Undesired Lust

by Eden Summers

  “See.” Justin raised a taunting brow as she turned to him. “He doesn’t care about you. He wants you gone.”

  Sidney nodded, giving him the acquiescence he craved. As he chuckled with mirth, she diverted her focus to the left of the room, eying the security panel at the entrance of the hall. All she needed to do was bridge the distance, and slam her hand against the button with all her might. One touch, that was it.

  Movement sounded in the hall, the soft ruffle of carpeting and the slide of clothing. She cleared her throat, trying to disguise the noise, and walked slowly toward the kitchen. Her whole body shook with each step. She paused, two feet from the kitchen, one foot from the panic button, and found Sean standing, leaning against the wall, his mouth and nose covered in blood, his eyes barely focused.

  She raised her chin, holding in her tears. Fear and panic were consuming her, making it hard to think clearly as she took a final look over her shoulder at Justin.

  “What?” he barked. “Hurry up.” He continued to aim the gun at Mason’s head and shuffled toward her.

  Shit. There was no choice to make, her window of opportunity was closing. Flinging out her arm, she whacked the panic button, sending the room into a mass of hysterical sirens.

  “Stupid bitch!”

  Pain exploded in the back of her head as he yanked her by her hair. She screamed, struggling to stay on her feet. He flung her around, her back to his chest, his strong arm around her throat, holding her in place.

  Her eyes began to burn at Mason’s apologetic gaze. He was distraught, his body set to pounce even though the gun barrel was hovering around his heart. She struggled to breathe—the arm too tight around her throat, the weight of guilt clogging her lungs. Justin dragged her backward, heading for the entrance of the hall, muttering curses and incoherent words while the siren blared.

  “Back off,” he yelled, the gun shaking in his hand. “Back off or I’ll shoot.”

  Mason’s vision scanned from the gun, to Justin’s face, frantically taking in each movement before briefly slipping over her shoulder, to the place where she expected Sean would be. Mason inclined his head, acknowledging Justin’s demand, but she knew better.

  “Don’t,” she pleaded. She didn’t want any more blood on her hands. She’d already caused enough damage by trusting the wrong man. This wasn’t Mason’s fault for taking the video. It wasn’t Sean’s fault for flying off the handle two years ago. This was her fault. She’d brought Justin into their lives, setting wheels in motion that could get one of them killed. “Mason, please.”

  He grinned at her. It wasn’t devilish, it wasn’t arrogant, it was sweet, an I-love-you-kitten grin that made her want to sob.

  “Please don’t,” she pleaded, her eyes watering. He was blurring before her, his gorgeous face morphing under a rush of emotion. She blinked away the tears, releasing them to fall down her cheeks.

  He didn’t listen. He mouthed the words “I’m sorry,” then lunged.

  ***

  MASON’S SHOULDER RAMMED into Justin’s a second after Sean barreled the asshole from behind. There was a mass of arms flying through the air, Sidney’s dark hair tangling around them as she screamed.

  They fell to the ground, the gun popping on impact. The muted sound echoed loud in Mason’s ears and the cloud of gunpowder burned his eyes. It was surreal, the collision hitting harder than he anticipated. He’d landed on something solid, an elbow or a hip, he couldn’t decipher. The pain in his gut was excruciating, working its way to every inch of his body as he climbed onto his hands and knees.

  Sidney scampered to safety, Sean replacing her position on Justin’s chest. The asshole’s arm reached out near Mason’s side. The gun was there, resting on the carpet, blood drops scattered around it. Justin’s fingers inched closer as Mason dived to pick up the weapon and slide it under the sofa to the other side of the room.

  “Sonofabitch.” Justin clawed for Mason’s face, his effort cut off by the slam of Sean’s fist against the man’s jaw. His head snapped to the side, the energy leaving his body momentarily before he bucked with all his might, trying to move Sean off his chest. “Sidney, help me.”

  “Like hell.” Sean swung again, hitting harder, the crack of bone against bone sounding over the alarm.

  Mason rolled to the side and struggled to pull himself to his knees. Sidney stood at their feet, in a daze, staring at Sean pummeling Justin’s face.

