1 Chapter 1

1

Mason finished packing his bag and threw it by the door, then fished his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He had two hours before he would leave, plenty of time to talk to his sister.

Just the thought of the call caused his chest to ache. It’d been this way every time he’d called—in the past eight months anyway.

On the fourth ring, a familiar click alerted him the call transferred to voice mail. His heartbeat slowed, and relief washed over him; seconds later, shame for feeling that way filled him.

His mind raced. What would he say to her? He had no news. No one had taken credit for the bombing, and even if they had, what kind of comfort would that have offered his sister? She was a widow. Her children were fatherless. The best he could offer was to capture the fuckers responsible and make them pay. But sadly, he was no closer to that. Before, he hadn’t a goddamn clue who they were. Now, he had a clue, he just required evidence to back it up.

The voice mail beep snapped him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Sis. Just checking in. I wanted to touch base before my flight. My ETA is twenty-two hundred. Call if you need me. No matter what time. I’ll be available for you.” He took a deep breath, his stomach sinking. “I love you, El.”

He ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. His gaze caught on the photos sitting on the shelf in front of him. One in particular. He padded around the couch and picked it up. Tears welled in his eyes. It had only been a year ago.

The picture contained the four smiling faces of his sister’s family—one of them now gone forever. His brother-in-law stood staring at his wife and kids, pure wonder in his eyes. Mason put the photo down and walked out of the room. His heart couldn’t take the pain right now. After all the shit he’d been dealing with the past twelve months, it was time he focused on something good for a change. Although it felt selfish, as his sister couldn’t put her loss away to mourn another day, he needed to so he could continue to function. He couldn’t allow every death to affect him as much as his brother-in-law’s had, or he’d no longer be efficient at his job. There had been others, just as personal, and he’d surged through. He needed to focus. He had to keep his eyes on the prize of taking the bad guys out. That was the way he’d earn his peace.

He glanced at his watch, knowing he still had time. “Can’t hang around here anymore.” He picked up his bag and headed out to his truck. He’d stop and pick up something to eat on the way to the airport.

* * * *

The departure board flashed, and the message changed. The word canceledblared next to Mason’s flight number. He wasn’t going anywhere. What was supposed to be a weekend full of sex, sex, and more sex had just been cut short because of treacherous winds. Mason fisted his hands. Why am I not surprised? Because every time I make plans with Jeremy something goes wrong. His stare stayed glued to the board, willing the words to change—begging the forces that be to settle the winds and let the bird fly. He really needed this—not only for his body, but also for his mental stability.

Why would I expect anything different for tonight? The only thing that’d gotten Mason through the past months was knowing he had time coming, and that he planned to use the time with Jeremy—with Jeremy’s body spread, ready, and waiting for Mason. “Dammit.”

After five minutes of giving the sign the evil eye, Mason turned away. “What do I do now?” He couldn’t go home. Not just yet. Being in the empty house, alone with his thoughts of the past twelve months, with both work and family and how the two entwined, would be enough to put him over the edge.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket with a sigh. No use putting it off. The call connected, and Mason was surprised he got voice mail. Not that he expected Jeremy to be waiting for his call. Although Mason thought the man might be sure to be available in case Mason ran into a problem—like his flight being canceled. He left a brief message, figuring Jeremy would call back, and they’d discuss their options then. With his phone back in his pocket, he spun around, checking the choices the airport held for his unexpected night out. He spotted his target. With his bag in hand, he headed toward it.