I stared at the phone. Mace stared at the phone.
Then he flipped it open and started hitting buttons.
Shitsofuckit!
“Mace, give me the phone.” I reached out to snatch it from him but he yanked it away and his eyes came back to me, stil narrow, brows drawn.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I lied.
He watched me a beat then repeated, “Who the f**k is Bogey One?”
“Erm…”
“Start talkin’, Stel a,” he demanded and his voice had gone scary. “Is it Turner?”
I blinked at him, taken aback that he thought I’d hide a cal from Eric.
Then I cried, “No! Of course not.”
“Then you do know who it is.”
Damn it!
Why was I such an idiot?
“Mace –”
“Is it Chavez?” Mace went on.
“No! Mace, I can’t tel you. You have to trust me. Just give me the phone.” I held out my hand to him, palm up, hoping that would work.
It didn’t.
“Last night you sat there singing to me ‘nothing to hide, believe what I say’ and not ten hours later you’re standin’ in front of me lyin’.”
I closed my eyes then opened them again. “Please Mace, you just have to trust me.”
“Trust you with what?” he asked, voice impatient.
“Mace –”
“Trust you with what?” Now his voice was short and pissed off.
“Your heart!” I shouted, his body went tight then he blinked. I ignored al that and went on, “You have to trust me with your heart, damn it. A couple of days ago, you asked me if I wanted into your heart. Wel , I’m guessing by now you know that I do. So I’m trying to work my way in there but you have to trust me. Now give me the effing phone!” He just stood there, frozen, staring at me. This was weird and highly uncharacteristic of Mace but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I took my opportunity, reached in and snatched the phone out of his hand.
I walked (okay, more like stomped) away while flipping it open and finding my way to voicemail. By the time I made it to the kitchen and turned to face him, Mace was tugging on his jeans and Lana’s voice was tel ing me she was on a plane and just about to take off. Red-eye to LA. She’d have to turn off her phone soon but she wanted me to know she’d cal ed Chloe. She finished, “See you soon, sweetie.” Even though I wanted to keep a message that had Lana’s soft, musical voice cal ing me sweetie, I deleted it immediately.
Mace had his jeans buttoned and was pul ing on the henley he discarded last night by the time I was done.
I opened my mouth to speak but he got there before me, his voice coming at me like a whiplash. “They cut off her hand.”
My breath packed up and, on a direct trajectory, shot straight toward the sun, disintegrating in the heat.
I tried to suck in air but it wasn’t coming mainly because the guard was down, the demons were out, nothing to hide them. Even across the room, I could see they were cavorting malevolently in Mace’s eyes and having the times of their lives. Looking at that kind of pain in the eyes of the man I loved, I couldn’t breathe.
“Caitlin was kidnapped. My father didn’t involve the cops. Instead he hired some f**kin’ guys…” He paused then continued, “You wouldn’t believe these guys. Knowin’