In His Sights Read online

  Mason threw the folder he was holding onto his desk and paced the room. He stopped, his hands grabbing the back of his chair, his grip tight. He scrunched his eyes closed, his focus on the events of the previous year.

  Mason’s eyes popped back open, and he gazed at the pictures. The subject this time: a location, rather than a face. A market in the Middle East—Kunduz. Even though the picture appeared grainy, Mason could make out the identification of the two men, who pulled this part of the case together.

  “The two of you were spotted at the location as close as two days from the kill.” It couldn’t have been a better capture unless the men had been found with the gun in hand.

  Mason peered at the mess around the room, and his head hurt. “With so much proof, what am I missing?” Come on Abdul, give me something. Anything.

  Mason racked his brain for another two hours. Went through all the paperwork he’d gone through a zillion times before. Still not finding a damn thing that could help him.

  He closed his eyes, bent over, and let his head rest on his crossed arms. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he kept missing, and staring at the same information he’d been all along wasn’t going to help. Perhaps he should accept he’d been on the wrong trail. And as much as he hadn’t believed it, maybe all this destruction had been done at the hands of Mamba. Could be he’d been obsessed with the case. Because of his sister—the promise he made her. Perhaps Mamba had killed her husband. Mason didn’t believe the thoughts as they went through his mind, but perhaps now was the time he should try.

  He lifted his head, then the rest of his body. He’d step back for a bit. Take a breather, before he burned out.

  Outside of his office, he listened. The house sat quiet. Noah wasn’t back yet. Odd. He’d only gone for walk. Did he stop at the gym? Nope, he wore jeans. Mason glanced at the kitchen clock. It’d been almost three hours since he’d locked himself away. That gave Noah plenty of time to be back from his walk. He’s a big boy. I’m sure he’s fine. Besides, if he got lost, he has my number to call. As that thought came, he spotted Noah’s phone sitting on the counter by the dish drain. Fuck. Mason strode over and picked it up. The battery was dead. Mason pulled a charger out of the junk drawer and plugged the phone in. Then he moved over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.

  Now Noah couldn’t contact Mason if he got into trouble. Refusing to worry, Mason gulped down his drink. Noah was a Navy SEAL. No way he’d end up lost. He’s fine. Mason’s mind went back to the last time Noah had come there and had gotten mugged. The only reason that guy had successfully attacked Noah had been because Noah’s mind had been elsewhere at the time. No way would Noah make that mistake again, and no way would someone be able to take him down if he was ready for them.

  Mason decided to stop those types of thoughts. Noah would be back soon, and he’d be fine. If he didn’t make it back within an hour, Mason would worry then. He glanced at the clock to ensure he’d know when an hour passed.

  Mason was on his second water, his seventh pace around the house, and heading outside to put the sprinklers on when his phone rang. At first anxious, Mason remembered Noah couldn’t call without his phone. He peered at the screen. Not recognizing the number, he picked up anyway.

  “Hi, Mason?”

  Shit. “Hey, Marcus.” Just what I need right now. To talk to my ex. Why did I answer? “What’s up?”

  “You missing something?”

  Not you. “What?” Mason ran his hand through his hair, confused.

  “Maybe I should ask, you missing someone?”

  Mason really wasn’t in the mood for games. “What’s up, Marcus?”

  “There’s a guy down here, and I think he’s with you.”

  “What?” Mason still hadn’t caught on.

  “Some guy came in tonight. Mentioned your name earlier. I figured you knew him.”

  Noah. “Yeah. Everything okay? How come you’re calling?”

  “Things are not so good down here. He started some shit with a few guys, and I don’t think he’s going to make it out of here unassisted, and the assistance they’re offering isn’t going to get him out in one piece.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. Need you down here now. If they start something, I’m calling the cops.”

  Mason grabbed his keys and darted out of the house as the other man talked. Thankfully, the drive would take him less than five minutes.

  Mason arrived at the bar. He found six men from what he could see, and five of them seemed to be beating up on the same one. Noah.

  Instead of barging into the middle of the fight, an idea sparked Mason’s brain. He remained where he was and yelled out, “Police.”

