Chapter 35

The next morning, I woke to an empty bed. Mason had already left for work, but the faint scent of his cologne lingered on the pillow beside me. It was a small comfort, though it did little to ease the unease stirring in my chest.

The messages had stopped for now, but the silence felt more ominous than reassuring. Whoever was behind them had wanted me to find the connection to Sandra’s brother, and they’d succeeded. The next question was why and what they wanted from me.

I forced myself out of bed, showered, and headed to campus. The routine of classes and tutoring was a welcome distraction, but even as I sat in the lecture hall, scribbling notes, my mind wandered back to Mason. To Sandra. To Charles.

By the time I left campus, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the streets. I pulled my coat tighter around me, quickening my pace. The feeling of being watched was hard to shake, though every time I glanced over my shoulder, the streets were empty.

When I reached the apartment, the lights were off, and the silence felt heavier than usual. Mason wasn’t home yet, and it bothered me. I don't want to stay on my own.

I needed time to think also, to process everything without his intense gaze dissecting my every move.

I dropped my bag by the door and made my way to the kitchen, pulling out leftovers from the fridge. The hum of the microwave filled the quiet, grounding me for a moment.

Then the knock came.

I froze, my pulse quickening. It wasn’t the usual rhythmic tap Mason used. It was sharp. Loud. Demanding.

Swallowing my fear, I approached the door slowly, peering through the peephole. A man stood on the other side, his features obscured by the dim light in the hallway. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and unfamiliar.

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Delivery,” he replied gruffly, holding up a brown envelope.

I hesitated. I hadn’t ordered anything. And Mason hadn’t mentioned expecting a package.

“I didn’t order anything,” I said, my hand still on the lock.

“It’s already paid for,” the man said, his tone curt. “Just sign for it.”

Something about this didn’t feel right. My instincts screamed at me to walk away, to leave the door locked and call Mason. But my curiosity won out.

Against my better judgment, I cracked the door open just enough to see the man more clearly. He held out the envelope, and I took it cautiously.

“Who sent this?” I asked.

The man didn’t answer. He turned and walked away without another word, disappearing down the dimly lit hallway.

I closed the door quickly, locking it behind me. My hands trembled as I stared at the envelope. It was plain, unmarked, and sealed with tape.

Taking a deep breath, I opened it. Inside was a single piece of paper with a printed message:

“He’s lying to you. Look closer.”

My stomach twisted as I stared at the words. Beneath them was a photograph, it's a little blue but unmistakable. It was Mason, standing with another man I didn’t recognize. The two of them were outside what looked like a warehouse, their expressions tense.

Before I could examine it further, my phone buzzed on the counter. I grabbed it, my heart pounding when I saw Mason’s name on the screen.

“Hey,” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I’m on my way home,” he said, his tone casual. “You okay?”

I hesitated, my gaze flicking back to the photo. “Yeah, just tired. Long day.”

“You sure? You sound off.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, forcing a smile he couldn’t see. “I’ll see you soon.”

As I hung up, I set the phone down and stared at the photo again. My mind raced with questions. Who was the man with Mason? What was the connection to Sandra and Charles? And most importantly, how much more was Mason keeping from me?

By the time he walked through the door an hour later, I’d hidden the envelope and the photo in my desk drawer. I wasn’t ready to confront him. 

At least, not yet.

But one thing was clear: the more I dug, the more tangled this web became. And I was no longer sure who I could trust, not even Mason.

When he got back, the suffocating tension hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown worse. Mason had barely spoken as he got back to work almost immediately on his laptop, his movements sharp and precise like a soldier preparing for battle.

“I have to be somewhere now. I'll be back before you go to bed.” He called from the living room. 

I watched him from my room's doorway, hugging myself as I leaned against the frame. His shoulders were rigid, his back to me as he holstered his weapon and slid on his jacket.

“You’re going out there alone,” I said quietly, my voice breaking the silence.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?” I countered, stepping into the living room. “Mason, whoever’s behind this… they know things. They’re watching us, and you’re walking straight into their trap.”

He turned fully then, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “I don’t have a choice, Happiness. I can’t sit back and wait for them to make their next move. I need to get ahead of this.”

“And what if you don’t come back?” I asked, my voice trembling. “What if they’re waiting for you to slip up, and I lose you?”

For a moment, his expression softened, the walls he’d built around himself cracking just enough for me to see the worry he was trying to hide.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, crossing the room to stand in front of me. His hands came up to cradle my face, his touch warm despite the chill in the air. “I promise you, Happiness. I’ll come back. I’ll always come back.”

Tears welled in my eyes, but I nodded, leaning into his touch. “Just... be careful, okay? I can’t lose you.”

His lips brushed with mine in a fleeting kiss before he stepped back, the protective shield sliding back into place. “Stay here. Lock the doors. Don’t open them for anyone but me.”

I wanted to argue, to beg him to let me help, but I knew it would be futile. Mason was too stubborn, too determined to shield me from the darkness that surrounded us.