“You don’t know me,” Julie blurted out. “You can’t possibly come to that conclusion.”
Shaun bit out scoff. “That’s what women do. They take perfectly good men, rip off their balls, and keep them in their purses like trophies. So fuck you!”
“Well, I don’t want Mason’s balls,” Julie said back. “Truthfully, I kind of like them where they are and if he wants to shoot pool or have a few beers, I’m not going to stop him.”
“So you say now, but once you guys start getting serious, you’ll moan and bitch that he doesn’t spend enough time with you. I know how you bitches work.”
“You clearly don’t,” she countered smoothly. “Because if you did, then you would know that I want the same things you do.”
“Is that so?”
She nodded. “We both want Mason and we both want him happy. In the end, our arguing is only hurting him, so I think we should come to an arrangement.”
Shaun’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of arrangement?”
“You can have him on the weekends, all weekend, except major holidays and birthdays. I get him during the week.”
“That’s bullshit! Why do you get more days with him?”
“Because I’m at school all morning, which means I can only see him in the evenings. You get him for seventy-two hours straight whereas I only get him for even less time than that in a full week.”
It wasn’t entirely true, but she was banking on him not being able to do the math without all ten fingers and all ten toes and possibly a calculator.
She was right.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “But I get him on my birthdays.”
Julie thought about this a moment before adding, “Fine, but if your birthday falls on a weekday, I get to take one of your days in exchange.”
Shaun gave a sharp nod of agreement. “Fine, but I also get him during long weekends.”
“No!” she protested. “Long weekends fall into my territory, which means I get him.”
He didn’t seem to like this, but he didn’t argue.
“What about holidays?” he asked.
“We split the day. You get him during the morning and I get him at night, except Valentine’s Day. He’s mine that day, even if it falls on a weekend.”
“What the fuck? That’s not fair!”
“I’ll give you one weekday in exchange,” she bartered.
Busy arguing, neither noticed Mason watching them with amusement until he cleared his throat.
“Mom, Dad, if you’re done arguing custody, I would like to point out that I feel very objectified right now.”
Julie arched a brow. “Are you complaining?”
Mason put up his hands, palms up. “No, no, just throwing it out there.” He strode around the island and came up behind her. “I would also like to add that we should be getting ready to leave.”
With a nod to him that she understood, Julie returned her focus on Shaun.
“So, do we have a deal?” She held out her hand to him.
Shaun hesitated, then reached over and took it. They shook once before letting go.
“This is such a beautiful moment,” Mason sighed. “I feel like we just signed a treaty for new world order or something equally monumental.”
Julie gouged her elbow playfully into his stomach. “Shut up.” With an oomph, Mason doubled over, clutching his middle. Julie left him like that as she slid off her stool and hurried to the door. “I’m going to go grab my things,” she called over her shoulder.
She came across Luis on the stairs. He was making his way down with a single backpack slung over one shoulder. There was a computer bag dangling from the other. He grinned at her in passing.
In her room, she did a quick walk through of her room, double checking the bathroom and under the furniture in case she’d forgotten anything. Then she grabbed her bag and left the room.
Mason met her at the bottom. He, Luis, and Shaun were talking. All three stopped when she approached.
“What’s up?” she asked.
Mason shook his head. “Nothing. We were just deciding whether or not to follow you home.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” she assured them. “You guys have to go in the total opposite direction. But thanks. I’ll be fine once I hit the highway.”
Mason took the bag from her, tossed the strap over his shoulder, and led the way out the front doors. Julie followed him onto the porch, where he kicked a small paper bag out of his way as he descended the steps. He stalked to her car and jerked open the back door.
Walking behind him, at a much slower pace Julie noticed it first. Her car was sitting funny, much too low to the ground and the wheels were no longer round, but flattened on the side pressed into the pavement.
“Mason!” She grabbed his arm with one hand and pointed with the other. “Someone slashed my tires!”
He stopped, took a step back, and examined the set directly in front of them. Setting her bag down, he left her side to view the other side. He swore viciously and she knew it would be the same all the way around.
Darting past her, Mason stalked to his truck. Not that he needed to. Even from ten feet away, Julie could see the odd tilt of his car, the way it sat too far on one side. Both sides were slashed, but the left side must have been deeper, or done first, because the right side was leaking but it hadn’t gotten as flat. Her car must have been done before his. The air was completely gone from the tubes and the rubber was sagging around the silver rims. There was no driving it in that condition, not without permanently wrecking her frames. She had a spare in the trunk, but it was more or less useless when all four needed to be replaced.
“Mother fucker!”
Mason’s irate roar had her whipping around, half expecting them to be under attack. But they were the only two in the driveway and he was standing at the back of the truck, staring at something that had his nostrils flaring and his face glowing a violent shade of crimson.
“Mason?” She hurried over to him.
He was bent at the waist, his nose inches from the metal. His gas tank was open. The cap had been torn out and it lay on the ground. But it was the fine, white powder that dusted the rim and coated the black paint that caught her attention.
