“Hey,” she said, softly surprised.
I gave her a small smile, slipping onto a stool at the counter. I hadn’t been in here since my weird nightmare relapse the other week, but Taryn had all of my focus tonight. I felt nothing could pull it away from her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, offering me the coffee pot. I nodded, and she flipped a mug and set it on the counter. “I wasn’t really expecting…” She drifted off, looking away.
That reticence was my fault. “I was seeing a friend,” I told her meaningfully.
“Oh,” she breathed, understanding perfectly. “How did it go?”
“Pretty well.”
She seemed pleased to hear that, at least. “Great.” Things still felt cool between us, an awkwardness I wasn’t sure how to break. I considered that it shouldn’t be broken, that parting like this might be easier than parting with a kiss.
“You spoken to Anna recently?” I asked her.
“Yeah, she was in here earlier today.”
“I need to see her,” I admitted. “What d’you think? Will I get another slap?”
Taryn snorted, covering her mouth when a customer looked up. “I’d bet on it.”
“You would, yeah.”
She kept on smiling and I was grateful for it. “I could give you her and Ethan’s address if you’d like. I’d have to warn her you were coming, though, because I’d be a terrible friend if I didn’t.”
“I’d appreciate that. The first part, anyway.”
“Why do you need to see her so urgently?” Taryn asked curiously.
I thought about telling Taryn I could be leaving any day now—wasn’t that what I came here to do, after all?—but I couldn’t choke out the words all of a sudden. They seemed to get crushed in my throat, my whole body rejecting them.
I knew the kind of look it might put on her face and I just couldn’t do it, not so soon after seeing her smile.
“She’s my sister,” I said simply.
Taryn nodded. She pulled a napkin out of the container and a pen from her apron, and she scribbled an address out.
She slid it across to me and I put my hand over hers, pressing down for a moment. I saw Taryn swallow thickly. The heat of her skin soaked into the underside of my palm and spread outwards, up my arm and into my chest.
I heard her breath hitch before she spoke. “Are you going right now?”
“I should, yeah.”
“You should,” she agreed softly.
Still, I kept my hand on hers, the napkin pinned to the counter. What was I doing? There were so many mixed signals flying I was surprised either of us knew which way was up anymore.
I’d never felt the trajectory of my life as acutely as I did in that moment. All the things that led us here, all of my mistakes and all of Taryn’s forgiveness and understanding.
I wondered what I’d change, if I could.
I looked up from our joined hands as something on the wall behind the counter caught my eye.
It was pretty big and rainbow-bright, my daughter’s name scribbled proudly along the bottom. It hadn’t been here the last time I was.
Taryn turned, looking back at me anxiously. “Daisy drew it. She’d been working on it for a while.”
It was very clearly a picture of Taryn, Anna, Ethan, and little Daisy. They were holding hands, standing in a vivid green field scattered with flowers and cherry blossoms. The background had a smiley-faced sun and puffy white clouds, a huge rainbow streaked across a blue sky. This was my little girl’s family portrait, shining happiness in every pencil stroke.
I couldn’t breathe for a moment. I felt like I’d been stabbed in the gut and I realized I was squeezing Taryn’s hand.
“She’s real talented,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“Mason…”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s a great picture. She’ll be a hell of an artist one day, you just watch.”
Taryn’s expression was achingly tender, pity in the glossiness of her eyes and the slant of her mouth. “She wants to be a doctor, actually.”
I huffed a laugh, still feeling gut-shot. “Wow, really?”
“And she’s great at sports, loves baseball and soccer.”
“Yeah?”
I wondered who’d taught her to throw. My sister was always great at every sport she set her mind to, but Taryn had no interest for them.
Taryn seemed to read my mind, watching me so closely. “Anna taught her to throw and catch, and how to kick a ball around.”
“I thought as much.”
“You knew it wouldn’t be me,” Taryn said with a soft smile.
“What else?” I asked, feeling desperate for information now. We’d hardly talked about our daughter, the one elephant in the room that I could hardly bear to think about, but now I was greedy for it.
“She was in the school play last year,” Taryn told me, and then she laughed. “Jack and the Beanstalk. She was a tree. Me and Justin spent weeks stapling that damn costume together. It was a nightmare.” I smiled faintly, feeling the memories through her. “She’s… great. She’s an amazing little person, Mason.”
“She has her amazing mother to thank for that,” I said thoughtlessly, but I found I didn’t regret being so open.
“Her amazing family,” Taryn corrected.
I looked back at the family portrait on the wall and felt cold. Finally, I took my hand away from Taryn’s, slipping the napkin with the address into my pocket.
“I’d better go.”
“Keep me updated, please,” Taryn prompted.
She slumped and I knew at once it was disappointment. I recognized it from every other time I’d walked away without resolution. My doubts over her feelings for me seemed to pale in the shadow of the open longing on her face.
It was easier when I could pretend her feelings were purely physical.
I couldn’t bear to look at her. I felt so raw, so stripped to my nerves, that I had to get the hell out of here.
