Page 102 of Hidden Resolution

“Shonda, come out here. We need to talk.”

Erica laid a hand on his arm.

“She’s gone, Mason. She left yesterday.”

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

Disbelieving, he brushed her off and searched each of the rooms. Part of him wanted to believe the stacks of taped boxes were an optical illusion. Surely she hadn’t turned tail and run? Not Shonda. She was a fighter through and through. An optimistic one to boot. She would’ve stayed until he came to his senses.

“She took a job offer out of state,” Erica said, shadowing him.

“What are you talking about? Where?”

Her silence made him sweat.

“Where is she, Erica?”

“She doesn’t want you to know,” she hedged.

“Where. Is. She?”

“I’m sorry.” And she honestly seemed to be, but he wasn’t accepting of it.

“Are you honestly going to stand there and not tell me?” he asked in disbelief. “You owe me.”

Her raised brows forced him to question the wisdom of his claim. But if he had to use the getting-shot-on-her-behalf card, he would.

After an internal debate, she came to a decision. “Fine. She left for Colorado.”

“Where in Colorado?”

His patience was thin, and if she didn’t tell him, he feared he would wring her neck.

“Yeah, well, it’s all you’re getting. If you want her bad enough, you’ll make an effort to find her.”

“This isn’t one of your stupid-ass romance novels,” he ground out. “Give me the damn address.”

“You aren’t endearing yourself to me. In fact, you’re pissing me off,” she said, jabbing him with her nail.

He rubbed his chest. “Why does everyone keep poking me?”

“You put her through hell,” Erica charged, ignoring his complaint. “But did I say anything? No! Because I know what you’ve been through. I understand what it feels like to be betrayed. But I’ll be damned if I sit here and have you yell at me because of your own stupidity. Go to hell.”

“I swear to God…”

“What? What will you do?” she taunted. “Nothing, that’s what. Zack would kill you deadifI don’t first.”

And suddenly, he couldn’t take the uncertainty and pain anymore. Yeah, he’d screwed up. More than once. He needed to make things right.

Exhaling a ragged breath, he tried again. “Please.”

Her guard slipped.

Thank God for romantic saps.

“I promised her I wouldn’t tell you, and I can’t break my word.”

He dropped onto a plastic-wrapped chair. Defeated, he stared out the slider windows over the dead winter landscape. He’d fucked up. Big time. And there was no coming back. They could’ve had a good thing if he had gotten out of his own way.