Chapter 33

The apartment felt colder without Mason. He’d left a few hours ago for a late shift, but his absence was heavier tonight. I tried to focus on my schoolwork, yet every creak of the floorboards and whisper of the wind against the windows had my nerves on edge.

By midnight, I gave up. My books were abandoned on the coffee table as I curled up on the couch with a blanket, the TV humming in the background. Mason had promised to call when he was on his way home, and I was determined to wait up for him.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, I was startled awake by a faint click.

At first, I thought I’d imagined it. I sat up, blinking groggily at the TV, but the sound came again. A soft, deliberate noise, like a lock turning.

My chest tightened.

The apartment was still, the kind of stillness that prickled under your skin and warned you something wasn’t right. I glanced at the door, my breath hitching. 

The lock. 

Did I double-checke it after Mason left?

“Mason?” I called out hesitantly.

No answer.

I slowly stood, clutching the blanket around me like it could somehow shield me. My phone was on the coffee table, just a few steps away, but the air felt heavy, charged with an unspoken threat.

The doorknob turned.

“Mason, if this is you, say something!” My voice broke, panic rising.

The door creaked open an inch, just enough to let in a sliver of the hallway light. And then it stopped.

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. I stood frozen, every muscle locked in place. The silence stretched unbearably.

And then, suddenly, the door slammed shut.

The sound jolted me into action. I lunged for my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed Mason’s number.

He picked up on the first ring. “Happiness? What’s wrong?”

“Someone was at the door,” I stuttered, tears spilling over my face as I tried to keep my voice steady. “They unlocked it, Mason. They were here.”

“Lock the bedroom door,” he said immediately, his tone sharp and commanding. “Right now. I’m on my way home. Don’t open the door for anyone, do you hear me?”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “O-okay.”

“Stay on the phone with me,” Mason added, his voice softening slightly. “I’ll be there soon.”

I grabbed the blanket and ran to the bedroom, locking the door and wedging a chair under the knob for good measure. My hands shook as I slid to the floor, the phone pressed to my ear like it was my only lifeline.

“Talk to me,” Mason said, his voice grounding me. “Did you see them?”

“No,” I whispered. “I heard the lock. The door opened a little, but then it slammed shut.”

Mason swore under his breath. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m almost there.”

The next few minutes felt like hours. I clung to Mason’s voice, his steady reassurances the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

When I heard the front door open again, my body tensed.

“It’s me,” Mason called out, his voice clear and firm. “You’re safe now.”

I unlocked the bedroom door and all but collapsed into his arms. His warmth, his solid presence, made the fear that had gripped me loosen its hold, but only slightly.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, my face buried in his chest. “I should’ve checked the lock…”

“Stop,” Mason interrupted, his hands cupping my face and tilting it up so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. “This isn’t your fault. Whoever this is, they’re escalating. And I swear to you, I’ll find them.”

There was a quiet fury in his voice, a promise laced with steel.

He pulled me close again, his arms tightening protectively around me. “You’re staying with me, always. No arguments.”

“I wasn’t planning on arguing,” I whispered, trying to inject a bit of humor into the heavy moment.

But as Mason pressed a kiss to my temple, I could feel the tension in his body, the weight of his determination. He was ready to fight for me, for us.

And though his embrace made me feel safe, the thought of what or who was out there sent a chill down my spine. 

The apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy, almost oppressive. Mason had been distant, his mind clearly elsewhere.

He’d driven me to campus, stayed close during my classes, and brought me back home, but the man who usually teased me with a crooked smile and lighthearted banter was gone. In his place was someone guarded, brooding. 

I tried to break the silence a few times, asking him how work was going or if he’d made any progress on finding out who was behind the messages. Each time, he gave me a clipped response before retreating back into his thoughts.

Now, as I sat on the couch with my books spread out in front of me, I couldn’t concentrate. The tension between us was too thick, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Mason was sitting at the dining table, flipping through one of his case files, but I could tell he wasn’t really reading it. His brow was furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line.

My phone buzzed on the cushion beside me, and I glanced at the screen. Another message from the unknown number.

Unknown Number: “He’s keeping secrets from you.”

I felt a chill creep up my spine.

The phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: “Ask him about Sandra. Ask him what happened to her brother.”

Sandra. The name alone was enough to make my stomach twist.

We’d fought about her before, back when Mason and I were still figuring out our relationship. I’d been there at their wedding-that-never-was, watching from the pews as Sandra left him at the altar. It had been a scandal, whispered about for months, and though I’d never known the full story, I’d seen how it broke him.

When Mason and I got together, her shadow loomed over us like a ghost. I’d pushed him to open up about her, desperate to understand the part of his past that still seemed to haunt him. 

We’d argued, especially when he wasn't sure of his feelings for her, but eventually, he’d told me enough to quiet my insecurities when he got over it.

Or so I’d thought.

Because now, with each message, it was clear I didn’t know the full story.

I stared at the message, my heart pounding.

Sandra’s brother. That was a new one. My curiosity flared, as much as I hated to admit it. I wanted to trust Mason, but the gnawing sense that I didn’t know the full story was eating away at me.