  The five guys whose attention he’d tried to gain all stopped mid-swing, letting their piece of meat fall to the ground, then they took off. Mason moved quickly. He made it to Noah in a matter of seconds. But before Mason could assess any of the damage, Noah got on his feet, fists in the air, swinging at Mason. Mason, defending himself, called out to Noah. Acting as if they were strangers, Noah never slowed at the sound of his name.

  Mason gained the upper hand, pushing Noah up against the wall. Mason’s last punch hit Noah right in the ribs, and the strike wasn’t the first shot Mason landed. There’d definitely be a mark. Adrenaline continued to rush through Mason, his anger remained steady. What the fuck had Noah been thinking? Starting a fight with a group of guys, and when Mason removed him from the situation, Noah swung at him. He wouldn’t stop until Mason had kicked his ass.

  The red haze clouding Mason’s movements faded. He wasn’t done with Noah yet, but he had a clearer view of him. And when he looked Noah in the eyes, Mason froze. There was something Mason recognized. Something he hadn’t seen in years, but would never forget. It only took a few moments for everything to come clear. The first time he’d seen Noah at the airport, instigating a fight with four guys, not caring he’d be outnumbered, not caring if he’d get his ass kicked. Then again tonight. Fighting with more men then he could handle. Although, from what Mason saw, Noah wasn’t fighting when Mason arrived. Noah had stood there, taking what those guys had to give.

  Mason took inventory of himself. There wasn’t a scratch on him. Not because he’d moved quick enough to evade all Noah’s swings. No. Because Noah hadn’t landed any. Noah swung but avoided doing any damage. Instead, he got Mason so caught up, he hadn’t realized he’d been the only one fighting.

  Chapter 18

  Mason stared at Noah, who no longer stood against the wall. He crouched down, his elbows on his knees, and his face in his hands. Mason put his hands on Noah’s shoulders, and Noah’s body trembled. Mason hesitated, then gently took Noah’s hands in his and moved them away from Noah’s face. Noah’s chin dropped down to his chest, his shoulders slouched. Mason moved his hand to Noah’s chin, wanting Noah to look at him. Noah opened his eyes. His blank stare greeted Mason.

  “I’m sorry, Mason. I’m so sorry.” Noah choked out his words as his body shook.

  “Fuck.” Mason took a deep breath. The need to comfort Noah overtook all others. Kneeling down next to him, Mason pulled Noah into his arms. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re good now. Let’s go home.” Mason stood up, but Noah didn’t move.

  They only had two blocks to travel. That reason, among others, had made this bar a favorite of Mason’s. But unfortunately, he wouldn’t be welcomed back for a while because of Noah’s actions. Mason would call Marcus and apologize. Mason would blame the incident on a rough breakup and too much alcohol.

  He focused back on the man still squatted down on the ground next to him. Mason’s legs weakened. He wanted nothing more than to kneel back down and console Noah. But Mason couldn’t. What he saw in Noah’s stare had him standing immobile.

  His instincts buried deep inside, kicked in. He stood taller and in a voice that left little doubt he would accept an honest answer, he asked, “Was that enough?”

  “Yes.” Noah kept his gaze downcast a
s he answered.

  “Are you able to stand up on your own or do you need help?”

  Noah stood, and although wobbly at times, he ambled over toward the truck. Once there, Noah leaned against the door as Mason fished the keys out of his pocket, and opened the door.

  Mason stared at Noah, his eyes glazed over, his expression filled with need.

  Mason put his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “We’re done for the night.” Now’s the time for taking care of you. No more pain. “And we’re going to have a long talk before this ever happens again.”

  Noah closed his eyes and tried to pull away. Mason wasn’t having any of it. He tightened his grip on the man. “I want to check you over before we leave.”

  “Thank you.” Noah whispered.

  Mason’s hands carefully brushed over Noah’s face, making sure the bruises were just that, then Mason lifted Noah’s shirt checking his ribs weren’t broken; still in one piece, he was covered with dark red marks. Fuck.

