Page 33 of Unmasking Mayhem (Behind the Mask Duet #2)
I lunge for her, yanking her back into my embrace, desperate to feel her fury and heartbreak instead of facing the unbearable weight of guilt alone.
She struggles against me, landing punches against my arms and chest as I wrap her tight, tears streaking down her cheeks, merging with the evening dew.
“We weren’t watching when that happened. We were on a job with Masked Mayhem, I promise. We didn’t discover what had happened until we saw the footage the next day,” I assure her, though I can feel the words hanging heavy in the air.
I hold her close, feeling her heart racing, matching the rhythm of my own as we remain intertwined. Hawk watches quietly from the sidelines, guilt etched into his features.
“Raze, you don’t understand.” Her voice trembles with the weight of her despair.
“You can’t just stand by and watch someone you love get hurt, especially when you have the power to act.
I trusted you... I trusted both of you.” She pulls away, breaking the connection we shared moments before, anger and pain radiating off her.
“Hawk, help me out,” I plead, turning to him, but he merely shakes his head, equally lost and guilt-ridden.
We both failed her, leaving her to bear her burdens alone. Whitney wipes her tears angrily, as if erasing the evidence of her vulnerability.
“I thought you two were my refuge, but you’ve turned out to be just as unreliable as everyone else.” The accusation cuts deep, rendering me speechless as I step back, feeling the sting of her words.
“Whit, please listen,” Hawk tries, stepping forward cautiously. “We believed we were protecting you. We didn’t want to abandon you. We felt it was safer for you while we dealt with our own issues. We thought we were doing the right thing.”
She scoffs bitterly, the sound echoing in the cool night air. “The right thing? This feels more like betrayal.”
The word reverberates in my mind, echoing the sentiment I feel for myself looking back. I take a deep breath, finally allowing the truth to emerge.
“I should have reached out. We both should have,” I admit finally, my voice barely a whisper. “What King did to you was inexcusable. I wish I could change the past."
Whitney’s hardened gaze softens slightly. Underneath the anger, I see remnants of the bond we once shared—years of laughter, late-night secrets, and whispered promises. But reminiscing isn't helpful now; we need to confront the present and fix what's been fractured.
“Whatever King thinks he knows is wrong, and I’ll ensure he realizes that,” I declare, the fire igniting within me, eclipsing guilt and despair.
“You deserve more than this. You deserve freedom from the monsters that haunt you. If King thinks he can toy with your life, he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. ”
Whitney eyes me skeptically, but a spark of hope flickers in her gaze as she contemplates my words. “You can’t just go after him, Raze. He’s more powerful than you realize. If he’s willing to blackmail me, why would you provoke him?”
“Because I’d rather die than watch you suffer,” I respond passionately, the raw truth spilling from my lips.
“That’s noble,” Whitney replies, her bitterness ebbing. “But I won’t let you risk your lives for me.”
“Hawk and I have fought too hard and too long to let this go. This is bigger than just you; it’s about us—our lives, our decisions. We face this together, and we won’t let King walk away triumphant.”
Hawk steps forward, his voice laced with determination. “Whit, we’re a team. Always have been, always will be. We have to stick together; this is one battle we can’t shy away from.”
Whitney scans our faces, indecision lingering in her emerald gaze. Then, as the stars twinkle above, I witness a defiant light begin to pierce her uncertainty.
“Alright,” she confirms, her tone resolute. “But we’re doing this my way.”
“What do you mean?” Hawk asks, a hint of confusion in his voice.
“I need to understand what we’re facing. I’ll confront King’s threats, and if he tries anything, I’ll be prepared. But I won't be reduced to a pawn in someone else’s game again.”
“That’s fair,” I agree, fully willing to follow her lead. “Whatever you need, just tell us. But don’t forget—Hawk and I have your back, always.”
Whitney nods, a trace of warmth flickering in her expression.
The three of us huddle together, fierce against the encroaching darkness.
This time, we stand as one, ready to take back the safe spaces we thought we’d lost. We might be broken, but for Whitney, Hawk, and me, the fight is still going.
And no matter what it takes, we will take control of our lives back from the ashes of betrayal.
After talking for a few more hours, mainly reminiscing on our younger days, we start to feel little droplets of rain falling from the sky.
