“Well, give me a couple minutes to get things together. Like I said, I didn’t think she was having you come.” He stood up and left the trailer, his feet pounded against the floor with hard thuds.
I looked at Mason the minute we were alone. I really hoped he wasn’t as stupid as he was acting right now.
“This doesn’t feel right, Mason,” I said as soon as we were alone.
Mason looked at me, his expression unchanging. He was trying to make sense of it, of everything that was happening. I had already and I knew it wasn’t good.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, but something isn’t right. We shouldn’t be here.” I stopped talking as soon as the door opened. The man who’d just been here came back in carrying a black duffle bag. Another man followed in behind him.
He stood in the doorway, his muscular frame evident from the sunlight coming in through the windows. He was a tall man, handsome and tan—the complete opposite of the grizzly man with the duffle bag. I looked over at him and a small smile flashed across his face as we locked eyes. I didn’t smile back. He was blocking the door for some reason and I knew it couldn’t be good.
“Well, come take a look. Your mom asked for my best,” he said, waving Mason over.
Mason grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me up with him. I looked at the scary man, his expression stayed the same. We both peered into the bag at the same time. The bag contained a large variety of handguns and shotguns.
That certainly didn’t make me feel any better.
“Guns,” Mason said.
“That’s my specialty,” he said, rifling through the bag. He pulled out a long black case, brandishing a large knife. I swear it was sharp enough to kill a bear with one swipe. “And knives.”
“I don’t know what she’s looking for and I don’t have any money.” Mason backed up.
I looked around the room knowing the only way we were leaving was if we could get past the man blocking the door. “That makes sense seeing your mom told us to forget it,” the man at the door said. He stepped forward, eying the two of us.
“Yeah, she told us you were a piece of work. Mom knows best right? She assumed you’d still show up though,” the grizzly man said.
Mason shrugged.
I looked around the room for anything I might grab to defend myself in case things turned ugly.
“We can leave,” Mason proposed as he took my hand. “Come on, Kendall.”
I stayed where I was. That was a stupid assumption on Mason’s part because we weren’t going anywhere.
“No, I don’t think so, Mason,” the handsome one said. He touched my hair, letting it slip through his fingers. He seemed amused with our dilemma.
“Look, Kendall has nothing to do with my mom and me,” Mason said.
Judging by the look on their faces neither one of them cared.
“Your mom seems to think you need to be taught a lesson. And that’s another one of my specialties,” the grizzly man said as he came around the desk.
I couldn’t contain my fear any longer. As he came around the desk holding that knife, I screamed. Payton was insane and I knew we were doomed. You didn’t want to be on Payton’s bad side. I had known for weeks that Mason had stepped on Payton’s toes one too many times. Payton wanted Mason to pay for going against her.
“Don’t worry, none of these are loaded,” the grizzly man said.
“These two are though,” the other guy said, lifting his shirt. Two guns were nestled in the waist of his pants.
“Come on, sweetie,” the handsome one said, grabbing me by the elbow.
Mason jumped in front of me to stop him from taking me out of the trailer. He pushed Mason back and reminded him who was in charge by lifting his shirt again to reveal the loaded guns. Mason didn’t back off.
“Mason, please stop,” I said. I knew he regretted forcing me to go along with his plan. I felt bad for him.
“I’m sorry, Kendall,” he said.
I followed the man out of the trailer, looking back at Mason once as I left.
“You can call me Mark,” he said, pulling me down the rickety stairs. His hand remained gripped on my arm.
“Kendall,” I said. I kept my eyes glued to the ground. I could hear the grizzly man’s voice coming from the trailer. I wondered what they were going to do to Mason. Were they crazy enough to kill him?
I began to cry at Mason’s unknown fate. Tears slid down my face. It wasn’t a surprise really; I’d known for some time we’d eventually be facing something like this. I just wasn’t ready to face it yet…not now.
“Why are you crying?” Mark asked.
“Mason doesn’t deserve this, sir.” I wouldn’t look at him.
“Whoa now, no need to call me sir. I’m thirty-seven, not fifty.” He unlocked the door to a small garage. Inside were several cars and a bunch of boxes. Tools lined the pegboard on the walls giving me several choices for a weapon in case I needed to defend myself.
“Ahh, Sam’s a big teddy bear,” he said dismissively. “He’s just doing a favor for an old pal. It’s not often the women line up for him,” he said, a big grin spreading across his face as he stared at me. He shut the door and leaned against it.
“Mason doesn’t deserve this,” I said again. I wondered if we were going to make it out of here alive.
“Seems not everyone agrees with your opinion.” He crossed his arms. “You guys run around with that crazy broad?”
I nodded.
“She’s a looker, but she’s nuts.”
I wondered how Payton knew these people.
“Are you going to kill us?” I asked finally. I watched him closely. His arm stayed crossed, his posture relaxed.
“I’m just the doorman,” he offered.
I knew he was full of crap. Men like this were capable of anything and would kill in a heartbeat and not blink an eye.
“What are you…about eighteen?” he asked. I nodded even though it wasn’t true—didn’t matter.
“Kids your age make a lot of mistakes. Probably like the one you made today.” He came closer, his eyes an intent stare.
I wondered what he was thinking about doing with me.
“I like to think I’m not so naïve,” I said, my voice so low I could barely hear myself.
He pulled the gun from his waist, running it along my cheek and back down to my lips. I blinked back the tears at his sick game.
He finally stopped the gun at my temple, my pulse beating against the pressure of the cold metal.
“Do you think you’re a good person, Kendall?”
“No, not at all,” I said, swallowing down the misery of my honest answer.
“Really?” he asked, one eyebrow lifted in confusion. “Are you afraid to die?”
I wanted to spit in his face for his cruelty. Why didn’t he just pull the trigger and end it already. A part of me, however, silently begged that he wouldn’t shoot me.
“No, I’m not afraid to die,” I admitted. I closed my eyes and the tears fell quickly. “I’m not afraid of much in life. I’ve seen too much to be scared.”
He let out a sigh. I opened my eyes. He pulled the gun away from me.
He turned his back to me and moved to the door. I took the opportunity to pull a dumbbell out of a box behind me. I quickly hid it behind me. Fortunately, he was none the wiser.
“Well, Kendall, we’ve got two options,” he said, looking around the garage.
I nodded, my heart pounding erratically in my chest as he came closer. I increased the pressure on the dumbbell, squeezing it tighter so it wouldn’t fall to the ground.
I no longer heard anything he was saying. The adrenaline in my body took over and I remained focused on his head—my intended target.
I took a deep breath and swung before I had time to change my mind. I connected with the side of his head before dropping the barbell.