Or maybe she is.
Hell, I don’t know anything anymore. If Kady is still the same person I’ve always known, then none of her behavior since I got out makes any sense. Why did she disappear? And what happened to her in the time I’ve been gone to make her so damn wary of me?
Turning away from them as they start eating, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Streak’s number.
“Streak’s stalking hotline. How can I help you today?”
I bite back a laugh as I shake my head. “Did you find anything about a boyfriend for Kady?”
“Uh… No?”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
He sighs. “Look, dude, you know everything I know. I’m not keeping anything from you so no, I didn’t find out anything about a boyfriend, which makes sense considering I couldn’t even find her.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I glance back up at the house and the new yellow Camaro in the driveway catches my attention. “Hold on, run this plate for me,” I say before rattling off the plate number. Typing greets me and a moment later, he hums.
“That car belongs to one Mason Jonathon Barrow.”
I grit my teeth.
Sounds like a tool.
“What can you tell me about him?”
“Well, he’s thirty years old. His parents live across the river in Port Allen and he has a sister that lives three blocks from him in the city. Looks like he is a fairly successful real estate agent and he seems like an all around good guy.”
“Don’t fucking tell me that. He’s got my girl.”
“Jesus Christ, dude. He doesn’t have your girl. She’s not a damn hostage.”
I glance up at the cabin. “How the hell do you know?”
“Well, since you’re sitting outside the cabin right now, does she look like a hostage?”
“How the fuck do you know where I am?” I snap and he laughs.
“I tracked your phone. What the hell do you think I do all day?”
I turn away from the cabin and sigh. “Don’t track my phone, asshole. And no, she doesn’t look like a hostage but none of this makes any damn sense.”
“Has she told you anything about the time you were away?”
“No,” I growl, turning back to the house just as Mason reaches across the table and brushes his fingers over her hand. I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. “All she said is that she was done with me when I got locked up.”
“Shit, that’s rough. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “It’s not true!”
“Why would she lie?”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” I ask, shaking my head. “Listen, I gotta go. Thanks for all your help.”
I hang up before he can say anything else and toss the phone across the seat before turning back to the cabin. Watching the two of them together is agony. With each beat of my heart, pain radiates through my body but I won’t give in. She can lie all she wants but I’m not deterred. Kady Sinclair has been my whole world since the moment we met sixteen years ago and I won’t stop until she remembers that, too.
* * * *
This is a terrible fucking idea.
Deep down, I know that but that doesn’t mean that I’m willing to drive away from the fancy restaurant I watched Kady and Mason disappear into fifteen minutes ago. At least not anymore. When I first started following them from the cabin, I wondered what the hell I was doing and by the time we got here, I was ready to say “fuck it” and head back to the clubhouse. But when I watched her step out of his car in a short black dress that was so tight I was picturing her naked, on top of me, and Mason wrapped his arm around her waist, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere.
After I left the cabin last night, I went back to the clubhouse and forced Streak to dig into Mason Barrow’s life for hours and by all accounts, he’s a fucking Boy Scout. As much as I wanted to find some dirt on him and some proof that he was all wrong for Kady, I couldn’t. I hate to admit it but he’s a decent guy and as far as I can tell, he adores my girl which is exactly my problem. She is my girl. Always has been and always will be. Mason Barrow could be the second coming of Jesus Christ himself but his biggest flaw is that he’s not me. I still have no idea what happened to make Kady disappear all those years ago and I don’t know anything about her life during the seven years we spent apart but I am sure of one thing, Kady and I are meant to be. Which means I’m not going to stop until she’s back where she belongs - in my arms.
Shaking off the last of my nerves, I climb out of the truck and cross the street to the restaurant, ready to take on the whole damn world. As soon as I walk into the waiting area, the woman standing behind the maitre d’ stand arches a brow and watches me approach her with a wary gaze.
“Can I help you, sir?”
I flash her a smile. “Yes, I’m meeting some friends here for dinner.”
Her mouth drops open as her gaze falls to my arms, where all my tattoos are on display and I scan the restaurant for my target. When I finally spot Kady in the back corner, I point in her direction.
“Never mind. I found them.”
Without waiting for a response, I walk around the stand and weave through the other diners, ignoring the stares and whispers. My gaze is focused on my girl. She spots me when I’m about ten feet from her table and her words trail off as her mouth drops open and panic fills her eyes. Her gaze flicks to Mason before coming back to me as I grab a chair from the table next to them and position it next to her.
“Hey, y’all. How’s dinner?”
Mason jerks back, a bewildered expression on his face. “I’m sorry. Can we help you?”
“What are you doing here?” Kady hisses, her teeth clenched and fire igniting in her gaze as she glares at me. My cock hardens and I smile.
“Oh, Kady, baby, you already know.”
“You son of a bitch,” she whispers under her breath as Mason clears his throat, his gaze flying between the two of us.
“Kady, do you know this guy?”
She nods, her fist clenching on the table. “This is the ex I told you about.”
Oh, so she told him about me, did she?
Anger radiates off her in waves, hitting me like an atom bomb and I’ve never been so goddamn turned on in all my life. She’s magnificent.
Turning to Mason, my smile is a little more forced. “I’m Noah, Kady’s fiancé.”
“Ex-fiancé,” Kady snaps and when I turn back to her, I swear I can see her blood boiling. The zipper of my jeans digs into my flesh and I chuckle as I reach under the table to discreetly adjust myself as she continues to glare at me. Mason and all the other diners disappear while we continue our silent face-off and my heart thunders in my chest, picturing how hot it would be if I could get her underneath me right now. Some of my most vivid memories of the two of us happened when I got her in bed after one of our knockdown, drag out fights and she was never this angry at me. I can only imagine that we would scorch the earth right now.
Someone clears their throat and I jerk my gaze away from her.
“And why are you interrupting our dinner?” Mason asks, irritation slipping through his polite southern boy mask. Ignoring Kady’s eye daggers, I turn to face him and lean back in my chair as I grab her glass of wine and take a sip.