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Everly (Striking Back #1)

Page 13

by S. M. Shade

His laptop rests on his desk, and I turn it on. Curiosity gets the best of me while I wait for it to boot up. He thinks my father’s alive. There must be paperwork, reports or something that shows why. I’ve barely had time to consider that with all that’s happened.

  With a quick glance at the door, I open the left hand desk drawer. It’s filled with pens, pencils, and general office supplies. I can hear Mason on the phone in the living room, so I still have time. The right drawer contains a few file folders, marked with six digit numbers. On top of them is a plain white envelope.

  When I pick it up, the flap opens and the contents spill onto my lap and slide to the floor. I’ve heard the expression ‘my blood ran cold’ but never understood it until now. I feel as if I’ve been dipped in liquid nitrogen and the smallest move will shatter me into a thousand sharp pieces.

  Passports, at least a dozen, all with women’s pictures. Social Security cards, driver’s licenses, birth certificates. What the fuck is this? What kind of business is he running?

  He’s still on the phone, and I creep to the door to eavesdrop. “Got three girls, clothes on their backs. Going to need a runner. No…no, it has to be tonight. I text you the address. Yeah, same deal, twenty-five grand each. Call me when it’s done.”

  Oh God. Oh Fuck. Money for women, fake documents. He’s not saving women, he’s selling them. Human trafficking. That’s how he makes his money. What kind of monster have I been seeing? I have to get out of here. Who knows what he’ll do to me if he knows I found out.

  He ends his call, and I know there’s no time to clean up the evidence. Panicking, I kick it all under the desk and dart from the office, closing the door behind me. “Hey, you ready for bed?” Mason approaches me, and I do my best not to stiffen up when he embraces me. I can’t let on anything is wrong.

  “Sure, just let me grab a glass of water.”

  His whole face is a question mark when he steps back and regards me. “Everything okay?”

  “Of course, it’s just been a long day. Go get naked. I’ll join you in a minute.”

  “Hurry,” he whispers, squeezing my ass.

  I have to swallow the urge to vomit. How many women has he stolen? How many sent to be raped on the other side of the world? No wonder he travels, disappears for a week at a time. I force a smile, and he heads off down the hall. Now is my only chance. I slam on my shoes and flee out the front door. My heart jumps into my throat when an alarm begins to blare. Shit, I forgot about the security alarm.

  I don’t have my car, so I run like the hounds of hell are chasing me. When Mason first brought me here, I loved how isolated his home was. Now I know why. My footsteps echo down the darkened street and I try not to look back and slow myself down. I have no intention of being the dumb bimbo who trips and twists her ankle, allowing the psycho murderer to catch up.

  If I can just get to the guard shack, somewhere where there are witnesses, I’ll feel safer. I can call the cops, or Ian, or…I don’t know. I can’t think straight. My side is splitting and there’s no sign of anyone coming after me, so I veer to the right, jumping a fence into the yard of an empty house with a for sale sign on the lawn. I just need to catch my breath. My hand is stinging and I vaguely notice blood dripping from my palm. I must’ve sliced it on the fence. My breathing slows a little as I lean against the house, shrouded in shadow. One minute, and I’ll keep going.

  How could he do this? I think of the past month we’ve spent together. His sweet smile when he watched me with the baby panda at the zoo, the way he played with Matty on his birthday, how he cared for me when I was hurt. I can’t relate that man with the one who kidnaps women and sells them into sexual slavery.

  I’ve seen some Alpha male behavior, of course. Tracking me down at the racetrack when I wouldn’t call him back, having his security follow me without my knowledge when he thought I was in danger, beating the shit out of Danny when he attacked me. I know he’s tough, and likes to be in control, especially in bed, which has been amazing, but I never saw the monster in him. Am I that blind, or is he that charming?

  Why would he spend all this time making me fall in love with him? To what end? If he just wanted to fuck me, he had that. If he was out to kidnap me for his slave trade, he’s had more than enough opportunity. Why take me to Turkey Run to make love under the stars or spend tonight taking goofy pictures at the carnival? I guess even psychopaths need company. Maybe he really does care about me, but it doesn’t matter now. I could never be with such a horrible person, and he has to know I won’t just go about my life letting him torture women while hiding behind a charity. He’ll sell me or kill me. I have to get away.

  My chest locks up as a hand falls over my mouth, and I’m dragged backwards through the yard. The taste of blood wets my tongue when I bite the hand pressed against my lips. “Fuck, calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” The voice doesn’t belong to Mason. He must’ve sent someone after me. It’s bullshit. If I can’t escape, I’ll either end up raped and chained in some third world dungeon or dead. I’ve seen the horror stories on television.

  His arms lock around me, and no matter how hard I fight, I can’t get loose. He shoves me into the driver’s side of Mason’s dark sedan and pushes me into the passenger seat. As soon as the car is moving, I dive out my door, rolling on the pavement before leaping to my feet to run.

  “Goddamn it!” he yells, slamming the car into park and darting after me. I don’t know why I bothered. I only get a few yards before I’m grabbed and thrown over his shoulder.

  “Please, let me go. I’ll never say anything. I just want to go home.”

  “Mr. Reed needs to speak with you.” He puts me on my feet behind the car and reaches to unlock the trunk. Panic squeezes my ribs and I stomp on his foot as hard as I can, twisting to try to get loose before he can lock me inside. “Fine,” he growls, and I feel the prick of a needle in my hip.

  “No…no.” My cries are fading along with my vision. A gray veil covers the world and I slump into the monster’s arms as the darkness swallows me.

  The End

  Please follow the conclusion of Mason and Everly’s story in Mason, Striking Back: Book Two. You can get it here. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00ZDT5A1M

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  Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

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  Special Thanks go to Lissa Jay and Jamie Lauritano for beta reading and saving me from embarrassing plot holes and ridiculous mistakes.

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