Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance (6 page)

Mason didn’t wait for me to reply. “Carly is telling the truth,” he broke in. Mason turned his gaze on me and I gaped at him with shock.

Why did he do that?

“Mason!” Brian snarled with warning.

But the damage was already done.

The Gardeners stood up abruptly. “We’re leaving!” Anne snapped.

“But —”

“Now!” Anne roared. Sullenly, Melissa rose from her seat and walked over to her mother’s side.

Mom was quick to react, getting out of her seat and going over to block the path of the fuming neighbors. “Wait Anne, please, this all some sort of big misunderstanding—“

“Out of my way!” Anne growled, sidestepping her and dragging Melissa along like a rag doll out of the dining room. “Your son is a disgrace!”

I could hear them arguing in the hallway as Hugh paused to address Brian before he left the room.

“You know that deal we were going to cut for that property next month?” Hugh asked. “It’s done!” Hugh swiped both hands out to the side in a cutting motion. “Finished!” Snarling in disgust, he stormed out of the room, yelling behind him, “I’ll never do business with you again, asshole!”

A second later the front door slammed.

“God damn it!” Brian roared, slamming his fists down on the table and knocking over several wine glasses. His face was red with rage and the veins were standing out on his neck. “I worked for months on that fucking deal!”

Mom glared at me balefully. “You see what you’ve done? You should’ve kept your mouth closed!”

I gaped with shock. Mother was insane. I wasn’t the one fucking the neighbor while we were supposed to have dinner. I didn’t even want to go up there! “Me?” I rasped. “How is it my fault?” I pointed at Mason. “It’s his fault!”

“So? You didn’t have to tell them that!” Mom yelled.

Mason intervened, getting in between us. “Carly’s right, Sherry. It’s my fault. Don’t blame her.”

Mom glared at him. “She still shouldn’t have told them—”

I couldn’t believe Mason was defending me for being a little snitch. Maybe he felt guilty that he was caught in the act.

“What the hell is wrong with you, boy?” Brian yelled.

Mason shrugged. “Hey, she came on to me. You expect me to turn that down?”

Brian ignored the bait and stabbed a finger at the floor, growling, “Do you have any idea how much work I put into that deal?”

Mason shrugged, not able to offer a response.

“You ungrateful little shit!” Brian yelled. “I should make you pay your own tuition. See how you like working for a living.”

Mason laughed. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already dropped out.”

Brian froze in his tracks, shock on his face. “You did what?”

Mason smiled, enjoying his father’s shock. “I dropped out. Those people can’t teach me anything — they might ask me something. My talents are better used elsewhere.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Brian shook his head in disgust. “Why would you drop out after wasting all those years? You get bored and give up and waste both your time and my money?”

Mason made a dismissive motion. “Degrees are so overrated anyway. Schools oversell their importance to fill seats in their classrooms — you’ll see what I can do when I put my mind to it. Besides, I never asked for you to pay, I never wanted to go to begin with. You guys pressured me into doing it in the first place,” Mason pointed out.

“You’re right, but what’s wrong with wanting to see my son succeed in life?”

“The point is — I’m a rebel, Dad. I don’t want to be part of a broken system. I’d rather fight it.”

“I’m done arguing with you, Mason. You’re going to go back to the school’s administration office and hope to god they let you back in,” Brian commanded. “If not, you’re on your own, young man.”

Mason stared at his father for a long moment. “All right, then.” He walked over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I wish things could’ve turned out different between us,” he whispered in my ear.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Then he turned and walked out.

“Get back here!” Brian yelled.

The front door slammed a few moments later. I was sure it was barely hanging on its hinges.

He’ll be back,
I told myself.
He was just pissed off and talking out of anger.

“Well,” I said wryly, “that’s one way to ruin dinner!”

I
awoke
to the aroma of bacon, eggs, sausage and . . . pancakes? I sat up in bed quickly, squinting at the ray of sunshine hitting my face.

