Chapter 1 - YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO STOP HIM
The plan had one rule I kept repeating to myself.
Do not fight Mason Reed.
No matter what he said.
No matter how close he got.
No matter how badly every instinct in my body told me to run.
That was why, when Mason came across the airport pickup lane toward me, I stayed beside the row of luggage carts.
Hudson International was loud enough to swallow almost anything.
Rolling suitcases.
Car horns.
Drivers shouting names.
A family arguing over which parking garage they had used.
People kept moving beneath the concrete overhang.
Nobody knew I was waiting for one particular man.
Mason stopped five feet away.
Thirty-eight.
Airport security supervisor.
Dark uniform jacket.
Radio clipped high on his shoulder.
He looked at my phone.
Then at me.
“You brought it.”
I kept my hand around the phone.
“I brought what you asked for.”
“Let me see it.”
“Not here.”
His jaw tightened.
That was supposed to happen.
He was supposed to insist.
I was supposed to make him move me.
Not because I enjoyed being shoved around.
Because thirty yards away, inside a black SUV, someone was waiting for exactly that.
Mason stepped closer.
“You said you had the original transfer record.”
“I said I had proof.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
He reached.
I pulled the phone back.
His hand moved faster.
He snatched it out of my grip.
“Hey.”
He threw it onto the pavement.
The screen hit first.
Cracked.
Then he grabbed my arm.
Hard.
“You’re coming with me.”
My heart kicked against my ribs.
This was the point.
This was what we had discussed.
I was supposed to let him get me moving toward his vehicle.
Ten more yards.
Maybe twelve.
Then Grant would step in.
I struggled enough to keep Mason believing I was resisting.
Not enough to break away.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Mason pulled harder.
“Stop making this worse.”
Then a woman I had never seen before came straight at us.
Blonde.
Dark green travel coat.
One rolling suitcase abandoned behind her.
“Let her go.”
Mason turned.
“Stay out of this.”
She knocked his hand off my arm.
Clean.
Fast.
For one second I thought:
No.
Mason thought something else.
He shoved her.
Hard.
Her back hit a concrete pillar.
People nearby gasped.
She straightened almost immediately.
Mason moved toward her again.
Bad decision.
She slipped slightly to one side and punched him across the face.
His head snapped back.
I stared.
Not relieved.
Terrified.
“Stop.”
Nobody heard me.
Mason charged.
The woman caught his arm.
Turned.
Used his momentum.
And dumped him onto the pavement.
Hard.
His shoulder hit first.
Then his hip.
The woman looked toward me.
She expected gratitude.
Instead she saw my face.
I took one step back.
She frowned.
“Are you okay?”
I looked at Mason.
Then at her.
“You weren’t supposed to stop him.”
She froze.
Mason lifted his head from the pavement.
“What?”
The black SUV beside us unlocked.
The rear door opened.
A pair of polished dark shoes stepped out.
Then charcoal suit trousers.
From where I stood, the rest of the man remained blocked by the open door and roofline.
Mason saw the shoes.
Something changed in his face.
Not anger.
Fear.
The unseen man spoke.
“She was supposed to lead him to me.”
I went pale.
The woman slowly looked from the SUV—
to Mason.
Mason pushed himself halfway upright.
Then stopped.
May you like
Because whatever he thought I had been doing—
he had just realized I had not been doing it alone.