  Adrenaline surged through Mason’s body, his heart pounded in his ears and his anger sizzled. What the hell had gone through Noah’s brain—picking a fight with five guys? They could have killed him. And what the hell had they been thinking, taking on one guy? “Son of a fuck.”

  Noah kept his eyes closed as Mason checked him.

  “I’m sorry.” Noah sounded like a wounded animal.

  “Shh. Shh. You don’t need to be sorry. You’re okay.” Mason leaned over and placed a kiss on Noah’s forehead. If Mason went any closer to Noah’s lips, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Mason believed the beatings had started as a way for Noah to punish himself, and the only reason Mason could think Noah felt he needed to be punished was because he liked men instead of women. Fuck. How could Mason help Noah accept that part of himself? Mason didn’t know if that was even possible. How would Mason get through to Noah, get him to understand who he was, and that what he felt was okay? Help him accept he was normal?

  The ride to the house flew. The trip didn’t give Mason enough time to figure things out. He wasn’t ready to talk to Noah. Anger still raged through Mason, and if he wanted to do any good with their talk, he needed to calm down and be in his right mind. Mason would also need Noah fully aware when they talked. A wasted Noah wasn’t going to fly. Although Mason doubted Noah was as wasted as he made it look. Noah must have been at least coherent enough to orchestrate all the shit that had gone down at the bar. Mason’s thinking was if Noah had been truly wasted—wasted beyond brain function—he would’ve taken the five guys out. No way would they’d have gotten in more than one shot each. Noah was that trained. For him to hold back, he would have to have been in full control, wanting it to happen.

  Mason stepped out of the truck, then went around to the other side to open Noah’s door. Noah’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t sleeping. Mason figured Noah was trying to hide from Mason. Well, the game wasn’t going to work. Mason was sure, now more than ever, that punishing himself was part of the reason Noah had taken off in the middle of the night the first time they’d been together. That may have been Noah’s first time with a man he hadn’t met in a back alley—or at least one of a very few—and that, as well as the act, had freaked him out, causing him to run.

  Out of the truck, Mason stood ready to grab Noah if the need arose. Once inside, Mason led Noah directly to the guest bedroom. He thought it best they spent the night in different beds—if not for Noah, then for Mason. Time would help him pull his thoughts together. They were going to have a talk the next day. Whether or not Noah wanted to.

  Mason sat Noah down on the bed, then helped him get undressed. Noah remained still, letting Mason take charge. When Mason took off Noah’s shirt, he could already see the bruising on his chest. Noah needed ice on his chest, but Mason didn’t have the patience to take care of Noah right then. Instead, he’d grab a couple bags of frozen vegetables, and let Noah take care of himself. Mason’s anger was still too strong, Mason was afraid he’d lose his calm if he were with Noah much longer. With Noah in just his boxer briefs, Mason lay him down in the bed and put the spread over him. Then he kissed his forehead, and left the room. He immediately went to the kitchen and into the freezer.

  Armed with the frozen bags, Mason went back into the room. “These are for the bruises on your chest.”

  Noah didn’t acknowledge him, so Mason snatched a T-shirt from his drawer and put the cloth under the bags on the night table, then left the room.

  Standing out in the hall, the urge to hit something overwhelmed Mason. Or rather someone. Like those five guys from the bar. It shouldn’t have mattered what Noah had said, those assholes should never have ganged up five to one, unless they’d really planned to hurt him. And maybe they had. Mason’s stomach dropped, and he sent up a quick prayer of thanks he’d made it to the bar when he had. Why hadn’t Marcus called the police like he’d said he would? That was a question only Marcus would be able to answer, and what better time than right then. Mason dialed the number. The man picked the phone up on the first ring and thankfully, the background noise was minimal.

  “Hey, Marcus.”

  “Mason, everything okay?”

  “As okay as it can be. What the hell happened?”

  “Not really too sure. Your friend came in, had a couple drinks.”

  “What happened with him and those guys? Who started the fight?”