“What is that?” Julie whispered.
Mason swept a finger over the powder, pressed it between his thumb and forefinger and brought it to his nose. Then, rather than answer her, his gaze snapped to the porch like a wolf catching the scent of fresh blood.
He tore away from her and lunged back towards the house. Julie started to follow, then stopped when he stomped up the steps and snatched something off the porch. Julie recognized it as the paper bag he’d kicked out of his way earlier.
“Sugar.” His growl snapped through the silence. Even the elements had opted to keep out of his way. “Someone put sugar in the gas tanks.”
It took a moment for his words to set in, for it to make sense. When it did, Julie felt it like a blow to the chest. The bottom of her stomach plummeted in horror and she spun to her car.
Sure enough, the tank was open and the same white residue stained the opening. There was a small mound on the ground next to her discarded cap and slashed back tire. Her hand shook as she picked up the cap and stared at it.
It wasn’t enough that the damage to her tires would cost her well over a thousand dollars to replace, but her car was finished thanks to the sugar now clogging her pipes. Whoever was responsible was doing a damn good job making sure they didn’t leave.
“Come on. Get inside.”
Mason grabbed her despite her numb protest and dragged her away from the heap of useless metal back into the house. Luis met them in the foyer, bags in hand, looking ready to get the show on the road. His brows furrowed at the sight of Mason’s murderous expression and Julie’s ashen one.
He shot glances from Mason to Julie, who was still clutching the cap to her gas tank. “What’s going on?”
“Someone wrecked the cars,” Mason told him
without pausing in his long strides to the kitchen.
“They put sugar in the tanks,” Julie told Luis over her shoulder as she hurried her steps to follow Mason. “And slashed the tires.”
Luis’s jaw dropped. His already round eyes went enormous. “What?”
Julie didn’t respond. She had already ducked into the kitchen and was watching Mason stalk to the phone. He snatched up the receiver and placed it to his ear. One hand hovered over the pad, froze inches from the keys. He pushed several at random, slammed his hand on the whole base once in frustration, before dropping the receiver back down.
“The lines are dead.” His shoulders rose and fell rapidly with his livid pants.
He was still standing there when Shane came barreling into the room, face scrunched in annoyance.
“Who took my damn phone?”
Luis entered the room on Shaun’s heels, looking shaken and sick. “My phone’s gone, too.”
Shaun rounded on Mason. “What the hell’s going on?”
Mason drew in a calming breath that probably cost him more than he was willing to show, raised his chin, and replied evenly, “Someone really doesn’t want us to leave.”
Chapter Twenty
Julie turned her entire room upside down searching for her phone. After her talk with the sheriff the night before and a vague recollection of dropping the thing when reaching for the land line, the cell had vanished off the face of the planet as though the very floor had swallowed it up. She practically turned her entire duffle inside out searching for it. But she knew it was useless.
“This is bullshit!” Shaun roared, landing a deafening blow to the kitchen cupboard with a meaty fist. “I left my phone on the bed, went to take a leak, and it was gone when I came out. What the fuck is going on?”
“I didn’t see anyone!” Luis said, gaze darting frantically from face to face. “I mean, I was here the whole time, except when I was in my room, but I mean, I would hear someone skulking around the place, right?”
“None of us did,” Mason muttered.
“What do we do?” Luis demanded. “We can’t stay here.”
“We can’t leave either,” Mason added. “Both cars are totaled.”
“And the sheriff thinks we’ve already left,” Julie chimed in. “I told him we would leave the second we got our cars back. He no doubt knows by now that we picked them up from impound and probably thinks we’re long gone. So he’s not going to swing by and check to see if we’re all right.”
“We’ll go to the neighbors,” Shaun decided. “One of them has got to have a phone we can use.”
Mason nodded. “We could, but the closest house is twenty minutes away and town is an hour.”
“We can’t leave the house,” Julie cut in. “We don’t know where this guy is or if he’s watching our every move. We could leave and he could run us over with his car or something.”
“What does it matter?” Shaun snapped. “He’s already been in the house. The sugar out there,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, “was from the pantry and all our phones were inside when they got taken. So I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t feel overly safe being locked up in here.”
Mason and Julie exchanged glances, neither of them sure what to say.
Luis bit his lip. He glanced towards the window over the sink. “I’ll do it. I’ll walk to town. I did it yesterday and made it back okay.” But even as he said it, he lost what little color was remaining on his face.
“No!” Julie said at once. “That’s way too dangerous.”
“Then what do you suggest, Princess?” Shaun shot back. “Just sit here until he gets us or we die of old age?”
“It’s okay,” Luis assured her with a weak smile that reminded her of a pained grimace. “I’m a really fast walker.”
“You could get hurt if you go on your own.”
Shaun straightened. “He won’t be alone. This fucker has no idea who he’s messing with.”
Luis’s shoulders sagged in visible relief. He gave Shaun a grateful smile before turning to Mason as though waiting for permission.
