Exploited
Page 51
“There are things…” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at me again. “Never mind. I just get so angry thinking about it.” She shook her head. “Ignore me.” She chuckled, seeming self-conscious.
I squeezed her thigh. “I get what you’re saying. I really do. But we have to trust our government to sort it out. To make it right.”
She snorted. “You can’t be serious. Trust the government?” She rolled her eyes.
“Hey, I’m government, don’t forget. You can trust me,” I remarked lightly.
“Yeah. You are,” she said with a strange note in her voice.
The mood in the car became oddly tense. I didn’t know why.
“We’re almost there; close your eyes,” Hannah said suddenly, breaking the mood.
“Close my eyes?”
“Yes. Do it. Hurry.” Hannah giggled.
I did as I was asked. We drove for another five minutes before I felt Hannah turn left, then put the car in reverse, obviously backing into a parking spot. She turned off the engine and then I felt her lips on mine.
“You can open your eyes now,” she murmured against my mouth.
“I think I’d like to keep them closed for a few more minutes,” I whispered, cupping her face and deepening the kiss. I felt her tongue invade my mouth and I tangled mine with hers.
“We need to get inside,” Hannah said with a laugh, pulling away.
“If we have to,” I said, opening my eyes. I looked around and realized we were in the parking lot of a large old building.
“Do you know where we are?” she asked excitedly.
I opened my door and got out. People dressed in nice clothes made their way to the front of the grand building. A lit marquee above the front door said ALTRIA THEATER.
Hannah handed me a ticket. I looked up at her in surprise. “You bought tickets to Les Misérables?” She nodded.
I grabbed her arm and tugged her toward me. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her again. Softly this time. Tenderly. My heart felt full. How had I gotten so lucky?
“Thank you,” I said quietly, kissing her temple, smelling the sweet vanilla scent of her hair.
“Is it a good surprise?” She grinned, clearly excited.
“It’s a wonderful surprise.” I took her hand and we walked with the crowd toward the front of the building.
“I won’t even make fun if you sing along,” she teased, lacing our fingers together.
I lifted our joined hands and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll try to contain myself.”
Her eyes sparkled with what could only be joy. “You don’t have to. Not with me.”
I kissed her hand again. “No. Not with you.”
Chapter 16
Hannah
It was easy to lose track of the endgame with Mason in my life. He was all consuming. Everywhere.
“Are you going to eat that?” he asked, reaching across the table and snatching the rest of my blueberry muffin and popping it into his mouth.
The Virtuant exploit loomed, but there was Mason Kohler.
He’s part of the plan, I justified.
The plan. The plan.
The plan.
He’s so much more than the damn plan.
I felt slightly light-headed as he rubbed his foot against mine beneath the tiny corner table at the back of Nan’s Coffee Shop.
We continued to meet there every morning before work. It had become a routine. Familiar.
Just like his lopsided smile and the way he ordered a blueberry muffin, insisting that was all he wanted before snagging half of mine.
I had learned so much about Mason. And the more I knew, the more I liked him.
We had fallen into an easy comfort around each other. One born from late-night phone calls and surprise visits to the theater. It had blossomed on the ice of a skating rink and in quick kisses before going to work.
In the weeks since I had pushed my way into his life, I had come to know a man who was passionate about his work. A man who held on to the memories of his brother with a ferocity I appreciated. A man who demanded respect and who never thought twice about being kind.
Mason had slowly become the high point of my day.
Before I was forced to remind myself of his purpose in my life.
“I guess not anymore.” I pretended to pout, swatting his hand as he tried to take the last creamer from my saucer. “Get your own.”
Mason grinned and my insides constricted. He was too handsome for his own good.
For my own good.
“I can get you another one.” He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers. One at a time. I tried not to sigh like a love-struck heroine in a romance novel.
“No, that’s okay. I’m full anyway.” I drank the rest of my coffee.
“My parents are nagging me to come and see them soon.” Mason made a face, letting me know exactly what he thought of the idea.
“And you don’t want to see them?” I deduced. I had gotten the indication that he didn’t get along with his parents, but he had yet to go into the details.
There were some things you couldn’t learn by searching through someone’s life online. The nuances of interpersonal relationships didn’t translate into text. It sucked having to wait for him to tell me things I wanted to know.
“No. Not really. Though I feel like I should. They make me feel guilty enough about moving down here and leaving them.” He sounded bitter.
I put my hand over his. “Why don’t you want to see them?” I was eager to know everything about him.
Because I’m supposed to. He’s my mark, I reasoned.
Liar. Why was I even bothering to lie to myself anymore? I could be dishonest with everyone else but not with myself.
Mason furrowed his brows as if he had a headache. “After Dillon died, they sort of turned on me.”
“Turned on you?” I asked. He was holding my hand tightly, as if scared I’d run away.
I’m not going anywhere.
“That’s the only way to describe it. My mother has always been high maintenance, but she was a good mom. The den-mother-cheering-from-the-sidelines-at-your-basketball-game sort. But when Dillon died—”
“She changed,” I filled in.
Mason nodded. “Yeah. She changed. She became depressed. Angry. Everything was my fault. I wasn’t around enough. I should have been there for Dillon more than I was. That sort of thing. And my dad agreed with her. Mostly because he didn’t know how else to handle my mother but to go along with the cruel things she said. They were a unit against me.”
