The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

I shook my head, my skin going cold as I tried not to think about worst-case scenarios, even as fifty of them flooded my head.

“You did what?” I said slowly, just to make sure I hadn’t heard her wrong. “Because you said before we started that—”

Monica’s laugh cut me off. “I said?” she repeated in amusement, pressing a hand to her chest like some kind of innocent angel. “Baby, I said whatever I needed to say to get what I want

ed. I mean, isn’t that what you do?”

To clients, maybe. I said what they wanted to hear to get my paycheck. That never hurt anyone, though; it usually left them smiling and feeling better about themselves.

But this… This could hurt Reese. It directly involved risking her safety. Because Patricia was a fucking viper, and if she thought some girl had become special to me, I knew without a doubt she’d find some way to spread her poison all over Reese.

Acid burned and gurgled in my stomach just thinking about the bright and bubbly Reese being hurt.

“Honestly, Mason,” Monica went on, “Patricia’s my best friend. I tell her everything.” A ding from her computer made her perk to attention. “Oh! There.” She reached for her mouse to wake the screen. “That’s her reply now. I was sending her a copy of Miss Randall’s school records when you appeared in my doorway.”

“Wow, because that’s fucking legal,” I snarled.

She snickered, “Said the male prostitute.”

Shit, I couldn’t turn her in for her breach of ethics or she’d turn me in for my own illegal activities.

I glanced away. God, I was such a fool. A stupid naïve fool that hadn’t learned a single thing since Patricia had walked into my backyard two years ago and tricked me into following her home.

“You lied to me,” I charged quietly.

“Aww,” Monica said, reaching out to cup my chin. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

When I jerked out of her grip to glare at her, she chuckled. “Well, it’s time to grow up, sweetheart, and face the facts. You’re a worthless little whore who wasn’t giving me what I wanted. Why did you even think I owed you any kind of honesty or decency?”

The rush of hate and anger that filled my veins momentarily blurred my vision. This instinctive need to grab her neck and start strangling her until her face turned blue and she realized how despicable and amoral she was flashed so strongly inside me I had to ball my hands into fists to physically restrain myself from lifting my arms.

But just under the rage, I felt as low and worthless as she’d just told me I was. Tapping my foot, I managed to relieve enough shame and hopelessness and rage to respond.

“Thank goodness you don’t teach ethics,” I managed to say as calmly as possible, somehow keeping my chin up and back straight. She’d never see how much she slayed me.

With a laugh, she nodded. “God, yes, you’re telling me. Literature is much more my speed. Now about next Thursday. My husband’s out of town again, and I want—”

When she reached for my arm, I snapped it out of her reach, saying, “No. Never again.”

She paused, not quite able to mask the initial rejection she felt before she laughed as if amused. “Oh, yes. Again,” she countered, growing deadly serious. “Whenever I want it, in fact. I’d say your little Reese’s grade depends on it.”

“Fuck you,” I growled, stepping closer. “I said never again, and I meant it. I will turn myself over to the authorities, the dean of the English department, and whoever else I have to, and expose us both before I let you mess with her grade. Do I make myself clear?”

Worry lined her eyes even as she tossed me a gloating smirk. “Cute bluff, darling. But I’m not buying it.”

I reached for her so suddenly she gasped and reared back. But all I grabbed was a piece of her hair. “Go ahead,” I challenged softly. “Call my bluff. You’re the one who has so far to fall. I’m just the worthless whore who doesn’t deserve anything, remember?” Shrugging, I stepped back. “What do I have to lose?”

She definitely wasn’t Patricia. Patricia would’ve swung back, hit me where it hurt most, threatened Sarah and my mom, probably even Reese again. But Monica wasn’t nearly as ballsy.

Visibly shaken, she took a step back and pointed toward the door, before growling, “Get out.”

I sneered out a dark smile. “Gladly.”

With my head held high, I walked from her office, only to curse under my breath once I was halfway down the hall. I think she bought my bluff, but now I had a whole new—worse—horror to face.

Patricia Garrison.

Learning a bit of my lesson with Monica, I knew I couldn’t just outright confront Patricia to settle this. She’d immediately assume Reese was important to me, and she’d sniff around the poor girl more ardently than ever.