  “Your guy came in and chatted for a bit. Seemed like an okay guy. Your name came up and everything was fine. By the time I set him up with his third drink, he became a little less talkative. He appeared tired. He said he had walked there, and I suggested he should head home. He didn’t like that idea too much, so I didn’t push. While I got him change, he went over and talked to those guys. Not sure what was said, but everything seemed fine. Then about a half hour later, one of the guys came over to the bar and started talking to him again. They talked about fifteen minutes before things seemed to go bad. Three other guys came over, your guy yelled some shit, then the other one was there. That’s when I kicked the whole group out, and I called you.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. He’s going through some bad crap right now.” No way would Mason share his theory of why Noah had instigated the fight.

  “Listen, I get it. Just make certain you keep him tucked in for the night. I heard the other group talking about coming back and this time not stopping. I have no doubt you can single-handedly take them down, and your friend, too, if he’d lay off the alcohol, I don’t want it happening at my place. Got enough to deal with. Don’t need the police or the reputation.”

  “I understand, Marcus. We’ll stay away. And again, thanks for calling me. I was happy to avoid a fight.”

  “Well I heard you didn’t, but that’s your problem to deal with.”

  Mason almost choked. Evidently, someone had witnessed the fight between him and Noah. Did they also realize it’d been one-sided? “Thanks again,” Mason said, keeping his voice steady. He hung up quickly before anything else could be said or asked.

  Now all he had to do was face Noah in the morning. Great. And there was no way they’d go camping. Not after the shit that happened, never mind Noah’s condition. They needed to talk, for Mason to find out the true reason for the fight. He’d make Noah open up to him, even if it killed him.

  Mason walked down the hall to the guest room, slid the door open, and peeked in to check that Noah was out. His eyes were closed but the expression on his face was far from relaxed. Dammit. Mason walked into the room and sat down on the chair. He’d watch to make sure Noah wasn’t going to wake up. That he was asleep for the night. Even though a part of Mason wished they could start their conversation right then, another part of him was scared shitless—thinking tomorrow would come soon enough. Mason leaned back and got comfortable in the chair. He tried to straighten out his thoughts about what he would say come morning.

  He closed his eyes and was immediately accosted with an image of Noah. Him fresh from the fight. A mixture of anger and fear coated
his expression; a combination Mason was familiar with. One he’d seen several times before. One he dreaded revisiting. But he didn’t have a choice. If his suspicions regarding Noah were correct, and he was more than ninety percent sure they were, then the man needed him. And Mason would be there for him.

  It was late and Mason was tired. Noah had stopped moving, and Mason felt sure it’d be safe to leave him alone. He was out for the night. Mason stood up, took one last peek at Noah, and left the room.

  Once in the hall, a flush of fresh air washed over Mason. He was able to breathe. Mason needed to move beyond his own fear. He’d be talking to Noah in the morning, no matter what.

  By the time Mason made it into bed, it was after 01:00 A.M. His body and mind were both worn out. He thought exhaustion would ensure a good night’s sleep. But instead, he was up at 03:00 A.M., then again at 04:30 A.M., staring at the glow of the clock. Fuck. He wasn’t going to be any good to anyone if he didn’t sleep.

  Chapter 19

  Noah rolled over and everything hurt—almost as much as when he’d gone through hell week. “Fuck me.” The sun’s rays seeped through the shades blinding him, and causing a sharp ache in his head. He slammed his eyes shut, but that didn’t come without pain either. He had no one to blame but himself—no one fed him drinks. He should’ve skipped the bar and come back to the house. So what if Mason had remained locked up in his office—that’s what Noah had wanted—time alone, away from Mason.

  But instead, he’d gone to the bar and drank too much. The night before, when he’d been focused on Mason—what they had done, what they would do—getting wasted had seemed like a good idea. But now, how would Noah explain his actions to Mason?

  Everything would’ve worked out fine if Mason had stayed home instead of coming out to look for Noah. Then, when Noah had come back, all Mason would’ve known was Noah enjoyed himself a little too much. But since Mason had shown up at the bar and witnessed the fallout, Noah needed to come up with answers as to how and why the fight had started. And Noah wasn’t sure he could answer that.