  “Get out of here.” Mason yanked her cell from his pocket and volleyed it at her. She fumbled to catch it, and then met his gaze. “Go on. Get help.” Mason needed her gone. She had enough burdens to bear without having these images to haunt her dreams.

  She gave a dull nod and looked straight through him, her feet rooted to the floor.

  “Go!”

  She startled, her hand flying to her throat. “OK. OK.” She blinked the daze from her eyes and ran for the hall.

  The alarm cut off as the apartment door slammed shut, the one-minute timer already up. Help was on the way—the police, hotel security, his surveillance company, and hopefully an ambulance.

  “Mace,” Sean’s voice was weak. “I…can’t…”

  Sean lolled to the side, his swings no longer making an impact. Fuck. Mason climbed to his feet, adrenaline rushing through his veins. His insides protested, the impact from the fall still making his midsection scream.

  “I’ve got him.” Mason helped Sean to lie on the ground and took up the vacant position on Justin’s chest. The asshole was out cold, blood covering his face and bruises already forming, still, it wasn’t enough. Fury burned deep, heating Mason’s eyes and choking his chest.

  He swung, landing a blow to the guy’s cheek, his knuckles not even feeling the impact. For what he’d done to Sidney, he deserved to suffer. He deserved to die. Mason just wished the guy was conscious to be able to feel it. Another swing, another impact and Justin’s head swayed to the other side.

  “You son of a bitch.” Another swing, more heat scorching his eyes, more pain consuming his belly. He kept landing blow after blow, seeing Sidney’s devastated face in his mind the entire time.

  Sweat dampened his shirt, the material clinging to him, the liquid seeping into his jeans. The adrenaline started to ebb and the corners of his vision became dark. He tried to blink it away, determined to keep focused even though his strength was fading. The heavy stench of blood filled his nose, consuming everything—his thoughts, his taste, his smell.

  “Mason.”

  Sidney’s voice was frantic, and he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. The shadows were creeping in. The pain around his stomach increasing.

  Sean was at his side, sleeping like a lamb. Blood trickled from his already swollen nose, pooling on the cream covered carpet. He probably should’ve been pissed at the stain, the carpet was fucking expensive, but he couldn’t find the annoyance. All he wanted was sleep.

  “Mason, you’re bleeding.”

  Sidney was at his side. He jolted with her proximity, not realizing her fingers were wrapped around his bicep until he looked down to see them there. Then his vision lowered, to the liquid staining his shirt, which definitely wasn’t sweat.

  “Oh, my god, you’ve been shot.”

  Mason could’ve laughed. His life was playing out before him, his reality somewhat detached from whatever the fuck was going on. He stared at the round hole of missing material in his shirt, fascinated with how the blood oozed from the opening. Wasn’t it meant to spray, or gush? The sight was trippy. He hadn’t felt this high in years.

  “Help is on the way.”

  “Thanks, kitten.” He was slurring. Too tired to form words. His heartbeat was echoing in his ears, slow and lethargic. His lids drifted shut, and he felt himself begin to sway. After all the drama and bullshit lately, he really deserved a nap.

  “Mason, please,” she sobbed.

  God, he loved her voice, like angels or strippers or something equally enticing. He could see her in his mind—her beautiful eyes, the l
ong, silky strands of her hair. He never thought women like her existed. “I love you.”

  She was crying now. Screaming. He could hear her in his dreams, yet no matter how much he wanted to wipe away the tears he knew were drifting down her cheeks, he couldn’t pull himself out of the darkness overtaking him.

  SIDNEY SAT AT Mason’s bedside, unable to drag her eyes away from his pale skin. It haunted her, keeping her mind and body on full alert waiting for the moment when all the machines surrounding him would alarm.

  The doctors had told her not to panic. They were optimistic of his full recovery. He wasn’t even in the Intensive Care Unit. But nothing they told her sunk in. Nothing would, until his skin quit being a deathly shade of white, and he finally opened his eyes and spoke to her.

  He’d been shot, the bullet puncturing his liver, causing severe internal bleeding. She couldn’t wipe the image from her mind. Then there were the fractured ribs and bruised face from Justin’s beating, and the swollen knuckles from when Mason paid him back.

