The Truth About Unspeakable Things, Emily Myers [bookstand for reading TXT] 📗

didn’t take the hint,” he says, handing me my drink.

“What?” I lean forward, unable to hear him.

Mason eyes the men and women crowding the bar. I find the exit and see more and more people flooding in. It won’t be long until every inch of the space is filled.

“Can we? Can we talk in private?” Mason asks.

I hesitate. He may be Julian’s brother and my subsequent neighbor, for the time being, but that doesn’t mean I can trust him, especially after learning of his membership to the most exclusive club you never want to join.

Mason rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Emma. After all, you are my fake girlfriend,” he jokes.

“Well, in that case . . . fine,” I tell him, though I’m sure to keep several feet between us.

Mason leads me from the bar area through a black door you’d hardly know existed if you weren’t looking for it. I watch as the door closes behind me and all the chatter fades away. It’s soundproofed. Suddenly, I second-guess my decision to follow Mason into the unknown. His name is on the list I plan to turn over to the police.

What if . . . what if the brothers sent him instead of Beaux?

“Are . . . you okay?” Mason asks, leaning up against a sound deck.

“Oh, it’s um, it’s a recording studio,” I say. I twirl around, taking in the space. There’s a couch, a few stools, a sound deck, and one large recording studio enclosed in glass.

“Where did you think I was taking you? The back alley?” Mason smiles.

“Uh, maybe,” I admit.

Mason shakes his head and offers me a seat on the couch. He, respectfully, sits on a stool across the room from me.

“So, like I was saying, he didn’t take the hint,” Mason says.

“What hint? That we’re together?” I ask.

“Oh, no, he got that.” Mason assures me. “That is permanently burned into his brain.” I cringe and swallow half my allotment of wine in preparation for where this conversation is going. “What he didn’t get is the hint to get the hell out of this city,” Mason reveals.

“What?” I ask. “How could he want to stay? I thought for sure that would be enough to—”

“To drive him away,” Mason says, cutting me off.

“Yeah,” I admit, slouching into the plush cushions of the couch.

“Well, it wasn’t,” Mason reveals. “I don’t know why he’s intent on staying, but he is. He turned this space into a recording studio, signed two local artists to our label and is planning to produce their albums right here,” Mason says, pointing at the studio. “That’s how intent he is on staying.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” I say.

“Well, it makes sense that he would want to be away from me,” Mason comments. “I’m based in LA, so, of course, he wouldn’t want to be there.”

“But it doesn’t make sense for him to want to stay in New Orleans and live next door to the girl who broke his heart,” I say. “Unless he . . .”

“Unless he what?” Mason asks, clasping his hands together.

My chest tightens. My throat burns. I inhale the rest of my Moscato.

“Unless he’s found someone else,” I say, setting my glass to the side.

Mason is quiet.

“I mean, it would be fair,” I admit. “I lied to him and I broke his heart, his trust,” I say, shaking my head. “I even ruined his relationship with you, his brother, the only family he has left.”

Mason drops his head and closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry for that,” I tell him. “I—I’m going to tell him everything. That’s why I’m here. It’s why I’m dressed like . . . like a freaking sexy cupid meets devilish enchantress,” I say, picking at the hem of my dress. “I just—I just hope he can find it in him to understand. Even if he can’t stomach the sight of me, I . . .” Tears fill my eyes. My insides burn as I hold them inside. “I just hope he can forgive you,” I tell him.

Mason nods, but he doesn’t say anything. I take it he doesn’t have much faith in my optimism. In truth, I don’t either, but it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.

“So, what’s the plan?” Mason asks. “Even if he believes you and forgives you and the two of you live happily ever after, there’s still the very real reality that New Orleans isn’t safe for you or anyone close to you. And, Emma, I know firsthand how far and wide the brotherhood’s connections run,” he says, shaking his head.

“If you do this, you’ll be running for the rest of your life,” Mason says.

I stand from my seat and brush the wrinkles out of my dress. It’s not that his words don’t scare me. It’s just . . . there’s no going back.

“It’s already done,” I say. And with that, I leave him to himself.

Our last look is one of deep understanding. Even without him knowing what I gathered in Presley, he knows I have enough to take down the brotherhood, at least the New Orleans operation. And when one falls, so will the rest—so will he. It’ll just take time.

Chapter 29

I close the door to the sound studio behind me, and immediately my strength leaves me. You’ll be running for the rest of your life. They’ll send him to make the problem go away and, Emma, you’re the problem. The words of both my father and Mason race through my mind, and my resolve begins to wane.

I did this to take back control of my life and overcome my fear of Beaux, of men, of being hurt, of being cheated on and lied to. But what if it was all for nothing? What if my old fears are only replaced by new ones of being hunted, not just by Beaux but by all the brothers? What if . . . what if Julian can’t find it in him to forgive me and I’m left alone, alone after I worked so hard just to be able to move forward with him? And what if . . . what if he does forgive me, and my dad and