The clouds grow thicker and darker, quickly covering the once bright stars and shining down nothing but darkness on us.
Glancing over at Whitney, she looks at peace, like the rain is some sort of baptism for her.
I get lost in her features, and Hawk eventually has to nudge my elbow to grab my attention.
"What?" I whisper, still locked on her face as she closes her eyes and turns her face up to the sky, welcoming the rain.
"Eight 'o'clock," he says even lower, looking at me with worry in his eyes.
I quickly snap my attention to him, sneaking a rapid glance in the direction he's talking about, noticing a figure donning all black with a mask over his face that glows a neon blue. I notice the silhouette of a rifle stand beside him, the gun pointing right at us with a red dot that pierces Whitney’s bedroom window.
The mental torture is a mindfuck, and to think, Whitney has no idea she's being watched.
Hawk and I share a nod as we rise from the roof and help Whit to her feet.
Hawk quickly gathers everything while I carefully lead the way down the fire escape to her balcony, slipping into safety through the sliding glass door.
I close the curtains, feeling a fire stir in my gut, but I keep it under control, not wanting to get her all worked up.
If he was going to shoot us, he would've done it by now, so it makes me think it's just Dustin trying to fuck with her head.
As long as Hawk and I are with her, he won't fucking be able to.
"Uh, what's going on?" Whitney asks, pulling off her drenched shirt and shorts, standing in front of us in a black lingerie set, her tattoos and bruises on full display.
"Nothing, why?" I stammer rather quickly, grabbing her a blanket off the back of the couch.
"I don't know," she says skeptically. "You're both just oddly quiet and... smothering."
"Get used to us always being around you, Little Mischief, because now that the truth is out in the open, we're never leaving your fucking side," Hawk spits, his voice more deep and commanding than usual.
He walks closer to her, wrapping his arm around her bare waist and yanking her against his chest. He cups her chin with one hand and brings his mouth mere inches from hers, his demeanor giving off more of a threat.
Slowly I step towards them, stopping when the tips of my shoes touch the side of Whitney's feet, sighing as I watch the heated moment between them.
Hawk grabs her throat and kisses her, violently backing her up and slamming her against the wall.
I watch, forgetting about the fact that we're being watched, getting harder and more worked up by the second.
I want her. I fucking want her right now.
As their lips are locked in a vicious duel, I slowly walk up beside her again and put my lips to her collarbone, breathing heavily as I ghost them across it, watching her shiver while still locked in the kiss.
I teasingly push down her bra straps, letting them fall down her shoulders, and unclasp the back with two fingers before yanking it off of her.
Whitney gasps, her breath catching in her throat as Hawk's lips part from hers.
He looks at me, an unspoken understanding exchanging between us as the tension thickens in the air.
The weight of everything we'd just learned, combined with the frantic energy pulsing through our bodies, creates an intoxicating rush that’s fucking impossible to ignore.
Her skin glistens under the dim light, shimmering like a canvas waiting to be painted on.
I can feel the rhythm of her heart pulsing through my fingertips as they trail down her bare arms, igniting sparks wherever I touch.
"We have to be quiet," I whisper, my voice low and husky, the urgency sending shivers down my spine.
Hawk nods, his grip still firm on her throat as he leans down to capture her lips once more, kissing her deeply but carefully, as if she’s made of glass.
I move my hands down, cupping her ass, lifting her slightly as I guide her body closer to Hawk’s, molding her between us like a flame licking at the edges of the dark.
The kiss deepens further, and the air around us starts to feel electrified.
I can feel the heat radiating off her body, her short breaths mingling with ours, creating a symphony of urgency and need.
My fingers explore the contours of her curves, tracing the bruises that mar her smooth skin, yet my touch is gentle, reverent.
“Dustin won’t hurt you anymore,” I promise, my lips brushing against her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent as the rain continues to patter against the window. “Not while we’re here.”
Whispered hopes intertwine with passionate touches, turning the air thick with both danger and desire. The reality of our situation snaps back into focus when I become aware of the still-present risk of being exposed.
"Whitney," I murmur, breaking away from her neck to meet her gaze. "We need to be careful. If Dustin's close enough to see you, he won't hesitate to try something."