by Brooks, JB
She folded the page in half, slipped it into an envelope, sealed it, and wrote his name on the front. Then she showered, packed her meager belongings into her backpack, climbed into bed, and turned out the light. Sleep was a blessed escape.
***
The morning was a flurry of activity, but by quarter to seven, she was saying goodbye to George and Edna. The older woman enfolded her in a meaty hug.
“I’ll miss ya, sweetie. I’ve enjoyed having ya ’round. But I’m glad youse got everything sorted out. I told you he’s a good man. I hope we’ll see ya ’gain soon.”
“Thanks for all the wonderful food, Edna,” she replied evasively. “You take care.”
“Are you ready to go, Evvy?” asked Mason.
“I just need to pop into the powder room. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”
George and Edna followed Mason out to the car. She ran down the passage to his study, pulled the letter from her pocket, and placed it on his desk, front and center, smoothing it flat. Then she hurried outside before she could have second thoughts, and climbed into the Range Rover next to Mason.
The drive seemed interminably long, and they hardly spoke. She was afraid that at any moment he would announce that he’d changed his mind and turn the car around, and she clutched the arm of her seat and stared out the window as the trees flew past in a blur. She almost jumped out of her skin when he spoke.
“I’ve put my details onto your phone, Evvy. If you ever need anything—anything at all—you can call me.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
It would never happen.
When they arrived, he found a parking space and walked her into the terminal. He stayed with her, carrying her bag until they got to the security checkpoint. Then he turned to face her, his eyes unreadable.
“Well, this is it. Goodbye, Evvy.” His voice was husky.
“Goodbye, Mace.”
He didn’t release her bag. “Evvy? Can I kiss you?”
Her breath caught in her throat. His face was pale but his eyes burned into hers.
“Okay,” she whispered.
He put her bag down on the floor and drew her into his arms. For a long moment, he stared into her eyes, as if trying to fathom her mind, then he covered her mouth with his. His face was cold, but his taste overwhelmed her as he parted her lips with a sweep of his tongue. He surged into her mouth with his usual possessive confidence, but there was something slightly desperate about the way he explored her. She responded as strongly as ever, her body leaping to life, a flare of heat kindling in her pussy as she melted against his body, but all too soon he tore his lips away.
“Go,” he said roughly, wiping her mouth clean with his thumb. “Go while I can still let you.”
She picked up her bag and hurried to the gate, aroused and disconcerted, trying to ignore the knowing grins of the security staff as they checked her boarding pass and inspected her backpack.
The flight was just over an hour long, a routine and entirely uneventful hop, with barely enough time between takeoff and landing for the cabin crew to hand out snack packs and collect the litter. Evelyn was puzzled. Instead of finally feeling euphoric, now that she’d gotten clean away from Mason, she was numb. A stewardess was shaking her arm.
“We’re landing in fifteen minutes, ma’am. The seatbelt sign is on, so you need to do up your belt.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry about that, I didn’t notice.”
“Are you okay, ma’am? You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.”
The stewardess hurried off to help someone else, and Evelyn sank back into her chair. Landing was the worst part of flying for her. She always worried that after everything had gone smoothly, some dreadful accident would happen at the last minute. But today she was unable to summon the energy to feel nervous, and stared out the window with detachment as the ground rushed up to meet the plane. She wondered, dully, if she was in shock, or had posttraumatic stress or something. She would probably need some therapy.
She made her way through the airport robotically. What she really needed was closure. She wanted to end this unfortunate chapter in her life, so that she could move on, get back into her job, arrange her next trip, and reconnect with her friends and her patients at the counseling center.
She told the taxi driver to take her to the police station near her apartment, and gave him the street name. The sooner she laid the charges against Mason and jumped through whatever legal hoops were required to see him suitably punished, the sooner she could forget about him and get back to normal.
When they arrived, she paid her fare and plodded up the front stairs of the police station, her backpack heavy on her shoulder. There, two officers on duty were busy with other people. Several more occupied the waiting area. She sighed and sat down, balancing her bag on her knees, thinking she might dig out her new phone and take a look at it. It was obviously going to be quite a wait before it was her turn.
She unzipped the pack then changed her mind. The phone reminded her too much of Mason—not that she wasn’t thinking about him all the time anyway. She didn’t want to see the envelope full of cash either. She squeezed her eyes shut. God, she felt crappy! She was exhausted and aching.
Maybe she’d only tell the police about the kidnapping. She seemed to remember reading that if you reported a rape, you had to have a physical examination for evidence in support of your case. After everything she’d done with Mason, there would be no shortage of evidence on and in her body, but the last thing she felt like was being prodded and poked by a doctor, especially down there.
She studied the others surreptitiously, wondering why they were there, and if they felt as miserable about their problems as she did. The elderly man sitting opposite didn’t look unhappy; he seemed very relaxed, reading a newspaper. But a young couple sat a few seats to the left of him, and the girl looked very upset, her face stained with tears as she huddled within the boy’s sheltering arm. He leaned toward her, every line of his body concerned and protective, bending his head to whisper in her ear, and covering her hands with one of his, where they lay clenched in her lap. Whatever the girl’s misfortune was, she didn’t have to face it alone. That boy would stand by her, and she could draw on his strength and take comfort in his care for her.