  She needed to stop thinking about it. Soon she’d start sobbing, and she didn’t want to wake Sean, who slept in the hospital bed on the other side of her. Sidney wasn’t entirely sure how Leah pulled it off. The woman was a gem, working her managerial magic and arranging for Sean to be placed in the same room. Their injuries differed vastly—Sean suffering a severe concussion and broken nose. But Leah’s phenomenal negotiating skills and a promise of a substantial donation had enabled the two best friends to be placed side by side, and additional staff handy to keep a watchful eye.

  Sidney had remained with them, wallowing in her loneliness and fear, while Leah and the remaining Reckless Beat members kept vigil in the waiting room. The media had already surrounded the building. On occasion, she could hear females screaming out to Mason and Sean, sending calls of love and other inappropriate things. Soon, they’d be crying out for Sidney’s blood, holding her accountable, and that was fine. The burden was hers to bear. All she wanted was for these two men to make a full recovery. She no longer gave a shit what the rest of the world had to say. Their opinions didn’t matter.

  Nothing did. Except the men in this room.

  In the hours spent waiting, Sidney found a friend in Leah. The woman was phenomenal—calling family, friends, and anyone else who needed to be aware of the situation. She kept her chin high the whole time, cracking jokes, and keeping Sidney entertained even though tears shone in her eyes.

  Ryan, Mitch, and Blake had come into the room briefly, but none of them wanted to stick around. Devastation was clear on their faces. They were in shock, unable to speak, on the verge of losing the masculine bravado men seemed to hide so well behind. Each of them took the time to hug her, though, to whisper kind words in her ear, and make sure she didn’t hold herself accountable.

  She spent the passing minutes entirely grateful for the people in Mason’s life. They were his family. And maybe one day, if she was lucky, they would be hers too. Sidney could no longer fathom walking away. She wanted to create a future with Mason, publicity scandals and all.

  Resting her head on the mattress beside Mason’s knee, she lazily glanced from one man to the next. They were best friends, both of them willing to risk their lives for her. There was no way to explain her gratitude, or her love.

  Sean groaned, his hands climbing from his waist to rest on his chest. Sidney stood and moved to his side, waiting, holding her breath until he slowly blinked open his eyes. The white bandage on his nose did nothing to diminish the beauty of his deep-blue irises focusing back at her. “Hey, big guy.”

  “Sweetheart,” he croaked, and then cleared his throat.

  She reached for a glass of water from the bedside and held it out to him.

  “No, thanks.” He shook his head, wincing, and the bandage on his face crinkled. “Fuck. I feel like someone has put my brain in a blender.”

  “I can call a nurse?”

  “No.” He closed his eyes briefly, and repositioned his shoulders with subdued movements. “How’s Mace?” His head lolled to the side, taking in the sight of his best friend. “Damn, he looks like shit. Is he going to be OK?” His light tone didn’t disguise the fear in his eyes. “I—I don’t remember much. It hurts to think.”

  “He was shot.” The words lodged in her throat, and she swallowed to make it easier to breathe. “The doctors say he’s doing well. He lost a lot of blood and part of his liver had to be removed.” She shrugged, trying to play off the seriousness when in reality she wanted to sob over how close he came to death. “They think he’ll make a full recovery and are hopeful his liver will regenerate.”

  “Fuck.” The curse was a heavy breath as Sean lifted his hand to rub it through his short cropped hair. “I don’t mean to be pessimistic, but if I was his liver, and had to put up with the amount of shit he puts in his body, I’d say fuck you to regeneration.”

  Sidney smiled. He was trying to make her laugh, and she appreciated the gesture. She just couldn’t bring herself to be happy while Mason was lying there, unmoving.

  Sean lowered his hand, holding it out to her. “How are you doing?”

  “I wasn’t hurt at all.” She stepped closer, clutching his fingers around hers.

  “That’s not what I asked.” He squeezed her hand, his eyes reading her. “How are you holding up? What happened with Justin?”

