break both your legs,” Mason growled.
His last threat rang true, and Billy Boy dropped into the chair, fear in the wild eyes he cast around as he looked for an escape.
When Shonda was safely clad in a robe, albeit a slinky one, she ambled toward him. About two feet away, still out of sight of Billy, Mason stopped her. “Please fix your bra and belt your robe, love,” he suggested in a low voice.
After straightening her clothing as much as she was able, she joined him for a bleary-eyed peek at her intruder.
“Billy!” she cried, throwing her arms wide as if for a hug.
Mason, having anticipated her move, stepped in front of her and secured her robe tighter.
“So you know him?” he asked.
She squinted over his shoulder. “I think sho.”
And because she didn’t sound positive, he gently drew her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “Shonda. I need you to focus. Is this guy your cousin or not?”
“Yessh. Itsh Billy.”
“I told you, man,” the guy said, suddenly smug.
