MASON (Second Chance Novels Book 2) (18 page)

"No, I want to. You know, I actually missed you after we found Cam. Then when you called me, I knew you understood how well we fit, too. You couldn't leave the investigation half-finished any easier than I could. I had to choke back my attraction, and I could deal with that…until I saw it."

"Saw what?" I ask, still sitting across from her in her car.

"The bullshit. Every time I went to the Second Chance, I saw your performance for your friends. I saw Ledger quietly annoyed by it, and I saw Jackson, Shelby, Cam, and everyone sitting at the bar soak it up. When I saw how disconnected you and Shelby were, it killed me to watch you with her when there was nothing real between you."

"I was fighting myself the whole time," I say quietly.

"I know," Sofia says with complete understanding. "I saw how you looked at me sometimes, and I understood why you held back. But still, it killed me. I should have been upfront with you."

When I work up the nerve to look her in the eye, I see a very solemn, very beautiful face looking at me. We hold each other's gaze for a moment before she leans over and takes my face solidly in her hands. She pushes her lips on mine for one deep, connecting kiss. With a final understanding expression on her face, she nods to me as if everything is decided.
 

"I'm going inside," she says simply. "I'll see you in a while."

I watch her exit the car and enter my house. She really fucking gets it. All of me. And I can sit here as long as I want without drama from her. She doesn't ask me to share my feelings or make promises about our future. She simply understands and offers patience. Un-fucking-real. I didn't know a person like her could exist, or that I would be lucky enough to have a chance with her.

I sit for a long time, allowing the final hint of fog to lift from my brain. I think of Shelby's hurt and my own flaws that led to her pain. But mostly I focus on the true person that I am, and I marvel at how easily Sofia sees me to the core in spite of how lost I've been. I can only imagine how frustrated she has been, watching me try to be something other than myself. Again I'm astounded by her patience. I won't make either of us wait any longer. She has all of me.
 

Finally clear-headed for the first time in maybe years, I exit her car and jog to my front steps. I open the door, walk straight to Sofia, and grab her face strongly in my hands. I don't bother to look her in the eye or whisper my surrender. I want her to
experience
my surrender…and I kiss her desperately to show her. I pull her in tight and wrap her up strongly in my arms. I stumble to the wall and trap her there. Her hands grip around me as I hitch her up to get at her neck.
 

"
prendere tutto di me
," she demands.
Take all of me
.
 

"All of you," I confirm heatedly against her neck.
 

I carry her to my bed and give myself to her in return. I make love to her, every muscle tense as I surround her and fill her. Our bodies are nearly shaking with the strength of holding on. Without words we tug at each other, interlocking ourselves in unwavering strength. I feel her bicep harden as she pulls me forcefully against her. She grips my thighs and digs her nails against them, my muscles too powerfully flexed to give in to the pressure of her fingers. We move, both bodies hard and unyielding, which only adds to the intensity of the friction. By the time we both reach our climax, we're breathing heavily together, and holding so hard against each other. I can't fathom how two bodies can fit together so perfectly, holding their individual strength but connecting nonetheless.
 

"
Sei mio,
" I tell her, claiming her as my own.

"
E tu sei mio
," she returns.

Still tangled together, I pull her wrist to my lips, simply to find another way to appreciate her. I rest her into the sheets with me, and without another word, we allow ourselves to rest deeply, sated with the knowledge that we are finally what we were meant to be this entire time.
 

 
I wake up beside a still-sleeping Sofia, and I lay in quiet shock knowing she's in my arms. She has her head resting on my chest and her arm sprawled lazily across my abdomen. The feel of her cool hair on my skin and her warm breath breezing along my chest offers as strong a sensation as last night's connection. That hot fuck could better be described as love making for the two of us. With a love this basic, this solid, this simplistically true, the pace doesn't need to be slow or romantic to prove the depth behind the connection.
 