Evelyn felt a stab of envy. Her own task would be so much easier, and she’d feel so much stronger, if Mason was beside her, supporting her and lending her his—
She froze, literally stopped breathing, as shock coursed through her entire body, shaking her like an earthquake. What was she thinking? She was here to report Mason to the police, but she was wishing he was with her. To help her? To comfort her? The muscles in her chest and stomach had turned to petrified wood. She was sure she’d never manage to suck in a breath of air again. She was going to die horribly…from stupidity.
She clutched frantically at her backpack, trying to clamp down the roiling wave of nausea rising from her belly to her throat. When the hell had it happened? She’d been so busy pretending to love him that she hadn’t noticed when she’d really fallen for him. Hadn’t bloody noticed?
She shook, in huge, violent tremors. Escaping had been such an all-consuming obsession that she hadn’t realized she didn’t want to leave him. What was wrong with her?
And that letter. Oh god, she’d left him that awful letter! Her backpack crashed off her lap as she sprang to her feet, only to collapse to her knees as pain wrenched through her gut. He liked her, she knew it. He’d been trying to tell her on the way to the airport, trying to make her understand that he wanted to see her again. Well, that would change when he read the letter.
A police officer appeared next to her, crouching down to grip her arm and shoulder, frowning in concern.
“What’s going on, miss? Do you need an ambulance?”
She shook her head and finally drew a huge gasp of air into her twisted lungs.
“Not ambulance… Plane,” she wheezed. “I need to get ba
ck to Rockhampton!” Somehow she had to stop Mason from reading that letter!
She scrambled to her feet, relieved that her body could move properly again, and snatched up her backpack.
“I’m fine,” she told the astonished policeman, “but I have to go!” She ran out of the police station and sprinted up the road, dodging other pedestrians. Her apartment was only three blocks away, and a few minutes later she fumbled her key from the zipped compartment in her pack where she always stowed it, and fitted it into the lock of her front door with fingers that could barely grip.
Without looking left or right, she darted to the table where her computer stood and wrenched the lid open, watching the screen flicker to life. She waited while it connected to the Internet, seething with impatience, then went to the Qantas website, running a search for flights to Rockhampton with immediate availability.
Damn, the earliest ticket she could get was for a flight at twenty-five past four that afternoon! That was way too late. It was only half past eleven now. But wait, there was a business-class seat available at half past three. Still too late, but better! She paid the exorbitant price with her credit card and printed the e-ticket while working out the times backward in her head. If the flight left at half past three, she would have to be at the airport by three, so she would have to catch a taxi by two o’clock.
She had two and a half hours to go. Two and a half agonizing hours of waiting before she could take action. Mason was going to find the letter long before she got there!
***
Mason watched Evelyn’s plane take off through the windows of the departure lounge, and felt as if a piece of himself was flying away with it. Letting her go was the hardest thing he’d ever done, and he was already cursing himself for not saying more, doing more, while he had the chance. Now who knew if he’d ever see her again?
After their session yesterday, when she’d slept in his arms on the picnic blanket, he realized that he’d fallen in love with her. Guilt had opened a door and she’d slipped into his carefully guarded heart and stolen a big piece of it. Buying her plane ticket almost killed him, but what choice did he have? Nothing real could ever grow between them whilst he kept her prisoner. He had to let her go and pray she’d come back to him of her own free will, even though there wasn’t much chance of it.
But he couldn’t shake the thought that he could have done more to further his own cause, to give her an indication of his feelings. Maybe he could still take action. On impulse, he took out his phone and typed a text to her.
Evvy, I’ve fallen in love with you. If there’s any chance you feel the same, please call me. Mason.
He cringed at the thought of what her reaction might be, but hit Send anyway. If he never heard from her again, it wouldn’t be because she didn’t know how he felt. There was nothing else he could do right now. Her phone was switched off and stowed in her backpack, so she’d only get the message after she landed in Brisbane.
He left the airport building and walked slowly to the Range Rover, aware that he wasn’t looking forward to returning home now that Evelyn wasn’t at the house. He shrugged. He’d bury himself in his work. That’s how he’d coped after Bianca. Work had kept him sane.
He called a greeting to Edna as he came in, and hurried to his office, pausing when he saw the letter on his desk. It could only be from Evelyn. His heart started to pound, and he picked up the envelope with a shaking hand, hoping for a wild and breathless moment that she’d left him a love letter.
He read it three times before the meaning sank in. He stared in horrified disbelief at the harsh words then let the paper fall from his nerveless fingers. This was worse—far, far worse—than he’d ever imagined.
He sat down behind his desk, fearing that his legs would give way. She’d played him for a fool right from the start. But how had he misjudged her so completely? He, who was such a good judge of character! Her passion, her pleasure in what they had done, the orgasms he’d drawn from her body—he could have sworn they, at least, were real. How was it possible for her to have feelings so vastly different from his?