How long had I slept? I’d been in a deep sleep that felt like an eternity. The kind where you wake up and your limbs feel like they have lead in them. I was supposed to have kept watch over Mason until he woke up.

It was that damn dream
, I thought, wiping at my grit-filled eyes.

For some unknown reason, I dreamed of the night Mason left. Now I felt like crap — the memory invoked negative emotions within me.

After a moment, I got out of bed and stretched before heading into the kitchen.

Mason was skillfully flipping pancakes with a skillet. Nearby, steam rose from a platter of eggs, bacon, and sausage. “Rise and shine, sleepy head. You were supposed to keep watch all night, but I know you’re a light weight so I’ll forgive you.”

“Take that off!” I said sharply, holding back a chuckle. His powerful biceps on display, Mason was wearing my pink apron. It looked super tiny on his muscular frame, like it was about to split apart. “You look absolutely ridiculous.”

Despite the silliness, Mason looked damn good to me. Of course he looked goofy as hell, but it was cute.

So much for the sexual tension being gone
, I thought wryly.

The steamy masturbation session last night had done little to alleviate my desire. If anything, it made it worse.

Mason gave me a dimpled-filled grin. “Hey, I’m the Chef here,” he said as he shook the skillet. “Gotta look the part.”

I scowled. “You’re going to owe me a new apron if you rip that thing. You’re way too big for it.”

“Deal.”

I stared at the pile of food, my stomach growling. “Since when do you know how to cook anyway?” As far as I could remember, Mason didn’t even know how to heat up a cup of Ramen noodles. In fact, he probably hadn’t ever washed a dish in his life.

“I picked a few things up on my own.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. “Which you have yet to tell me about. Where did you go?”

A shadow passed over his face as a pancake he was flipping missed the skillet and hit the floor. So much for being a master chef. “I’ll tell you later.” He bent down and picked up the pancake and tossed it in the small wastebasket under the sink. Then he nodded at my small circular table in the nook. “Go sit down. Food will be ready in just a minute.”

I bit back an acerbic reply. Who did Mason think he was, ordering me around? This was my place, after all. And I hated that he was being evasive.

I was saltier than a McDonald’s French fry with Mason, but I was trying to put the circumstances we were under in perspective. We had bigger things to worry about. I could drill him about his misadventures later.

“Fine,” I muttered. “But I’m only doing it because I’m hungry and not because you told me to.”

Mason chuckled. “Right.”

I walked over to the table and took a seat. I was hungry as hell.

He tossed a glance over my way while flipping a pancake. “Want coffee? Or orange juice?”

Did aliens abduct Mason and replace him with someone else?
I wondered.

“Orange juice, please,” I replied.

Two minutes later, Mason was seated across from me scarfing down scrambled eggs.

“This is good,” I remarked over a mouthful of syrup-soaked pancakes. “I can’t believe you actually made this.”

Mason chugged down half a glass of milk. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

“Please. I said it was good, but I’ve had better.”

Mason winked at me. “Don’t lie. You know you love it.”

The food was delicious, that’s for sure.

As we ate, it dawned on me that we were in such a romantic setting — a cabin in the woods, alone without anyone around. It was actually the sort of thing I used to daydream about sharing with Mason.

Except this is more like a nightmare with what he’s involved in,
I thought
. And it’s not like he ever noticed me before, so why would he notice me now?

Finished with his eggs, he grabbed the maple syrup and doused his pancakes. “I was thinking,” he said.

I forked at a piece of fat sausage. “About what?”

“I don’t want to upload the footage from here.”

“Why?” I asked after shoving the sausage into my mouth and savoring the sweet, smoky flavor.

“Whoever it was that caught me in their system, they have to know by now what I took. Once we upload it, it’ll only be a matter of time before they trace it back to where it came from, and I don’t want that to be here.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Use public Wi-Fi. Much easier.”

