His grip loosens, and he stumbles back a step.
I lift my knee hard and hit him in the groin, knocking him over. I run around to the driver’s side of my car and get in, locking all the doors. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely get the key in the ignition.
There’s movement in the side window, and I look to see him getting up, his hand bloody from clutching his chin as he pulls himself up, and my engine roars to life. I back out of the spot as I hear the snapping of my sideview mirror.
Looking in my rearview mirror, I see him reaching in his jacket, probably going for a gun.
I floor it, speeding up the lane to the exit and keep going, taking the turns fast, ignoring the squeal of my tires and the honks of other drivers.
The exit gate is still up from the last car that went through, and I drive right through it before the arm comes back down.
Breathe, just breathe. You got away.
I keep driving. I’m shaking from head to toe and keep checking the rearview mirrors, knowing he must have a car if he followed me to the interview. Was he in the parking lot at my apartment? He said he’d been keeping track of me for years, so he knows where I live, and I can’t go back.
You made it so easy to keep track of you. I cringe at the thought. I moved from Texas to California. I have no idea how he found me, but the fact is he did, and he wants revenge.
I have to be smart this time. No matter what, I can’t lead this psycho back to Kassie, Hollywood, and my sweet niece Kate. I can’t.
I let the anger I feel fuel me as I get on the freeway. I keep driving, changing freeways at random and watching to make sure I’m not followed.
Knox
Downtime is not my thing. Aiden and Colt left early for a personal assignment, and Dylan is helping them with strategy, but the rest of us are still here just doing our paperwork. We’re supposed to be taking some mental health days. Everyone else seems happy to have time off, but not me. I’m annoyed, and I can’t have another night of sitting in my empty house thinking about everything I don’t have. I’ve never been this way before. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but ever since I met the Jensens it’s like the thought of settling down and finding someone is at the forefront of everything for me. And I don’t know why. I can’t settle down. I’m committed to my job. I spent years in the military until one day Commander Hunter Nash pulled me aside for a special assignment. Little did I know it was a test, and I passed with flying colors. Since that mission, I joined the team in Whiskey Run. We are a group of mercenaries. No one talks about what we do, but we help those in need.
I walk through the barely lit bad side of downtown Jasper and jog down the steps. I’m in a back alley that most people wouldn’t be caught dead walking in at this time of night. But I don’t care. I’m more lethal than anyone I’ll meet on the street.
I knock twice, and the door opens a crack. JMac, the bouncer, recognizes me immediately. “What’s up, Knox?”
“I talked to Toby. He put me on the lineup for tonight.”
He opens the door, shaking his head. “Yeah, you got Mason, better known as ‘The Machine.’”
I shrug. “Don’t know him.”
He laughs and hits me on the back. “Yeah, uh, good luck with that.”
I walk away and push my way through the crowd to get to the back room where the fighters get ready. People are cheering and yelling at the fight going on now, and just being surrounded by it all sends my adrenaline through the roof. I need this. I need to fight and punch something. Maybe that can take the edge off.
“You made it,” Toby says as I walk into the back room.
There are men in different corners of the room in various states of dress. Some of them go all out and have headbands and wristbands with matching shorts. I pull off my shirt and hang it on the hook before sitting on the chair and holding my hands out. The doc who I’m pretty sure isn’t a doctor comes and sits down across from me. He’s the one that tapes everyone up and makes sure everything is on the up and up. I guess it had to be done since one guy had a razor blade in his taped-up hands at a fight last year.
“So tell me about Mason, The Machine. How’d he get a name like that?”