Coldness and pain swept over him, then anger. Hopes and dreams that he hadn’t been aware of building up, came crashing down in pathetic ruins. He lowered his head to the surface of his desk, pressing his forehead to the smooth, cool wood. Goddamn it, he was such a fucking idiot!
And he’d sent her a text saying that he loved her. He pulled out his phone and looked at the message again, nausea and disgust churning in the pit of his stomach. In a sudden burst of agonizing rage, he hurled the offending gadget across the room where it cracked into a bookshelf with a crunch and burst into pieces…like his heart.
Not only were his feelings unrequited, she was also going to the police. All his efforts had been for nothing. His family would be shamed and, depending on what she told them, his brother might also be in trouble for helping him kidnap her. It was time to stop thinking about himself and to focus on damage control.
There was only one thing he could do, and he should have done it right from the start. He’d go to the police and turn himself in before Evelyn could press charges and have him arrested. If he explained his side of the story first, and exonerated Owen from any blame, he might be able to salvage some control of the situation. At least it would show the police that he was willing to be cooperative. Then he’d hire a good lawyer and try to keep the whole case out of court and the news, and himself out of prison.
He sprang to his feet. He didn’t know how much time he’d have before she made her move, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t wait long. Now that he’d decided on a course of action, he had to get busy.
He picked up Evelyn’s letter and went in search of George and Edna. He found them at their cottage, preparing lunch. He showed them the letter and outlined his plan.
“Are ya sure?” asked George, his weathered face creasing into a worried frown. “Why not just wait and see what happens? Maybe she’ll change her mind.”
“I don’t think she will, George,” answered Mason, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose where a headache was forming. “I’ve underestimated her in every possible way. I can’t afford to do that again.”
“Well, I overestimated her,” snorted Edna. “I thought she was smart enough to see what was right under her nose. She’s gonna be kicking herself for the rest of her life over this.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mason.
“That girl’s in love with ya. I know it like I know my own face in the mirror! But only God knows what’s going on in that head of hers to write this rubbish!” She flicked the letter impatiently. “Ya should just wait. She’ll come ’round.”
Mason laughed grimly. “I think she fooled you too, Edna. That letter’s not confused or uncertain. She knows what she wants, and it’s to see me strung up by my balls!”
“That’s your own hurt talking now, Mace. Ya got feelings for her too, hey?” Edna’s beady eyes were knowing, and George was nodding in agreement.
“It’s totally irrelevant,” snapped Mason. “I came to tell you what’s going on so if I don’t come home tonight due to being fucking arrested, you know what’s happened. I’m leaving now. And don’t bother calling me, my phone’s broken.”
He stormed out of the cottage and gunned the Range Rover down the drive.
***
Evelyn sat at the table and racked her brains. She’d packed a suitcase and booked a taxi to the airport. Surely there was something else she could do? She couldn’t just sit around for over two hours thinking about Mason finding the letter. She’d go mad. Oh, if only she hadn’t written the bloody thing!
Suddenly she remembered her new phone. Mason had said that he’d added himself to her contacts. She could phone him, and tell him that she’d made a dreadful mistake. Maybe she could even catch him before he read it.
Her backpack was next to the front door. She dug out the phone and turned it on. His name was there in her contacts, and as she was about to dial
, a text message from him popped up, and the phoned pinged. She opened it, and her eyes filled with tears as she read it. He’d come out and said it—he loved her! He wanted to see her again! She checked the time on the message; he must have sent it right after they parted at the airport. He would never have typed such revealing thoughts if he’d seen the letter. It was going to make things even worse when he found it.
She closed the text and pressed the green button to dial him, holding her breath while it rang. His voice message service answered. Damn! She dropped the call and tried again, but the same recorded message greeted her.
This is Mason Brady. I can’t take your call right now. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.
“Mason, it’s Evelyn. Please ignore that letter on your desk. It’s a terrible mistake. I’m coming back to Rockhampton this afternoon and I’ll explain everything. I love you too, Mason. Please, please forgive me.”
She hung up and swore. Couldn’t one damn thing go right? Why was his phone off at this hour of the day?
Suddenly she had an idea. Returning to her computer, she used her work email address and password to log on to the university intranet, and typed “Owen Brady” into the search bar.
To her relief, his student profile popped up, and as a member of the faculty, she could see his contact number. She dialed it, praying that he’d answer his phone.
“Hiya, Owen speaking.”
“Oh, thank god!”
“What? Who’s this?”
“Owen, it’s Evelyn Maier. You know, Mason’s Evelyn?”
“Of course! How’re ya going?”
“I’m having a bit of an emergency actually. I need to get hold of Edna or George really urgently. Have you got their numbers?”
“Sure.” His voice was concerned. “But are you all right? Is Mason okay?”
“As far as I know he’s fine. Everyone’s fine—it’s not that kind of emergency.” She prayed it was true.