Page 70 of Mase
I amble forward, an immense amount of guilt consuming me at the sonogram photo that’s housed in a gold frame, taking pride of place on a lone shelf. Our babies. My hand automatically moves toward my stomach, and I inch closer. The moment I reach out to touch the perfect little beans in the photo, my focus is diverted to the phone jutting out from behind the photo frame.
“Thank God.” My shoulders drop in relief, and I rush toward the door while powering the phone up. The quicker I get this over with, the better. I’m just about to pull the door wide open, but the sound of voices stops me in my tracks, and I close it enough to be able to peek through the gap.
“Look, you can stay in my old room,” Mase says, and I glimpse through the small gap to witness him brush a hand through his hair. “You can find your way there, right?”
“I remember where it is. We used to fuck in there before you asked me to marry you,” a woman’s sultry voice purrs, and my breath hitches as I cling onto the wood to remain rooted in place. Asked him to marry her? This is his ex-wife. My gut twists and sickness rushes up my throat as insecurity grips me in its tight grasp.
“You could join me. For old times’ sake.”
Don’t do anything. Don’t do anything, I chant to myself while silently pleading with Mase to send her away.
My heart breaks a little as the woman steps forward, blocking my view of Mase’s face, but her hand slides over his chest and down his leg toward his groin. I close my eyes, trying and failing to banish the image burned into my mind.
Finally springing to life, my phone beeps, and I close the door on instinct, worried the sound might have cut through their conversation.
As I switch my attention to my phone, an ominous feeling takes over me, and my blood turns to ice.
UNKNOWN: Tomorrow at noon.
UNKNOWN: Or I release the video to the police.
I can’t let this destroy Mase, even if he’s about to destroy me.
FORTY-TWO
MASE
The sun beamsdown at me as I step outside and glance down at the dozens of messages on my phone.
Owen: Call me.
Owen: You there?
Owen: Mase!
Owen: I’m tracking you now. Soon as you’re back, call me.
Owen: Call me. ASAP.
Oh, shit. I hope this isn’t something to do with Reed again. Although, for all intents and purposes, his father-in-law is being tortured a slow death for his role in Gia’s sickening childhood.
“I’ve been trying to call you. Where the fuck have you been?” Owen clips out when the callconnects.
“Up on the mountain.” He knows the story behind that mountain. I took him there once as a brother.
He audibly swallows. “Listen, Mase. We’ve got a problem. Multiple actually.”
The doorbell sounds, and my eyes flit around the room for a sign of Hugh to answer it.Where the fuck is he?
“Hold on, there’s someone at the door.”
I stride through the kitchen toward the front door.
“Mase, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Owen states. “Really not a good idea, man.” Confusion swirls inside me, and I glance down at my phone and swing open the door.
Tara stands before me with tears streaking her face. My first reaction is to check outside for what’s caused her to cry.
But what the hell is she doing here? Anger boils inside me.