  Sidney pressed her lips together and focused on Mason. She didn’t know how she was holding up. One minute, she was determined to make something of her future, the next she was poised to fall to the floor in a mass of heaving sobs. All she knew was she didn’t want to talk or think about the man who tried to kill Mason, ever again. He was dead to her. End of story.

  “Sid?”

  She sucked in a deep breath and met Sean’s calm stare. “All I know is that he’s here somewhere. Under police watch. As soon as he’s able, they’ll put him in a cell and hopefully throw away the key.”

  “Are you OK with that?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, are you coping with the…”

  “Betrayal?” she offered. “With the realization of how completely stupid I was?” She shrugged. “I’ll deal.” There was no other choice.

  Sean continued to read her, those deep blue irises seeing right through her, touching her heart. “Well, if you ever want to talk, I’ll make sure you always know where to find me.”

  Now she chuckled, the puff of an exhale pushing past her lips in an effort to stop herself from crying. His thoughtfulness astounded her. In the state he was in, he should be more concerned about his own problems. Not those of someone who walked away unscathed. He was such a great man, with a huge heart. He deserved happiness, and guilt consumed her over not being able to give it to him.

  “I’m so sorry, Sean.” She rested her hip against the mattress and leaned into him, running a gentle palm along his jaw. He was handsome, so strong, and giving. “I wish I loved you the way you needed me to.”

  He closed his eyes at her touch, tilting his face into her palm. “Darlin’, don’t worry about me. As long as you’re happy, then so am I.” His dark lashes fluttered open. “Look after him, OK? The asshole deserves it.”

  Sidney lowered her head to his shoulder, and nodded. If Mason wanted her, she would do whatever possible to make their relationship work. Long moments passed in silence with Sean’s breathing becoming heavier. When she pulled back, his eyes were closed, his face peaceful from sleep or pretense, she didn’t know. The conversation couldn’t be easy for him. It wasn’t easy for her. Either way, she wanted to leave him in peace, and hopefully time would change his feelings for her.

  ***

  MASON BLINKED THE tiredness from his lids. His mouth was dry, his limbs heavy, and the dull thud in his brain was a welcome realization that he wasn’t sporting a halo. He was in a hospital room, the lights dimmed, with very little sound. Sean lay in a hospital bed to his left, his face partially covered with a bandage over his nose. Then there was Sidney. His beautiful woman had her fingers entwined
with his, her head rested on the mattress near his hip.

  “Kitten.” Her name grated up his throat. He fought to lift his hand, to reach over his body and stroke her tangled hair, but the tightness around his mid-section made him stop. Reality rushed in, remembered images, sounds and smells all pushing to the forefront. Fuck. He’d been shot.

  Yay, him. He dropped the asshole routine for once, and risked his life for someone else. Well, not just anyone else, the woman of his dreams, and his best friend. As far as good deeds went, his was fucking stellar.

  “She became more anxious the longer it took for you to wake up. So Leah gave her a mild sedative,” Ryan’s low voice drifted from the doorway. “How you doin’?”

  Mason tried to smile, finding the slight curve of his lips an arduous task. “I don’t know. I’m alive. I guess that’s a good thing. How is Sean?”

  “Severe concussion and a broken nose. You’re both lucky.”

  Mason’s stomach begged to differ, but he wasn’t going to argue. All he had to do was lower his gaze to Sidney to realize how blessed he was. “You look exhausted, Ry. You should go home.”

  Ryan broke eye contact, lazily scanning the room as he nodded.

  “Wanna talk?” Mason was drowsy, fighting the pull of sleep so he could comfort his friend. Ryan was hurting, over the shooting, or the standard marriage issues, Mason didn’t know, and he wouldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

  “I’ve been thinkin’, you know, about everything—life, marriage, career.” He let out a deep sigh, and scrubbed a hand along his short beard. “You guys scared the hell out of me. It made me realize I need to make some changes.”

  “You need to be happy.”

  Ryan gave a weary nod and finally made eye contact. “Are you happy?”

  Mason released a breath of laughter, and then winced at the dull pull in his stomach. Whatever damage lay covered beneath his sheet was going to hurt like a bitch once the painkillers wore off. “This isn’t the best time to be askin’.”