“Will do,” I said shortly, and then I walked away without a backwards glance.
I needed a little time before I could say goodbye to her. It was just—difficult. A few more days of ignorance couldn’t hurt. A few more days of not having to deal with how tangled up I was over her.
By now my head was clear from the whiskey and I walked to the hotel to pick up my car, spreading my sister’s address out on the dashboard to memorize it.
I knew where the place was.
The house was big and rustic looking when I pulled up there, with a huge yard stretching around the front and back. There was plenty of lighting in the area and I could see CCTV cameras on the fence and by the door—things Ethan obviously put up to keep them safe.
I steeled myself and walked up the path, knocking on the door.
Anna opened it; she knew I was coming.
“Hey,” I said softly.
For a long moment she was silent and, with resignation, I thought she would slam the door right back in my face. Even if I had to shout my piece through a closed door, I would; it was too important not to say.
But I didn’t have to.
“Hey, Mason,” she said, a faint smile pulling across her mouth.
My face broke into a grin and then she was in my arms, lifted off the ground with the force of how happy I was to see her smile at me again. Anna, who I’d practically raised once Mom died, felt like my little sister again.
She broke away, giving me a long look up and down. “You coming in or what?”
“Damn right I am,” I drawled.
I followed her across the threshold into the warmth of her home.
It was long overdue.
Chapter Eleven
Taryn
I tucked Daisy into bed, kissing her goodnight.
My phone started ringing.
Mason’s name flashed on the screen and I almost dropped it as I jogged quickly down the stairs to answer it away from Daisy’s earshot. After seeing him at the diner the other nigh
t, I’d felt something was wrong. He’d been so melancholy, asking to hear stories about his daughter like a deathbed request, and after our frosty goodbye the other day, I’d been constantly on edge.
“What is it?” I asked hurriedly, imagining the worst.
“Hello to you too.” His voice sounded snippy, and I almost groaned; we couldn’t seem to get on the right foot at the moment.
“Did something bad happen?” I clarified.
“You think the only reason I’d call is if something bad happened?” he asked, and then he sighed. “Look. I’m leaving town tonight…I wanted to say goodbye.”
My breath lodged in my throat and I had to swallow to loosen up my voice. “You’re leaving?”
“Things are in motion now. I have to meet up with someone one state over and then it’ll be time to take on Monroe.”
“Oh, god.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “I know.”
“You’re not just leaving forever, though, right? You’re going to be back?” I asked, not caring one bit if I sounded needy.
Those words I had dreaded: “I don’t know, Taryn.”
I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying to compose myself. “Right.”
“I’m coming over,” he said firmly, almost frantically. “Don’t say no, just—I’m coming over right now.”
“Okay, I’m at Justin’s but I’m about to set off home.”
He hung up and I eagerly grabbed my jacket, heading into the lounge to bid Justin a goodbye and more thanks for having my daughter.
It turned out he wouldn’t have to for much longer.
God. My stomach twisted painfully.
“What is it?” he asked suspiciously. “You look flushed.”
“Mason called,” I said.
“He calls and you’re practically running off to him? After how he treated you the other day?”
“He’s leaving town tonight, probably something to do with this Ethan thing, and I have to know what’s going on.”
I didn’t add the part where all I could think about was holding him, kissing him, maybe more, but I didn’t have to; Justin saw right through me.
“Sis, please be careful.”
“I am careful.”
“He’ll break your heart again; he’s already done it once.”
“You don’t know that,” I snapped, cringing and knowing exactly how I sounded—so desperate to defend Mason that I’d unquestionably forgive every betrayal.
It wasn’t like that, but I didn’t have time to lay it all out when every second mattered. Every moment he was still in town became instantly precious.
“I do know!” Justin said emphatically.
“Keep your voice down,” I scolded. “Daisy’s upstairs.”
Justin sighed, long and hard. “You’re not gonna listen to reason, are you?”
“I don’t even know what is or is not reasonable anymore, Justin,” I said wearily. “This is all so far beyond me that I can’t tell what’s right or wrong. What I do know is that I can’t be left in the dark, and that I have to put my trust in Mason right now. I have no choice.”
“You have a choice whether you let him back in,” Justin pointed out, far too gravely.
I couldn’t look my brother in the eye, turning to leave. “I have to go.”
He knew as well as I did that it was too late for that by miles. I respected him too much to lie to him about it.
The drive home seemed to take forever, Justin’s admonishments reeling in my head, and when I pulled up, Mason was already there, sitting on my front step with his hands hung loosely between his knees.
He was more stunning for the strange few limbo-like days we’d just experienced over each other, dressed in dark clothes like always, his fine features sharp with shadows in the dark.
I climbed out of my car and, all sense betraying me, jogged up the garden path to him. He stood up, opening his arms out for me, and I flung myself into his body, pulled right off the ground as he hugged me close.
“What a welcome,” he sighed into my hair.
“I missed you,” I told him, unable to find a shred of self-control to stop me. “I was worried.”
“That I’d gotten myself into trouble?”
