MASON (Second Chance Novels Book 2) (26 page)

He pauses and stares straight into me again. I sit in silence, waiting for what I hope will be his answer to my request. He breathes a heavy breath and nods. "You have my blessing."

His voice remains strong and aloof, but his eyes betray his emotion. He gave away his only daughter in this moment.
 

"I'll take very good care of her, sir."

I drive home from the DiGiacamo house, a light feeling in my chest. I'll propose to Sofia soon. Learning about more of her layers from her father simply solidified how strongly I love her. I don't care how long we've been together. She's my other half, and we hang on fiercely. She's my reason.

As the week goes on, she and I both attend to our tasks. Sofia continues her work of running the detective squad and spends her shifts at the precinct rather than out in the field. I'm sure she knows how much I prefer the arrangement, but I'd never say my opinion out loud, not unless I wanted to piss her off royally.
 

I don't hear from Bash all week, but I have no doubt he's working his way up the ladder of importance very quickly. I spend my time playing the intimidation game with the mayor, interrupted only by a trip to a private jeweler. I pick out a very basic ring for Sofia.

Concentrating on our project is difficult knowing that her ring rests in my bedside drawer, appropriately next to my dog tags. Still, I press on, anxious to complete the project so I can offer her a life to move forward with.
 

To that end, I bother the mayor and each of his closest allies in this fight. I interrupt another important luncheon, and the mayor nearly turns purple with anger when I mention his boyfriend again along with a few other facts that prove how deep we've gotten with our intel. Bash is there as 'Halden Fells', feigning shock and disgust at my presence. He plays the role in subtle perfection.
 

We still have very little that's been obtained legally, but we'll get there. We know exactly where to look, and Halden Fells will work his magic. The DA should be able to get a warrant based on anything my friend finds, especially if he identifies at least one corrupt judge who's nervous about our investigation.
 

Sadly, even that playful lunch with those assholes isn't much fun. I simply want this over with. Sofia continues to get texts taunting her, mentioning her sweet little ass and blatant references to taking her body without her permission. The entire situation makes me ill and has me on high alert. Sofia is afraid, but would never admit it. She refuses to get a new phone number. "I won't be intimidated," she fumes when I suggest shutting down that account. "They know better than to try anything, and I refuse to let this kind of manipulation work on me."

I try to look at the situation from her perspective, but the rage I feel toward every threat and the people who make them can barely be contained. Still, I focus on moving forward with our project so I can move forward with Sofia. There's nothing I want more than to spend forever with her. I can imagine days kicking ass, nights of physical intensity, and a future as a part of her family, complete with children with ridiculously Italian names. The thought of a little brown-haired son with a name like
Fiore Pratt
amuses me.
 

I actually smile at myself Monday as I eat a sandwich for lunch. Any children we have would be so strong and surrounded with so much love. How could anything be better? How beautiful to think of. How strange that I'm thinking like this at all. I never thought I'd get past my darkness, and here I am surrounded by darkness again, and I can still feel the light. Sofia brings that warmth to me, and I love her all the more for it.
 

My thoughts are interrupted my cell lighting up with Ledger's name.
 

"Hello," I answer. I'm not really interested in talking to anyone right now. I'm too focused on thoughts of my current project and beautiful future for much else. Still, Ledger has been an incredible friend. I can make time for him. I fucking hate that the stress of this is affecting both Sofia and myself so strongly, as well as the few friends I've had the privilege of making. I'm convinced there's nothing we can't handle, but the 'fun' side of the investigation has long since passed. We're now in solid enemy territory and I'm ready to end the battle. I force those rapid thoughts to the background so I can see what my friend needs.

"Mason…"

The tone of Ledger's voice drops a boulder in my gut. My God…

"What the hell happened—" I ask, already grabbing my keys.

"It's Sofia. She's at the hospital. It's bad."

My heart goes black. She was fucking attacked again? How did this happen? This time, I will kill someone. There is no threat in that statement, only truth.
 