For a long while I rest with her, twisting her hair in my fingers and simply watching her breathe. I can honestly say this is the first time I've felt true happiness in a very long time. Unable to resist, I slowly bury my entire hand into the hair at the base of her neck, gently moving my fingers through the waves. I want to take all of her in, and experience every possible way there is to make my body a part of hers.
 

"Hmmm," she stirs and stretches. I keep my hand in her hair and gently grip so I can guide her to my lips. She kisses me sleepily and gazes at me with a soft, drowsy smile when she eases away. "Morning," she mumbles in a tired, content voice.

"Morning," I return.
 

"You ok today?" she asks.

"I'm ok, baby," I nod.

She knows me well enough to understand there will be no more benders for me. We broke the barrier between us, and there's no need for questions or regrets any longer. I kiss her one more time, deeply, simply because I can.
 

I'm sure words aren't necessary, but I need her to understand. I need to know she gets it. She reaches her hands to my face again and I gaze intensely, hoping to see in her eyes the exact emotion I'm reveling in. What I see is total connection displayed through a bemused expression. I have to grin at her smile.
 

"Never call me baby again," she says with a quirked eyebrow, still sleepy. "And if you so much as
come close
to telling me how special I am, I'll knee your solar plexus so hard you'll beg me for the breath to apologize."

A smile plays across my face. Even drowsy she can fucking knock me over. I swear she defined our very relationship in that single sentence.
 

Still, I can't help myself. "Baby, you are
so
special…"

Sofia chuckles and jabs her fist right under my ribs. "I'm getting a shower," she says as she eases her way off my chest.

"Me, too." I say with an amused grin as I follow her to the bathroom, trying to pretend her jab didn't hurt.
 

After the mind-fuck that was our week, Sunday is relatively calm. The investigation is merely background noise as we relax and mildly discuss possible responses from our targets and different strategies to deal with the contingencies. To keep things stirred up, we email friendly notes to many of our targets, subtly taunting them with our unwavering attention. We include the DA in our email campaign to help maintain his public position on our list, though we no longer need to harass him. He's as solidly dedicated to our cause as we are.

Monday, however, Sofia returns to work. Seeing her steel herself for the day, I'm pissed all over again. My woman, this stand-up cop, has to face two men intent on breaking her. She shouldn't have to put up with their shit, and I swear we can't take these fuckers down fast enough.
 

I spend the entire day trying not to worry about her. I troll for more information online, and work out hard, trying to release the tension of worrying over Sofia. She'd kick my ass right now if she knew how concerned I am. They attacked her once already, and I don't believe they've given up. I run various errands and stop and say hi to a corrupt councilman. A smiling hello from me is returned with a constipated look from him.
 

By early evening I have my grill ready to cook some steaks I picked up while I was out. Sofia comes in looking both angry and worried at the same time. Every muscle I have tenses when I see her expression. She walks straight for me and leans against my counter.

"Simms got fired, directly by the chief," she says with a hardened set of her jaw. I keep my calm and wait for whatever is coming next, because this should be good news…but tension is coming off of her in waves. "Miller got the promotion. He's my direct superior."

"Fuck," I say.
 

"You should have seen that smug bastard's face," she grits. "Directive number one from him was threatening my demotion, spoken so close to my face I got spat on."

My rage is barely contained. Going off as hard as I want to will only piss her off, and she's had enough shit to deal with today. I clench my jaw to keep my anger from escaping. She keeps my eyes in direct contact with hers. "Directive number two was announcing the biggest idiot in our precinct as my new partner. This guy barely passed the detective's exam, and only last week. No one ever expected him to be moved up. But now I'm stuck babysitting his ass while Miller flashes his shiny new badge at anyone who will look."

If I had control of her destiny, I would make one of two things happen: option one, I would promote her directly to Chief of Police for the entire city and let her run the whole damn show the way it should be run. The second option would be to haul her over my shoulder and drag her away from the city altogether. We'd ride off into the fucking sunset together.

