Chapter 19

Mason lives alonein a house bigger than his balls, bought with his daddy's money. There are only three guards around the perimeter, and I already have a plan for how to take them out.

It only took me a couple of hours to get to his home with the traffic. I had to make sure the fecking prick was back before I did what I came to do. When I heard him hurting her, I rushed over, wanting to slice his goddamn throat. But I missed him.

I won't miss now.

I move toward one of the guards from behind, standing alone at the back at the house, and silently, I grab him around his throat and put a bullet in his temple. The shot is muffled by the silencer.

I slink toward the front of the house where the other two men are stationed, my nine at my side.

Something cracks beneath my foot. Maybe a branch.

Shite.

"Did you hear that?" one of the men asks.

"No idea. Go check it out. Let me know if you find anything."

"Yeah. Alright."

Here we go.

As soon as footfalls pummel closer, I get ready behind a shrub. When he comes around the corner, I manage to surprise him and step out, a bullet piercing his forehead.

He falls to the ground with a loud thud.

One remains between me and Mason feckin' Reynolds.

"Hey, you there?" The other one starts heading for my direction. "What the fuck you doing?"

I'm waiting there with a pistol pointing right at his head when he appears.

"What the…" Before his hand even reaches his waistband, a bullet rips between his eyes.

I brush past his dead body and head for the bastard who dared to hurt her.

Guess he thought I was bluffing when I warned him to keep his hands to himself. He's going to learn that I'm a man who keeps his word.

I know Mason is home. Only identified one body inside with my motion detection device.

Removing a keycard from one of the guards, I use it to scan the door and let myself in the back, careful to shut the door quietly. I already know where Mason is: past the long foyer, sitting in the den on his laptop.

He doesn't hear me as I start toward him from behind.

My gun is pointing at the back of his head. "Do you remember what I said to you at the diner?"

His body jolts as he turns his neck and stares right at me, laptop plummeting to the floor. He doesn't appear afraid. Not yet. He's used to making others afraid of him.

"What the hell are you doing here? My guards will have your head!"

I chuckle as I round the sofa, the pistol in my grasp. "Unfortunately for you, they're all dead."

"Wh-what? You killed them? Are you insane?! Do you know what I'll do to you?" He mashes his teeth.

"I asked you a bloody question, arsehole! Do you recall what I said to you when you touched her at the diner?"

"I don't care!" His fingers curl on his thigh. "Get the hell out of my house before I get the police. If you leave now, I'll tell the cops it was a robbery."

I continue to glare. "Seems you have a faulty memory. I told you that if you touched her again, you'd see what I'd do to your hand."

His fingers slowly slip under the sofa cushion, and I know immediately what he plans to do. But I let him, knowing he won't be able to take a shot before I do.

As soon as he removes a pistol, I pull the trigger, and a bullet rips right through his hand.

"Fuck!" he screams a deafening sound, his weapon falling to his feet.

I fling over my string bag from my back. The one carrying a cordless reciprocating saw.

"Please!" he begs, his eyes pleading as I remove it. "Wha-what are you gonna do with that?"

He gets up and runs.

"That was a big mistake." I release a groan, chasing him before I throw him onto the floor, settling over his body.

I grab the hand I shot and flip on the saw. The echoing sound makes the hairs on his arm stand up.

He cries real tears.

Now we're talking…

"Hold still." A smile flips up the corner of my mouth.

"Please, man. Please don't do this!" He fights me, shouting for help to no avail.

"You come after her, you come after me."

With no mercy, I pin his wrist to the floor and push the tip of the saw right into it.

There's blood everywhere. His screaming can be heard for miles. Flesh and bone ripped through, broken and shattered, until I have his hand in my grasp, completely dismembered.

"O-o-oh my God!" he hollers, trembling in agony, his chest pummeling with rapid breaths.

"That's what happens when you touch what belongs to me. And if you do it again—if you so much as look at her wrong—I'll take your other hand."

He sobs, grabbing his arm while I get off him and head for his fireplace. He bleeds across his porcelain floor, somehow watching me through it all. Which is a good thing. Wouldn't want him to miss this part.

I toss his hand into the fireplace, the skin blistering in the wild flames.

"NO!" he howls, but I ignore it.

"You will not marry her. Do you understand?" I stand over him now. "You will tell your father you changed your mind."

"No! Please. I—I have to!"

"You have to?" I kneel and grab his shirt, pulling him to a stand. "What are you talking about?"

When he continues to cry, my patience runs out.

"I'll make you bleed out if you don't tell me what that means."

"I—I can't disappoint my father. I have to do what he wants, or I don't get my inheritance! Oh, God, I need a doctor! Please!"

I let him go. This is about his money, huh?

I find his phone on the sofa and throw it at his chest. "If you tell anyone what happened here, I will kill you."

He shakes his head frantically. "I won't. I s-swear."

"I already took care of your cameras and wiped all the footage from today."

I take my shite and head back into my car, flipping my hoodie back over my head.

If this comes back to me, I'll serve my time with a bloody smile on my face because, for her, it's worth it.

I'm gonna be setting up a meeting with her father to tell him she isn't marrying Mason. After what he did to her, I won't allow it.

Too bad Patrick is away on business. But he should be back in a few days. Once he gives me the confirmation, I'll tell Eriu that she's finally free.