by Karen Kirst
“Please, leave Mason out of this. I’ll go home with you. I’ll do whatever you say, I promise. Just don’t hurt him.”
He sniffed, as if she was emitting a foul stench. “You’re of no worth to us any longer, Tessa.”
* * *
Mason’s head felt too heavy for his body. His vision, when he first opened his eyes, was blurry. When it cleared, he got a nasty dose of reality. They were at the Mafia prince’s mercy. Not a good place to be. But they were alive, and he was intent on keeping them that way.
Tessa was close enough that their feet almost touched. Above her shoe, the flesh was pink and swollen. The blood on her shirt was dark, the torn material matted to her body, hinting that the wound had crusted over. When Mason’s gaze landed on the fresh welts on her neck, fury funneled through him. He strained at the ropes, struggled to free his wrists and ankles.
Crouched beside her, Dante twisted toward Mason. “Ah, Sergeant Reed, you’re awake. Welcome to the reunion.”
“Get away from her.”
Dante laughed, and the other men in the room joined in. Tessa’s gaze begged him not to bring their wrath down on him. He closed his eyes and tried to calm the raging beast inside. What had he learned early on in his training? Out-of-control emotion would get him, his fellow officers and innocent civilians killed.
“I’m glad you’re awake. I was about to outline my plans for Lily.”
Mason’s eyes snapped open.
Dante’s self-satisfied air grated. “Once I’m done with you two, I’m going to take Lily home with me. I will raise her as if she were my own daughter.” Ignoring Tessa’s squeak of protest, he said, “I’ll make sure she doesn’t turn out like her mother—ungrateful and small-minded. No, Lily will be more like her Aunt Francesca, who understands the value of the Vitale legacy. Who knows? One day I may marry her to a business associate. Unlike her mother, she will do what’s best for the family.”
“You won’t be able to get to her,” Mason informed him. “My unit will guard her with their lives.”
His expression turned mocking. “I captured you and Tessa in a matter of days. I’ll have Lily before the week is out. Once I do, I’ll make sure she forgets you both. Day by day, week by week, year by year, I’ll erase her memories of you.”
Mason made the mistake of looking at Tessa. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks, and he felt them like rivers of burning acid over his heart.
God, I can’t fail her. I can’t fail our daughter. Please don’t let evil win.
Dante angled back to Tessa. “Sister dearest, it’s time for you to give me the information I seek. You recorded that long-ago conversation with Father. You know, the one that incriminated us for planning Officer Fisk’s death? Where is it? On a flash drive? Laptop?”
Her lips trembled. “There is no recording, Dante. Not in my possession. Fisk was listening in with his equipment. I was supposed to get the confession while he did the rest. You burst in before Father admitted his guilt.”
The skin around his eyes tightened, and the veins at his temples bulged. He lifted a hand in a silent signal. Tessa’s eyes widened as James stalked across the room and stood over Mason. He’d removed his dress shirt, but had been wearing a white cotton shirt underneath. His partner had stitched him up where Mason had clipped him.
James balled his fingers into an impressive fist, hauled back and slammed it into Mason’s face. Fire exploded in his cheek, and the force of the blow whipped his head to the left. His existing headache grew by leaps and bounds, but he forgot it when James’s boot connected with his ribs. Once. Twice. Three times. Mason felt the instant the bone gave under pressure.
Tessa’s pleas bordered on hysteria. He’d give anything to remove her from this equation, to spare her from her brother’s callous disregard for human life.
“Stop, Dante! You have to believe me. There is no evidence to be found! Didn’t you check Fisk’s belongings?”
He heard her gasp. Mason lifted his head. Dante’s hand cupped her throat, poised to cut off her air supply.
“Do you remember when I made you watch Skinny Walter’s murder?”
Her hands fisted on the cold cement. She swallowed convulsively.
“I will make you watch Sergeant Reed’s death if you don’t tell me. It won’t be merciful, I promise you.”
“Boss, Bruno’s upstairs,” James interrupted. “He’s got the food you asked for.”
Dante ignored him. “Tessa, I had one of my men search your place in Georgia. He didn’t find anything, which leads me to believe you brought it with you. When I finish my meal, I expect you to have a different answer. Understand?”
At her nod, he finally removed his hand and stood. He left the basement, closing the door at the top of the stairs and locking them in.
SIXTEEN
“Oh, Mason...” Tessa’s voice was thick with sorrow and regret. “If I could change the past—”
“You’re not to blame for his actions. Frankly, how you managed to escape his clutches in the first place is a mystery.” He shifted to get a better look around, unable to mask the pain vibrating through his midsection. As long as his busted rib hadn’t punctured a lung, he’d be okay. “We have to find a way out of here.”
“How? There’s no window. No weapons that I can see. Neither of us have a phone.” She rested her hands on her lap, and her brow furrowed. “Hold on.”
Tessa dug into her pants pocket and fished out a small silver object.
“Why do you have nail clippers in your pocket?”
She turned the clippers this way and that. “I trimmed Lily’s fingernails this morning...” Her eyes widened, and she began to clip at the thick rope holding her fast to the pole. “If I can get free, I can untie you.”