Her destiny, however, has always been held tightly in her own grip. I respect her as strongly as I love her. "So what's your move?" I finally ask.

"Show up and do my fucking job," she says. I nod.
 

"Then I say we hit Miller next, and we hit him with a fucking battering ram," I say with forced calm.
 

"How about we just eat dinner," she says flatly as she walks to my bedroom. I don't follow. I hear her opening and closing drawers for a long time, then I hear the shower. I move the steaks to the grill. I'm cleaning the files from the table as she comes out in her ripped jeans and tee shirt. She's not wearing a bra and I can't help but appreciate her body again and the way her nipples peak under her top.
 

"I just moved in," she says plainly.
 

"Got it," I say, trying to contain my smile. "I'll get the steaks."

I grin to myself as I flip our dinner one last time over the charcoal before setting the steaks on a plate. I let them rest while I pour drinks. Before this evening, I wondered how long I could keep Sofia here with me. I hoped she would stay at least until we finished our task, and I hoped she would stay long after. Now that I know she won't leave, much of my tension is gone. The closer I can keep her, the safer she is, and the happier we both are, I'm sure.
 

"I'm supposed to work tonight," I remind after at dinner. "But I can stay if you need me to."

She regards me with annoyance.

"Right."

My shift is simple as usual, but my mind is thoroughly occupied with thoughts of gutting Miller with a dull knife. Slowly. He fucking spat in her face. Not one part of his vile body should ever contact hers, especially in such a disgusting display of undeserved power. I'm glad it's Jacks I'm slinging drinks with tonight rather than Ledger. I don't feel like deflecting his piercing ability to read everything on my mind.
 

By the time two a.m. rolls around, I'm no closer to figuring out how to rescue Sofia from this mess. Jacks offers to close for me and I nod in appreciation. She doesn't want to be rescued, but we'll both feel better once I have her beside me.
 

The moment I walk in my…our…house, however, I don't feel better at all. The expression on her face drops a fucking boulder in my gut.

"What happened?" I say, my anger seething through my words.
 

She shakes her head in an attempt to brush off the reason behind her expression. "Same shit, different day."

"Bullshit. What happened." I'm not tolerating her stoic need to handle everything herself. I thought we were past that. "Don't pull this shit with me."

"Threats, that's all. And if they think they can intimidate me…" she trails off in shaky anger. She tosses me her phone and I pull up a text from an unknown caller. I have no doubt she already ran the number. I have no doubt the digits belong to a burner.
 

Back the fuck off or the beat down you got last time will seem like a massage. And your sweet little ass looks delicious. Oh the fun we will have. Maybe we'll play even if you don't back off.
 

I throw her fucking phone against the wall, ready to give up this fight, pack, and get the fuck away. This investigation is not worth putting her in this kind of danger. She's taking it on every front.

"Don't even think about it, Mason," she grits. "They push me, I push harder."

"Fuck that!" I shout, walking to the board. Without any hesitation, I rip that instigating piece of shit off the wall and throw it as hard as I can in the opposite direction. "Fuck all of this! I want to see them fucking
burn
, but nothing is worth that." I point to the pile of plastic and microchips that was once her phone.
 

She gets in my face. "Fuck that?" she points at the board. "Then
fuck you
."

'Stand off' is the only way to describe the silent communication going on between us. We're calculating our next words and the consequences of each potential course of action, both with the investigation and within our relationship. I know her and she knows me, and there will be no reconciling our determined opinions of how to handle this threat. She dares to speak first.

"We knew this shit could happen when we started," she narrows her eyes with determination behind every word. "You know I got this, and you're killing me with your willingness to give up so easily."

"You think this is fucking easy?!" I nearly shout, pointing to her broken phone again. "Damn it, Sofia! I don't want them to fucking win! But this? I won't let them bring their shit to you. Not a fucking chance I'm letting
that
be a possibility."