“That you’d changed your mind…” I drifted off just short of saying about us. What us? I didn’t know if he even wanted an us. I wasn’t even sure if I did.
“I’d never just leave while you were in danger.” He’d mistaken my meaning, thank God. He hadn’t said anything about afterwards, either. He put my feet back on the ground, studying me now that he could. “About the past few days…”
“We don’t have to talk about it,” I interrupted, pulling out my keys and unlocking the door.
I turned on the lights as I made my way through the house, ending in the living room. I stood awkwardly in the middle of it, not knowing where to put myself in my own damn home.
“We don’t?” Mason finally asked. He seemed to have no such problem, sitting down on the arm of my sofa.
“I asked a lot from you, with this Monroe thing. I know it’s not fair, all of this landing on your shoulders.”
He frowned for a quiet moment, looking down at the carpet. “It’s the only way, though.”
“You’re gonna do it?” I asked tentatively.
“Yeah. I’m going out of state to meet with someone who can help.”
“I know it was my idea, but…” I trailed off, unable to find the words. “I’m worried.”
“No, it was a good idea. Don’t feel guilty for thinking on your feet.”
“Don’t feel guilty for asking you to do something that could get you killed?” I asked wryly. “I do. I hate the idea of you doing this. That can’t come as a surprise to you.”
He still didn’t look at me and it hit me: maybe he was surprised. Maybe he really didn’t believe how much he was worth—to me and in general. He’d gone to Anna’s the other night, I knew that, but he still didn’t understand how much we loved him.
“You’re more than a commodity, Mason,” I said softly. “More than a guy people just buy for a dirty job.”
“Am I?” he asked, more like a challenge than anything. “Look what I do, Taryn. I’m barely even a man anymore.”
“You kill bad people—”
“I kill people.”
“Then stop!”
“And what? Settle down? Have a cozy little life with you and our kid and pretend what I did to you, to my family, doesn’t matter? That it didn’t ruin everyone’s lives for a whole decade?”
Finally, one of us had said it. Laid what was possible out on the table. I wasn’t expecting it to be Mason that cracked, but there we were, facing it down. He made it sound so absurd, though, like that future was unattainable.
He made me feel like I was mad for even considering it. Was I? Was it so crazy to wish he’d leave that insane life of his and be safe? After so long thinking he was dead, he’d vanish again and I might never even know if he died for real one day.
“And what’s the alternative?” I asked quietly.
“Like you said, go back to my life of loneliness and death,” he spat, bitterly.
“Does it have to be so black and white with you? Can’t we just… give it a chance?”
“If we do and I screw up, it’ll be worse. I’ll be breaking apart our daughter’s family.”
“Who says you’ll be the one to screw up?” I smiled wearily and, after a considerate pause, he huffed a laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “If you don’t wanna go back to that life, there’s a life for you here. Even if it doesn’t turn out to be all white picket fences and perfect families, it’s still a life and, most importantly, you’ll be safe.”
“I can send you and Daisy money from New York,” he said, seemingly ignoring how I’d just bared myself to him. “You’ll be well taken care of.”
“Blood money,” I sighed, disappointed. I didn’t even have the energy to be mad anymore.
“Money’s money.”
At the kitchen counter, I turned to see Mason leaning against the doorframe. It reminded me of the first time he came in here, when senseless desire had taken us both like a whirlwind.
“I have a plan,” he told me belatedly, his demeanor quiet and calm now.
“Yeah, I figured you weren’t just winging it.”
“Fifty-fifty winging it.” He gave me a tentative smirk and felt the corner of my mouth quirk up in answer. “I gotta go see a girl about a deal.”
I rustled through my cabinets to find a stack of paper takeout cups I sometimes used for coffee on the go. I took one from the stack and held it up. “Coffee in or out?”
He cocked his head. “I know which I’d prefer, but it’d make me a hypocrite.”
“Well, if you stay for coffee that does mean you have to stay forever,” I said sarcastically. I pulled out a proper mug and filled it from the machine, passing it to him. “Now we’re married.” He laughed, sounding beautifully genuine and achingly tired. “What’s this deal about, then?” I asked finally, ready to hear the gritty details.
“I need to find a way to turn a few gang guys against each other so I can pop some of ’em and make it look like an inside job.”
I nodded slowly. “Oh. Easy peasy.”
“This girl can help me,” he explained. “I hope.”
A girl. I felt a stab of unreasonable jealously. “She’s someone you know?”
“Knew. Long time ago. A… friend.”
I took a breath. I had no damn right to be jealous, and I felt him slip even further away from me. “Thank you,” I said, pushing it out of my head. “For doing this.”
Mason cocked his head again. He looked like he couldn’t decide whether to smile or frown. “Don’t thank me yet.”
I pushed myself away from the counter, stepping towards him. I was beyond overthinking things, touched deeply by the raw tenderness of the evening and knowing this could very well be the last time I ever saw him.
I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him sweetly on the lips.
Hitman's Secret Baby: A Bad Boy Romance Page 11