I nodded, and Mason impaled a stack and stuffed it into his mouth. “And another thing,” he chewed. I marveled at his powerful jaws at work. “We probably shouldn’t stay here. Once the authorities narrow down the people or places I’d likely go to, they’ll show up here eventually.”

I finished off my sausage, reveling in the deliciousness. “You might be right about that. But I would think we would be safe here for now at least. The utilities aren’t even in my name right now. No one knows that I live here except for my landlord, and he doesn’t pry into my business. I’ve never told mom or Brian or any of my college friends where I live. For all they know, I room with a friend in San Fran.”

“Hmm.” Mason grabbed his glass of juice and washed down the pancakes. “Speaking of family — how’s Dad and Sherry?”

I frowned into my orange juice. “They’ve separated.”

Mason didn’t look surprised one bit. “Why?

“After you left, Brian became bitter. He and mom argued incessantly. He blamed her for a lot of things, became cold and heartless. She couldn’t take it and left shortly after I graduated college.” I looked up at Mason, who was staring at me. “They haven’t divorced yet, but it looks like they will.”

“That sucks.”

I took a swig of the juice to wash down the aftertaste of the sausage. “You don’t seem that broken up about it.”

Mason shrugged. “It was bound to happen anyway. The writing was on the wall for years now.”

I wanted to yell at him, to tell him that part of their separation was his fault for taking off. But what good would it do me besides venting my frustration? And in another way, I felt a little guilty myself. If I hadn’t ratted him out, maybe he’d have never left to begin with? But what was done, was done. I needed to stay focused on the task at hand.

If I can stop thinking about Mason every other second,
I thought.

It annoyed me that even after all this time, I was still heavily attracted to him. So much for out of sight, out of mind. Course it’d worked for a while, but now that he was back in front of me, it was all flooding back.

“Anyway,” I said, intent on changing the subject. “Rosemary Collins. I told her that she’d be the first to know if I found out information on her daughter’s killer—”

“You can’t have any contact with her,” Mason cut in immediately. “None at all. Not right now.”

I began to protest. “But I wouldn’t tell her about the video—”

“None!” Mason snapped. His expression softened when he saw the hurt look in my eyes. “I’m sorry, Carly. I’m just looking out for you. We have no idea who the mayor has watching the woman. You can’t contact her in any fashion. Doing so might put us both at risk . . . and ruin everything we’re trying to work toward. Think about it, it was her daughter — you can’t expect her to not tell anyone. She’ll go telling anyone and everyone who’ll listen.”

My cheeks reddened with embarrassment. How could I be so stupid? Mason was right. I should’ve known better.

“You’re right,” I muttered. “I was being stupid.”

Mason shook his head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I can tell you’re emotionally invested in this and it’s easy to get confused. Just don’t worry about Rosemary right now, okay? We’ll get her the closure she deserves. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Now, you asked how we’re going to load this video onto your blog. I think we should use the university library. It should be easy to blend in. Of course, once it’s on your blog, you’re going to be just as much of a target as I am.”

I arched an eyebrow, and Mason paused, licking his lips as if considering if he should tell me something else. “There are other people watching me. They have eyes everywhere and probably have more resources than whoever is trying to cover this up. That’s who I’m worried about . . . ” His last sentence was ominous.

A weight settled on my chest as the reality of what I was involved with set in. On top of running from the authorities, Mason had enemies.

“Who are these people?” I asked, trying not to sound too cynical. It was hard to believe some random group of people could have more resources than whoever controlled the coverup, but hey, I could be wrong. “And what do they want?”

Mason set his jaw. “I can’t tell you right now.”

“Can’t? Or won’t.”

“A little bit of both.”

What the hell have I gotten myself into? What if his enemies are real and they really are watching him?

Mason’s fears, real or imagined, didn’t matter now. It was too late to turn back — I was in too deep, too emotionally involved.