Mason checked the clock. “Fine, but stay together and hurry. It’ll be nightfall soon.”
With nods, the two started for the front door. Mason locked it behind them. Then he set the alarm. They both did a walkthrough of the house, locking windows and double checking doors. It was all bolted shut tight, but, the anxious gnawing in the pit of Julie’s stomach continued to writhe like angry snakes. Her chest ached from the baseball sized lump wedged in her lungs, stifling her every intake of air. She wanted to cry, but couldn’t trust herself to stop if she started. It was all just too much.
“It’s going to be okay,” Mason murmured when he found her staring furiously out the living room window at the driveway.
It was reaching six in the afternoon and there was still no sign of Shaun and Luis. A storm had begun to brew, smearing the sky with an angry mess of black and gray. Fat raindrops crashed like water balloons across the ground and the roof, sounding like missiles falling from the heavens. The wind lashed against the windows, rattling the glass, and making the entire house groan in protest. Part of her wondered if it was the weather keeping them from returning, or something else. Had they even made it to town?
“They’ll be fine.” Mason slipped up behind her and enfolded her in his arms. “Shaun’s too much of a bad ass to let anyone get in his way.”
“I just hope they made it,” she whispered, leaning back against him. “It’s starting to come down pretty hard.”
“I’m sure they did.” He kissed the back of her head. “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head. “I’m too restless to eat.”
“Hey.” He took her gently by the arms and turned her to face him. “Don’t be.” He smoothed her hair off her face. “Everything will be fine.”
Julie pressed a hand to her face. “I’m just so glad I got the kids safely home. I would be a mess if they were still here.”
He drew her hand away. “I don’t believe that. You’re one of the bravest people I know.” He grinned slightly. “How many people can say they took on three grown men?”
Julie narrowed her eyes. “Jackie Chan?”
He laughed, pressed a kiss to her brow, and drew back. “Come on. You need to eat.”
They barely made it three steps when the entire world plunged into a semi darkness. The sort of darkness that was deafening with the silence that followed when everything electronic went dead. It was made thicker by the gloom that hung over the house. It tossed them into a murky gray hue that reminded her of a being trapped in a nightmare.
“What happened?”
“The storm must have knocked out the power,” Mason mused, but there was an edge to his tone she didn’t like. “There’s a backup generator in the basement. Come on. I need to get a flashlight from the kitchen.”
In the kitchen, he left her at the island and stalked to the pantry. She could hear things rattling as they were shuffled aside. Something struck the ground with a resounding clunk. It sounded like a can. It rolled with a noisy clatter and came to a stop. There was a muttering, then, with a triumphant ha, he emerged. He flicked something in his hand and a streak of yellow light splintered through the dimness. He clicked the flashlight off and motioned for her to follow him.
He led them to the laundry room. Julie had only been in there a couple of times and both times the plain, wooden door built into the very far wall of the tiny room had creeped her out. Maybe it was the cramped space, the way someone had crammed everything into such a small place, but the door had always struck her as very large and ominous.
There was a state of the art washer and dryer shoved into the corner on her right and a table bolted to the wall on her left. There was a sliver of space in between that was just large enough for one person to move comfortably, and just enough room for the basement door to be opened inward towards the table.
Julie had never bothered opening the door in all the time
she had been trapped in that house, mainly because she had never had a love for dark, dank places, but now she was about to venture almost willingly down and the thought had her slickened with cold sweat.
Mason pulled open the door, and maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn a glacial gust of wind shoved against them as though in warning.
Julie gritted her teeth.
“Ready?” Mason asked as he snapped on the flashlight.
Julie swallowed audibly, bolted down her courage and nodded. “Yeah.”
With one hand on Mason’s shoulder, she was steered downward over a row of rickety steps that creaked with their weight. It was eerie that not even the storm reached them that far underground.
“It used to be a storm cellar,” Mason explained, maybe to ease her mind and distract her. “But since we don’t get hurricanes here, it was later converted into a basement. There’s even a hatch somewhere down that way,” he gestured somewhere to the right, “that opens up to the side of the house. But Dad had it bolted shut when a bunch of kids broke in and trashed the place. There were satanic symbols painted all over in red paint and dead animal carcasses strung from the rafters. It freaked Mom out. She still can’t come down here after that.”
“I don’t blame her,” Julie whispered.
Mason sighed. “I think Dad might sell the place after this. He’d been debating it for a while, but...”
He didn’t bother finishing. Julie didn’t need him to. Had it been up to her, she would have set the place on fire and be done with it.
But as soon as the thought penetrated, she shoved it aside. It wasn’t the house’s fault bad things were happening to it and yet ... she couldn’t shake the irrational hatred she felt for it.
Mason swept the light over the musty space. Julie could see concrete walls and rows of dusty, cluttered shelves. It also stank of rotting leaves and grime. There was something else hidden just beneath that, something sharp and sour, but she didn’t dwell as they headed left.
Kissing Trouble Page 29