I'm in my car before I can even ask. "How bad is it?" I can barely hear myself over the sound of my engine straining to keep up with the force of my foot.

"Unspeakable, Mason."

"NO!" I shout. "
NO
!" Those bastards followed through on their threats? Did they…could they have? They will die. Every last one of them. "What the
FUCK
!"

"She came to Second Chance looking for you right after. I took her straight here. She's in room 247. The cops were already here. She refused to say a word, and she shut them down when they asked about pressing charges."

"Good girl," I seethe out to myself, thoughts of revenge slamming violently through my skull. I allow only two tears to escape my eyes before I'm sprinting to her hospital room. I ignore every pointless sound of disgust as I push people aside. The minute I get in the room, Ledger and Cam are smart to step back.
 

And there's Sofia, my phoenix, forced into ashes again. She's beaten and violated. Her wrists are abraded with ligature marks. Her cheek is bruised along with her neck. I look in her eyes, however, and I love her all the more. She's not frightened or crying or broken. She's in a state of rage and hatred. Good girl, again. The searing anger behind her eyes matches my own.
 

I walk to her and take her head strongly in my hands. She meets my eyes with painful determination.

"Same guys?"

She nods in total silence. That's ok. She doesn't need to talk.
 

"By tonight, they don't breathe."

I look in her eyes again. Revenge dances strongly within them, and I understand completely. One single word from her still-beautiful mouth confirms my mission. "Go," she grits out.

What she needs right now is not my arms around her or my hand to hold hers. She needs what only I can offer her. There will be time for comfort later – when those men are ended. Done. As fucking dead as they should be. Only then will comfort be possible.

I kiss her forehead strongly and then look at Ledger. "Have they gathered evidence from her yet?"

He shakes his head quietly. "She wouldn't even let them have her clothes."

"Then have Cam help her shower. No evidence, no connections, got it?"

He nods this time, then again after I instruct him, "You don't leave this room until I'm back."

His eyes meet mine gravely, knowing exactly what's to come. He knows he and Cam could both be implicated, and he stands strong as a teammate anyway. I have no doubt he'll get Cam out of the room the second she's done helping Sofia. He'll protect her as strongly.

I nod to Sofia one final time. I hate walking away, but my entire body is coursing with violence and adrenaline. I will defend what's mine, and I will help Sofia rise again the minute I bring their fucking hearts to her on a platter. Right now, hatred is the only thing holding me together. Revenge is the only thing keeping my heart beating.

I know revenge won't heal her, but she will never have to live with the knowledge that her abusers are alive with the possibility of using the corrupt system to save them.
There is no saving them
.
 

I waste not even a second of my time. With precision I go to my apartment and retrieve my Glock 17. And my field knife. And zip ties to abrade
their
fucking wrists. I dig through my drawer for my old Army camos, simply to connect more strongly to my training. For Sofia alone I pull my dog tags over my head.
 

Every bit of our intel on these bastards is brought sharply to the front of my brain, I drive near their piss-poor cliché of a hang out. These fuckers actually spend their time under a bridge. With skilled stealth, I hide in the scrub near the top of the overpass, using the vision of Sofia's angry eyes and bruised body to fuel my mission. There are exactly twelve other people milling around, but experience tells me they'll stay out of my way the moment they see the muzzle-flash of my weapon.

My targets, too, will try to run. I would have an easier time picking them off with a sniper rifle, but I want to see fear in their eyes. I want them to experience the terror they forced upon my phoenix. I'll violate
their
fucking bodies with as many bullets as I want to expend. Seventeen in one magazine. I plan a use for each one. I bring extra, but I won't need them.
 

I scan the enemy territory one last time, envisioning the battle in three basic scenarios. I opt for a strategy that combines pain, fear, and precision, and offers no chance of escape. These evil sons-of-bitches end now.
 