“I gotta say, what you’ve alluded to, some powerful enemies dancing in the shadows. It sounds a little far-fetched, but considering I just saw a video of the mayor murdering a young girl, I guess I believe you. You’re going to have to tell me about these people sooner or later, though,” I said firmly. “I deserve to know what I’m dealing with here.”

Mason nodded. “You’re right . . . and I will as soon as we get this video out there. But trust me when I say, these people don’t fuck around.”

He gave me an intense look that drove his point home and I felt a chill in my bones.

I shivered. Mason was dead serious. “Fine,” I said finally. “I’ll take your word for now. I’m going whip up an article I want you to post along with the video.”

“Oh yeah. I was going to ask you about that. What did you have in mind?”

I tapped my fingers thoughtfully against my cheek, my excitement pushing away the foreboding I’d felt moments before. “Um, I think something simple, and let viewers draw their own conclusion. Along the lines of . . . this video was sent to me by an anonymous individual. Viewers are invited to come to their own conclusions as to the identity of the man in this video. Something like that.”

“Hmm. Sounds good.”

Done with his breakfast, Mason pushed back his plate and became silent, his sparkling green eyes stabbing into me.

I shifted in my seat, literally squirming beneath his gaze.

“What?” I asked.

“You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman,” he said softly. “I always thought you would, but to see it in person . . .” he trailed off, his eyes boring into my face.

Blood rushed to my cheeks.

Did he really just say that?
I must’ve been hearing things.

An embarrassed expression came over his face as if he’d let something slip that he desperately didn’t want me to know. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that . . .”

I reached out to grab his hand. I wanted to hear more. “No please—”

He jerked his hand away from me like he’d just been stung by a bee, and stood up from his chair. “Mind cleaning all this up?” Mason asked, though it was more like an order. He took off my pink apron, the poor thing looking like it was practically tearing at the seams. “And then write that article. I gotta go make some calls before we leave.”

Turning his back on me, he walked away, leaving me feeling dazed and confused.

F
uck
, I thought as I paced back and forth on the porch of the small cabin.
Get a hold of yourself, Mason.

I’d only been around Carly for a few hours, not counting when I was asleep, and those old emotions were already creeping back up. I thought that I’d conquered those feelings already, but I’d drudged them back up at the sight of her.

It was torture, holding back my desire — something so alien to me. I’m used to either using my charm to get what I want, or easier, having women practically throw themselves at me. It was only day two.
Day two.
How the fuck was I going to make it? I’d probably die from blue balls soon.

Maybe I should just give in, give her a good fuck, and both of us could get it out of our system and focus. She
clearly
wants me as bad as I want her.
That would totally work
, I thought to myself sarcastically.

The image of her walking around in those tiny little shorts back when I lived at home sashayed through my mind, filling me with primal urges.

Pushing Carly from my thoughts, I dug into my pocket and brought out one of my phones. A push of a button and several rings later, someone picked up.

“Yo,” greeted a high-pitched voice.

I grunted. “Shadow.”

“Hello, Razor.”

“What’s the situation?” I asked.

“So far? Some detectives interviewed your father.”

“Any idea on what he told them? I don’t think he knows anything.”

“No clue. No one seems to know where you’re at, but you can bet your ass it won’t be long before they do.”

“Anything else I should know?”

There was a long pause before he answered. “Maddy is on to you.”

Ugh.

“I need your help keeping her off my back for a while.” It stung my pride to ask for help, but Carly was involved now. I needed to take every precaution.

Maybe I made a mistake in coming here.

I could’ve done it on my own, but under panic, the only person I could think of trusting was Carly. Being able to jumpstart her career was just icing on the cake and something I didn’t even think of initially.

“I’ll do my best,” Shadow replied. “But be warned, you have so many people looking for you.” Shadow paused. “Seriously Razor, you need to watch out. Maddy’s got it out for you pretty bad. That bitch is crazy so I don’t even know what she’d do if she did find you.”

“I will.” I placed my finger over the hang-up button. “I’ll contact you later—”