“We might have a chance.” A slim one, but he wasn’t going to discourage her.
Mason understood that if they did succeed, it would be God’s will that they do so. He understood what Daniel must’ve felt in the lion’s den, what Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego had felt entering that fiery furnace. Death was almost certain. Yet, God had other plans. Even though his and Tessa’s situation seemed impossible, He had the power and authority to make a way of rescue.
The boards creaked overhead as the men walked around. Occasionally, laughter would interrupt their conversation. How they could enjoy a meal, as if they weren’t about to commit murder, was beyond him. In his line of work, he’d encountered plenty of selfish, angry people who committed crimes for various reasons. Many of them had become slaves to drugs and alcohol, and addiction drove their actions. He hadn’t come across any that killed for sport. Unfortunately, Dante appeared to enjoy hurting others, and he paid his henchmen to do his bidding.
Watching Tessa chip away at those ropes, he realized the self-righteous anger he’d been nurturing since she’d returned was gone. The bitterness was gone. The past couldn’t be changed, his part or her part. Without those emotions to fuel his reactions, he was left with feelings for Tessa that had survived the breakup, feelings he couldn’t let overrule caution and sound judgment.
“Got one.” Tessa strained against the remaining strands. When they didn’t budge, she started in on another one.
Mason silently cheered her on while reexamining their surroundings. There wasn’t much that he could see that would help them fight their way out.
The minutes it took for her to free herself felt like days. He listened to the activity upstairs, trying to gauge how long they would linger over the meal. He didn’t want to imagine Dante’s reaction if he caught them in the middle of an escape attempt.
Tessa gave a small cry of triumph when she wriggled free. Hurrying over, she worked on untying his wrists. It took longer than it should have.
“My hands are sweaty,” she lamented, trying again to undo the knot.
“You’re doing fine.”
Finally, s
he succeeded. He instructed her to work on the knots tying him to the pole while he freed his ankles. The awkward angle exacerbated his rib pain. He gritted his teeth and worked faster. A chair slid across the floorboards in the room above them, and he wondered if that signaled their meal was over.
The knob jiggled. He and Tessa both froze. Someone called out, and footsteps moved away from the stairs. Her fingers flew into a frenzy. He felt the rope give way.
Moving around to his side, Tessa placed an arm around him and helped him to stand. His head felt too light for his body, and the room listed to the right.
“Mason?” she whispered, pressing close against him.
“I’m fine.”
Opening his eyes, he managed a tight smile. “We need a weapon.”
They quickly searched the space around the laundry organizer unit. Tessa motioned for him to follow her beneath the stairs. On the other side, there were numerous shelves that held jars of homemade jams and soups. In the corner, he located a broom. He whacked it against his knee, and the wooden handle snapped into two pieces.
“Mason, look.” Standing at a point by the middle of the cement wall, Tessa went on her tiptoes and tugged on a swath of thick fabric. As it fell away, a ground-level well-type window was revealed. That window evoked the first smile he’d seen on her face in ages.
Excited now, she retrieved a metal bucket from the corner, then turned it over, climbed up and shoved at the window. At first, it didn’t budge.
“Is it unlocked?”
“Yes. It’s just stuck.” Tessa wouldn’t give up. Nor would she let him help. The window began to open, inch by inch.
Sweat dampened the back of his neck. Would the men hear the occasional squeaks and investigate? As soon as the thought entered his mind, the upstairs door opened and closed. Someone began to descend into the basement.
Tessa whirled around and nearly toppled off the bucket. Mason put his finger to his lips. Wielding one half of the broken broom handle at chest level and gripping the other at his waist, he crept over to the stairs. Baldy got to the bottom and, noticing they weren’t where he’d left them, turned to alert the others. It was the opening Mason needed.
He jabbed the handle into the man’s stomach, knocking him back several steps. He used the second piece to whack his temple area with all the force he could muster. Baldy crumpled to the ground, unconscious but alive. Mason relieved him of his phone and weapon.
At his urging, Tessa climbed out first. He wriggled through and joined her on solid ground. Every breath delivered stabbing pain that radiated through his upper body. His head throbbed, making it difficult to concentrate.
She folded her hand into his and gazed at him with those beautiful hazel eyes—she was looking to him for direction. Tessa trusted him with her life.
He swiftly evaluated their surroundings. “We’ll stay with the tree line,” he said, pointing to the natural property border that curved around to the only road access. Once they had reached the relative safety of the woods, he said, “Did you see other homes during the ride in? Do you remember how far we are from the main road?”
“Several miles.” She frowned at him, concern and doubt written on her face. “This house is the last on this road. The owners must like their privacy.”
He squeezed her hand and released it. He fished the goon’s phone from his pocket. “Password protected. No surprise there. I can’t make a personal call, but I’m going to try to reach the authorities.”
He hit the emergency link and dialed 911. They continued walking while he spoke to the dispatcher. Tessa’s limp became more pronounced, and he shortened his strides.
Distant shouting announced their absence had been discovered. Tessa seized his arm, and he informed the 911 operator that he would have to put him on mute. At the sound of an approaching car, they crouched behind some underbrush. Mason removed Baldy’s revolver from his waistband.