Ready, I stand and walk with determination directly at my targets. I can see the ring leader, the one who took from Sofia what she didn't want to give. I know he's guilty without ever having been told. He'd never let his lackeys enjoy what he considers his. I have no doubt of that.

With a warning shot, I announce myself.
 

That's one bullet.
 

With my voice booming, I announce my intentions. "I'm here to kill five people, but I have enough bullets for all of you."

Chaos rules the scene as the bridge-dwellers try to make sense of what is happening. The five closest to my point of attack, the five destined for a painful death, however, don't have time to leave.
 

I double tap one of Sofia's attackers in the heart.
Two more bullets
. One split second and a tiny shift of my aim and I double tap the next.
Two more bullets. That's five now.
 

The first two bodies show exactly how serious I am. The other pathetic followers take the hint, and the skinny one of the crew tries to run. A bullet in his hamstring stops his progress.
That's six
. A shot to the gut drops his friend.
Seven
. Those two fuckers are still breathing, which is fine for now. They're terrified. They're in pain. Skinny's adrenaline tries to help him get up, but a second bullet halts him again.
Eight
.
 

 
Everyone has scattered now with the exception of Sofia's rapist. Shank, the bald-headed-goatee-sporting ringleader, simply stands with his arms crossed, leaning against a pylon. Arrogant, delusional bastard. He considers himself untouchable like the power-hungry asshole who hired him. I'm looking forward to proving him wrong.
 

"You know," he starts with a smug drawl. "Your lady thanked me."

"I know she did. She told me so," I respond, internally rolling my eyes that he thinks he can get under my skin. I have a single purpose here, and no words can waver my focus.

He laughs, apparently amused that he hasn't gotten to me. "Did she now."
 

"Yep, she was thankful you have smallest dick she'd ever seen. She likes a good laugh. She can't wait to tell all her friends how tiny you are," I say with my Glock still strongly in my double grip and trained directly at his heart.
 

This badass wannabe is so easily shaken. The insult and stress of my attack distracts him quickly. Weak piece of shit. With a tiny shift of my torso, I adjust my aim and unload a bullet into his shoulder.
Nine
.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouts as he pushes his palm over the bleeding wound. "You're fucking dead!"

"Nah," I say. "But you are. You just don't know it yet."

Ten
. His other shoulder is now bleeding down the front of his shirt.
 

Eleven
. His leg buckles under him.

The three bleeding fuckers in front of me are writhing on the ground. Now for the fun part. I zip tie each of their wrists painfully, making sure the marks left will be visible from a distance. I pause only to put a bullet in Shank's other leg.
Twelve
. I drag each of them together, taking care to step on each wound as I line them up. Their screams are music. I don't have much more time before the police get here, but the response time in this part of the city offers me the opportunity to play a little longer.
 

"How does it feel, ladies?" I ask with hatred dripping from my words. Half of this show is for them, the other half is a tiny hint of release for me. I need all of this purged before I return to my phoenix, ready to hold her ashes protectively. I drive the muzzle of my pistol in to skinny's temple.

"Back off, man," he says desperately. "We didn't even touch her! It was Shank!"

Shank grits out an angry warning to his whimpering friend. "Shut up, asshole!"

I stand over skinny now, my gun trained at his forehead. "And I suppose you're innocent? You didn't laugh? Cheer? Hold her down?
Wish
it was you?"
 

Thirteen
. He's bleeding from his forehead, a blank look glassed in his eyes.

Fourteen
. The other lackey ends. I'm running out of time to play, and Shank deserves my utmost attention. I hear sirens in the distance. Fuck. I pull out my field knife and quickly slice Shank's forehead in the same spot where Sofia was cut all those weeks ago. I use my fist to bruise his face in the exact way he bruised Sofia's. I grip his throat to match the handprint on hers.
 

"I'm having so much fun," I seethe out. "Is that what you thought when you raped my woman?"

"You can kill me," he groans out. "But this isn't over. You know that."