***
We pull up to a small, neglected-looking cabin with a detached garage set back. This place isn’t at all charming. If this is where Ivy’s been with her shapeshifter, I sure got lucky.
“This is his place?” I ask, eyeballing my sister’s car.
“Yeah,” Mason says, putting his truck in park. “Pretty sure they’re gone.”
“We haven’t even knocked yet.”
“I can tell.” He taps the side of his nose.
“How convenient,” I mutter, opening the door while pulling off my seatbelt, then striding toward the door, calling over my shoulder, “Excuse me while I check for myself.”
“You’re wasting your time,” he calls out. “They’re not here.”
I knock on the front door of the cabin.
“Amelia,” he calls.
“Is this even the right place?” I ask and then accuse, “Or is this a game? They’re somewhere else and my sister’s car here is a prop to throw me off?”
This place looks like a hunting and fishing camp. Reminds me a little of a place Dad used to go to with my brother most summers. I only went once because it was definitely roughing it. Me, Mom, and Ivy found girlie stuff to do when they did their rough boy weekends.
I feel him at my back as I try to peer in through the window.
“A little insulted you think I’m tryin’ to deceive you here, wildberry.”
“How would I know if you’re not?” I snap.
He grabs my hand and tugs. “This is the place. They’re just not here. Let’s go home. I’ll find out when we can-”
“No!” I pull away. “I’ll wait.”
“This is pointless. Let’s go.”
I glare at him.
He stares, unaffected.
And it’s ticking me off.
I pull my phone from my pocket. “That’s it. I’m tired of the game-playing. I’m calling the fucking cops. This is my sister we’re talking about and if you can’t produce her, then she’s missing and possibly hurt or in danger, and…” I slide my finger over my screen to make a call. “I’m not playing your games.” I touch nine, then one, and then Mason snatches my phone from my hand.
“Hey!” I protest, reaching for it.
He pockets it and pulls me toward the truck.
“Give me my phone, Doggo,” I grind out.
His shoulder goes into my belly and I’m up over it again.
”You know… you’re really starting to piss me off,” I growl.
“Settle down.”
“Put me down Mason! Put me down and gimme my goddamn phone!”
“You’re bein’ reckless.”
He deposits me into the seat of his truck and slams the door. I glare at him while he comes around and gets inside.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says, reaching across to pull my seatbelt on, then starting the truck up.
I fold my arms over my chest and grind my teeth. I am spitting mad. I don’t have a good feeling about this. Something’s not right with my sister.
***
It’s evening. And I’m pissed. I’m pissed off and I’m not hiding it. But part of why that is, beyond not getting to see my sister, is the difficulty I’m having with giving Mason the cold shoulder.
Despite his offers of food, of drinks, I’m sitting on the couch where I’ve sat for hours, looking out the window. And his absolute sex appeal has not escaped me. On the contrary, it’s as if he’s taunting me with it. The way he moves. The sound of his voice. His scent – his motherfucking scent – ack. It’s a potent aphrodisiac all on its own and I’ve been having difficulty with self-control. Which pisses me off because I’m angry and horny and that’s a really strange combination. All I should be worried about right now is Ivy. The witchcraft is clearly at work here making me even notice his sex appeal. Stupidly infuriating.
He hasn’t laid a finger on me since we got back, and that’s been annoying, too. I’m sure he’s being extra sexy so that I’ll make a move. Miraculously, I’ve stood my ground, but not without suffering.
I watched the sun set over the lake earlier with awe. And tried to hide how amazing it was. Shades of blood orange, yellow, and lilac reflected off the water and though I got goosebumps, I didn’t utter a word. And though I didn’t utter a word, I felt his eyes on me, felt him watching me watching the sky.
Today has felt excruciatingly cruel.
Even though the sex in the woods this morning was tied for first place for the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life (tied with the first time with Mason), I want more. I just want him to initiate it. So that I don’t have to admit how horny I am.
I probably don’t need to get laid for a very long time. In fact, the kind of sex I’ve been having compared to the sex I’d had in the past, I could die happy right now in the sexual fulfillment department.
He’s been talking on the phone or texting but hasn’t given me updates or explanations. And he also hasn’t given me my phone back. And it’s making me angrier. It’s obvious he’s been having cryptic conversations, which tells me that there’s definitely something off here.