Through a slender gap in the plants, he saw the sedan cruising at maybe five miles per hour. All the windows were rolled down, and Dante, Bruno and James were scouring both sides of the road, guns glinting in the sun. Baldy was slumped in the back seat, his eyes closed.
Tessa uttered faint snatches of a prayer.
The car jolted to a stop not far from their hiding place. And then the sirens echoed off the peaks above and through the cove. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Dante ordered James to drive.
Neither Mason nor Tessa dared breathe as the sedan disappeared from sight. The minutes ticked by. The sirens grew louder.
“Are they really gone?” She twisted toward him, hopeful yet wary.
Mason put away the weapon, then slowly got to his feet and inched to the road’s edge. “They’re really gone.”
With a joyful exclamation, she limped over to where he stood and threw her arms around his neck. Mason wrapped his arm around her lower back and buried his face in the curve of her shoulder.
The enormity of their close call threatened to overwhelm him. He’d been shot at before, by pumped-up drug users and petty thieves determined to avoid jail time. This encounter with Dante was on a different level. This was personal, and the man was cruel. No matter what, Mason had to prevent him from getting to Tessa again.
Mason lifted his head. She’d grown more beautiful during their time apart and, right now, there was no fear, no guilt, no wishing for a do-over. She was looking at him like she used to, like he filled her life with joy and meaning. He’d forgotten how easily she could make him feel like a superhero.
He carefully placed his hands on either side of her face, and then he kissed her full on the lips. Gently, sweetly, shyly. She leaned into him, and his ribs spasmed.
Mason pulled away as the first cruiser approached. After placing the gun on the ground, he held up his hands. He recognized the officer behind the wheel—Officer Jolene Hammond. She was quickly joined by two others. After getting the details, she stayed with them while the others pursued Dante. He borrowed her phone to call Silver. His friend had been trying to contact him and was audibly relieved to hear they were safe. Silver reassured him that Lily was as happy as a lark because Gia was catering to her every whim. The statement made Mason smile. His mom was born to be a grandmother.
An ambulance arrived and whisked them both to the hospital. Tessa was subdued during transport, and he couldn’t get a read on her. Was she overcome with fatigue? Shock? Or was it the kiss?
When they were alone, Mason would have to tell her nothing had changed. The moment of tenderness had been the result of intense gratitude that they’d escaped Dante’s clutches. He didn’t regret the kiss—it had been a healing balm after a harrowing day. He did regret any confusion his actions had caused her. He didn’t know what she envisioned for her future, didn’t know how she felt about him. One thing was for certain—friendship was the best they could hope for.
SEVENTEEN
Tessa counted the ceiling tiles to keep from drifting off. She couldn’t close her eyes. If she did, she’d see Dante’s sneering face again. She’d relive the terror of watching his goon hurt Mason.
There was a knock on the tiny corner room the ER staff had stuck her in. The security guard posted outside announced the visitor and waited for Tessa’s assent to admit her.
“Candace.”
The blonde strode inside, closed the door and hung a nondescript backpack on the doorknob. Her face was a study in concern. “I brought you a change of clothes.”
“Have you seen Mason?” Tessa scooted upright. “How is he?”
She perched on the lone chair and propped her purse on her knees. “I was with him just now. The doctor wants to keep him for one night, not only because of his head injury and busted ribs, but because of his recent smoke inhalation. As you might’ve guessed, my brother is insisting he will recuperate faster at home.” Her shadowed gaze held Tessa’s. “How are you?”
&nb
sp; Her fingers skimmed the bandage poking out from the hospital gown. “Happy they got the glass out of my wound relatively quickly. It needed a couple of stitches.” She gestured to the foot of the bed. “My ankle is merely sprained.”
“He told me what happened. I’d be a puddle on the floor right now. You’re a strong woman.”
“I’m a mess. I’d be a bigger mess if not for my faith.” God was her protector, her strength, her everything.
“It’s interesting that you and Mason both embarked on your faith journeys after your relationship imploded.”
“God used our hurt and disappointment to draw us to Him.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Do you think there’s a chance for reconciliation? You still care about each other. Don’t try to convince me otherwise.”
Tessa’s cheeks heated as she recalled Mason’s kiss. It had been the best of kisses and the worst of kisses. She’d sensed his iron-clad restraint as he held back four years’ worth of emotion. For her, that kiss hadn’t settled anything. It had spawned questions she was afraid to get answers to.
“I can’t answer that right now.”
Candace smiled. “That’s not an outright no.”
“You wouldn’t mind if Mason and I...?” She couldn’t put voice to her words. A second chance with Mason? Tessa hadn’t let herself entertain the possibility. Even now, she was afraid to hope.
“Do I have reservations? Not as many now that I know everything that transpired between you. My brother was the happiest he’s ever been when he was with you. These past years, he’s been going through the motions. Not professionally—his career challenges him and gives him great satisfaction. His personal life is another story. He’s never gotten over you, Tessa. And now, you share this amazing little girl. Surely you could work things out.”
“You’re excited to be an aunt, aren’t you?”