I squeezed her thigh. “I get what you’re saying. I really do. But we have to trust our government to sort it out. To make it right.”
She snorted. “You can’t be serious. Trust the government?” She rolled her eyes.
“Hey, I’m government, don’t forget. You can trust me,” I remarked lightly.
“Yeah. You are,” she said with a strange note in her voice.
The mood in the car became oddly tense. I didn’t know why.
“We’re almost there; close your eyes,” Hannah said suddenly, breaking the mood.
“Close my eyes?”
“Yes. Do it. Hurry.” Hannah giggled.
I did as I was asked. We drove for another five minutes before I felt Hannah turn left, then put the car in reverse, obviously backing into a parking spot. She turned off the engine and then I felt her lips on mine.
“You can open your eyes now,” she murmured against my mouth.
“I think I’d like to keep them closed for a few more minutes,” I whispered, cupping her face and deepening the kiss. I felt her tongue invade my mouth and I tangled mine with hers.
“We need to get inside,” Hannah said with a laugh, pulling away.
“If we have to,” I said, opening my eyes. I looked around and realized we were in the parking lot of a large old building.
“Do you know where we are?” she asked excitedly.
I opened my door and got out. People dressed in nice clothes made their way to the front of the grand building. A lit marquee above the front door said ALTRIA THEATER.
Hannah handed me a ticket. I looked up at her in surprise. “You bought tickets to Les Misérables?” She nodded.
I grabbed her arm and tugged her toward me. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her again. Softly this time. Tenderly. My heart felt full. How had I gotten so lucky?
“Thank you,” I said quietly, kissing her temple, smelling the sweet vanilla scent of her hair.
“Is it a good surprise?” She grinned, clearly excited.
“It’s a wonderful surprise.” I took her hand and we walked with the crowd toward the front of the building.
“I won’t even make fun if you sing along,” she teased, lacing our fingers together.
I lifted our joined hands and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll try to contain myself.”
Her eyes sparkled with what could only be joy. “You don’t have to. Not with me.”
I kissed her hand again. “No. Not with you.”
Chapter 16
Hannah
It was easy to lose track of the endgame with Mason in my life. He was all consuming. Everywhere.
“Are you going to eat that?” he asked, reaching across the table and snatching the rest of my blueberry muffin and popping it into his mouth.
The Virtuant exploit loomed, but there was Mason Kohler.
He’s part of the plan, I justified.
The plan. The plan.
The plan.
He’s so much more than the damn plan.
I felt slightly light-headed as he rubbed his foot against mine beneath the tiny corner table at the back of Nan’s Coffee Shop.
We continued to meet there every morning before work. It had become a routine. Familiar.
Just like his lopsided smile and the way he ordered a blueberry muffin, insisting that was all he wanted before snagging half of mine.
I had learned so much about Mason. And the more I knew, the more I liked him.
We had fallen into an easy comfort around each other. One born from late-night phone calls and surprise visits to the theater. It had blossomed on the ice of a skating rink and in quick kisses before going to work.
In the weeks since I had pushed my way into his life, I had come to know a man who was passionate about his work. A man who held on to the memories of his brother with a ferocity I appreciated. A man who demanded respect and who never thought twice about being kind.
Mason had slowly become the high point of my day.
Before I was forced to remind myself of his purpose in my life.
“I guess not anymore.” I pretended to pout, swatting his hand as he tried to take the last creamer from my saucer. “Get your own.”
Mason grinned and my insides constricted. He was too handsome for his own good.
For my own good.
“I can get you another one.” He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers. One at a time. I tried not to sigh like a love-struck heroine in a romance novel.
“No, that’s okay. I’m full anyway.” I drank the rest of my coffee.
“My parents are nagging me to come and see them soon.” Mason made a face, letting me know exactly what he thought of the idea.
“And you don’t want to see them?” I deduced. I had gotten the indication that he didn’t get along with his parents, but he had yet to go into the details.
There were some things you couldn’t learn by searching through someone’s life online. The nuances of interpersonal relationships didn’t translate into text. It sucked having to wait for him to tell me things I wanted to know.
“No. Not really. Though I feel like I should. They make me feel guilty enough about moving down here and leaving them.” He sounded bitter.
I put my hand over his. “Why don’t you want to see them?” I was eager to know everything about him.
Because I’m supposed to. He’s my mark, I reasoned.
Liar. Why was I even bothering to lie to myself anymore? I could be dishonest with everyone else but not with myself.
Mason furrowed his brows as if he had a headache. “After Dillon died, they sort of turned on me.”
“Turned on you?” I asked. He was holding my hand tightly, as if scared I’d run away.
I’m not going anywhere.
“That’s the only way to describe it. My mother has always been high maintenance, but she was a good mom. The den-mother-cheering-from-the-sidelines-at-your-basketball-game sort. But when Dillon died—”
“She changed,” I filled in.
Mason nodded. “Yeah. She changed. She became depressed. Angry. Everything was my fault. I wasn’t around enough. I should have been there for Dillon more than I was. That sort of thing. And my dad agreed with her. Mostly because he didn’t know how else to handle my mother but to go along with the cruel things she said. They were a unit against me.”
