A soft rapping sounded at the bedroom window and Blake whirled around to see Mason peering at her through the glass, only his face visible. His eyes glittered with fierce intensity, his hair a wet mop atop his head as the rain streamed down his face, dripped onto his wide shoulders.
He was the best thing she’d ever seen in her life.
Running to the window, she fumbled with the old locks until finally she was able to flip the lever. She tugged at the stuck window, panicked adrenaline coursing through her and finally, it rose. With a grunt, Mason tore out the raggedy screen and tossed the black netting over his shoulder. With her help, he leapt over the ledge and into the house, overwhelming the tiny room with his dripping wet presence.
He pulled her into his arms and held her close, almost crushing her with his strength and the rapid beating of his heart against her ear soothed her. Abruptly, he pushed her away and held her at arm’s length, glaring at her. His expression read both relief and anger.
“What the hell is going on?” His voice was low and measured, though she heard the ferocity just beneath the surface. “Who’s the jackass prowling around outside?”
Blake shook her head and took his hand, clutching it tight. “He’s with Suzanne. I’ll give you the details later, but we need to get out of here before he comes back inside. He’s crazy.”
“Let’s go.” He took over, his instincts kicking into overdrive and he escorted her to the door, where he looked first to the left, then the right before leading her out into the hallway.
Blake squeezed his hand and he turned. “He’s armed,” she whispered. “He has a gun.”
Mason reached inside his coat and pulled out his own weapon. “So do I.”
A flood of relief washed over her, followed quickly by a sharp slap of fear. What if this turned into a major gunfight? Suzanne didn’t have a chance if Rich stumbled across her. They were all putting themselves at a huge risk.
“Suzanne is out there.” Blake nodded toward the living area. “I don’t know if she left the house or not.”
“Is she working with him?” Mason’s brows furrowed. “Did they draw you out here on purpose?”
“She’s not with him. Not really.” Blake shook her head. She wanted to believe Suzanne’s story but she still wasn’t sure. The misery etched all over face had been hard to ignore, though. “I think she’s as much a victim in this as I am.”
His face was stark, grim determination. “We need to be quiet while we sneak out of here. And I need you to follow my lead, no questions asked. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.” She trusted him implicitly to lead her out of this mess.
“Then let’s go.” He held a single finger to his lips to silence her and then headed toward the living area. She followed behind him, her heart beating so hard, she was afraid anyone could hear it.
They slunk against the walls and Mason turned to the left toward the kitchen. She kept up with his steady pace, her gaze searching for any sign of life. For Suzanne, for Rich, maybe even for the police.
Had Mason called the authorities? She hoped so. The local sheriff deputies didn’t see that much action on Whitney Island, but having them arrive would be better than no help at all.
They went into the small kitchen. The counters were littered with empty beer bottles and torn food wrappers. The sink was full of dirty dishes and the entire room had a dirty, dank smell permeating it.
Blake wrinkled her nose. How could Suzanne live in such filth? Was it all Rich’s creation?
The front door banged open and Mason froze, his arm automatically going out to stop her. Blake stood still, bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from releasing a shaky breath and they waited, listening.
“Amber!” Rich’s urgent footsteps sounded throughout the house and Blake assumed he headed toward the bedroom. The soulful wail that sounded was downright pitiful. “Where are you? You won’t get away from me again!”
“We’ve got to go. Now.” Mason’s voice was firm, urgent, and it scared her. She realized why he’d taken her to the kitchen.
He threw open the backdoor that led out to the small backyard and they stumbled down the rickety wooden steps, onto the marshy grass.
The rain pelted down on them in sheets, loudly plopping on their bodies and Blake tugged the hood back onto her head.
“Follow me!” Mason yelled over the pounding rain. “If you hear me say ‘go’ then I want you to run as fast as you can, whatever direction you choose. Whatever you do, don’t follow me. If I say that, it’s because I spotted the guy and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Mason!” She couldn’t imagine running away from him. It didn’t make any sense.
“Do as I say.” He grabbed her by the upper arms and kissed her, his lips firm and wet from the rain. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Okay.” She nodded, wished she could tell him how she felt. Was this it? If something happened to Mason, she’d be full of regret for the rest of her life. “I love you,” she whispered.
It was as if he didn’t hear her. He probably didn’t. “Let’s go.”