Chapter 50.

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"Amara!" Mason's voice yells from the other side of the door, his fist banging against the wood.

I sigh with relief at the sound of his voice, immediately unlocking the door. He steps inside, closing the door and holding me in his embrace for a moment, kissing the top of my head.

"What happened?" he asks, holding me at arms length.

"I dropped the keys, a man picked them up for me," I pause, collecting my thoughts and replaying the encounter in my mind. "He spoke Italian, I cant remember the word—he had the leather jacket and the symbol you told me about, Mason."

"Shit," he spits, "I knew this would happen someday, I fucking said this would happen." he lets go of me, reaching behind the last remaining cabinet and pulling out a large black duffle bag.

"Mason?" I whimper, turning to face him.

He ignores me, grabbing clothes from the scattered drawers and shoving them aimlessly into the bag. Scooping up handfuls of shirts, his toothbrush, anything he can find. I stand there, watching, unable to fathom words, terrified of what's happening.

"Mason?" I repeat, my eyes welling up.

Silence.

"Mason, talk to me!" I yell, anxiously pulling on my shirt sleeves.

"There's nothing to say, Amara—we need to leave." he says abruptly, his tone eerily calm and his demeanour everything but.

"Leave? What do you mean, leave, Mason? We can't leave." I ramble, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"We have to." he snaps, zipping up the bag.

"You need to grab what you can, necessities, I'll look at flights and we can-"

"Flights? Mason, what's happening?" I shake my head.

"I read the email from that fucking hotel Amara, do you know who sent that email?" he pauses, as if expecting an answer. "The boss, the boss of the gang I was involved with, my family were involved with. It was a set up, Amara—a way of keeping an eye on me, on us." he explains, his eyes cold, his breathing erratic.

"Why now? Why come after you, Mason? I thought-"

"It doesn't matter what you thought, Amara. We need to go." he raises his voice, grabbing a jacket and throwing the bag over his shoulder.

"Mason, you're scaring me." I mutter lowly. I watch as his eyes soften, pulling me into his embrace.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbles under his breath, "Amara I need you to trust me, please, do you trust me?" he steps back, looking into my eyes.

"Yes," I choke.

"Then please, come with me, it's not safe here right now."

"Mason.. I can't." I look down. His behaviour is erratic, he's in a total panic and I don't know how to fix it.

"They found me, Amara—don't you understand? They didn't just find me, they found you too," he takes a deep breath, regret clear in his voice, "I should've listened to my gut when I first started realising my feelings for you Amara, kept you as far away from this as possible; but I didn't, and now you're in this too." he closes his eyes, as if to calm himself.

"I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you—I couldn't live with myself. Please, trust me, come with me." his eyes open again, his voice breaking slightly as I look at him.

I don't know if it's the look of sheer terror in his eyes, his erratic state, or just the fact I'm agonisingly terrified of losing him, but I open my mouth, and I speak.

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