The Second Life of Nick Mason (Nick Mason #1)(71)

He picked up some of the toys off the floor. He was about to get a rag and wipe off the coffee table when he said to himself, What the f*ck am I doing?

It was after two o’clock when they finally got there. If Eddie had any hopes of letting Sandra sleep through it, they ended as soon as she came padding out into the living room, wrapped up in her white robe.

“What’s going on?” she said. Then she saw Eddie holding open the door, his old friend Nick Mason walking into her living room, and then a woman with blood on her face.

The last thing Mason needed was another scream, but that’s what he got.

“What are you . . .” she started to say when she was done screaming. “Eddie, what are they doing here?”

“They’re coming in,” Eddie said.

“No they’re not! What the f*ck are you—”

“Sandra, calm down! They need our help.”

“You called him before,” she said, coming over to Mason and standing in front of him while she tightened the belt on her robe. “That’s why Eddie left.”

It had been five years since Mason had seen this woman. She’d gained a few pounds, but otherwise she hadn’t changed. Never mind the friendship between the two men or everything they’d gone through growing up, Sandra would never see Mason as anything but the one man she needed to keep her husband away from at all costs.

Not that he could argue that point tonight.

“He needed my help,” Eddie said to her.

“In the middle of the night? Where did you go?”

“Never mind. Sandra, will you—”

“Eddie helped me,” Mason said. “That’s all you gotta know. And now I need something else. From both of you.”

“I’m calling the police,” Sandra said, crossing the room and picking up the phone.

“No cops!” Eddie said, taking the phone from her.

“Eddie, give me that f*cking phone!”

“Listen to me,” Eddie said to her. “I’m only going to say this once. Our house?”

He gestured at the four walls.

“We wouldn’t have this house if it wasn’t for him. We wouldn’t be married. We wouldn’t have our boys. Everything in this house, everything you see, everything in our entire f*cking life, we owe to that man. Everything.”

Her mouth hung open. She didn’t even try to respond.

“This woman needs to clean herself up,” Mason said, nodding to Diana. “Then she needs to sleep. You need to take care of her because she’s been through a lot.”

Diana gave her a thin smile. She looked like the most exhausted person who ever lived.

“Nobody can know she’s here,” Mason said. “You’d only be putting your family in danger.”

Sandra’s mouth was still open.

“Nick,” Eddie said, “it’s okay. We got this. Don’t worry.”

Mason turned to face his friend.

“Promise me,” he said to him. “Promise me for both of you. Diana needs to stay here with you. If you don’t hear from me in three days, you need to get her out of town. Don’t take her to an airport. Don’t take her to a train station. Just drive her the f*ck out of town. Get her a car somewhere. Pay cash. Then you can come back.”

“No,” Sandra said, finally finding her voice. “We can’t do this. You have no right—”

“You have no right to say no,” Mason said. “Not tonight.”

He turned to his friend and said, “I need this, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes went from Mason to his wife, then back to Mason. “Of course,” he said. “I told you I’d do anything for you.”

Sandra wrapped her bathrobe even tighter around herself. She swallowed hard and nodded her head once, but she didn’t look at him.

Eddie’s two kids appeared in the hallway. They were both in their pajamas, a Chicago Bears helmet on each boy’s chest. They came over to Eddie and held on to either leg, looking up at Mason like a monster had invaded their living room.

“Jeffrey and Gregory,” Mason said. “Right?”

“That’s right,” Eddie said.

Mason got down on one knee and looked at the boys. “I have a daughter,” he said to them. “Her name is Adriana.”

The boys both retreated behind Eddie’s legs.

“Sorry if we woke you up,” Mason said. He got back to his feet and gave Diana a quick hug.

“Stay inside,” he said to her. “I’ll call as soon as I can.”

“What are you going to do?” she said.

Mason took out his cell phone and looked at it. He’d received a dozen phone calls over the past few hours, all from Quintero. All of them unanswered.

“I’m going to end this,” he said.





35




Nick Mason waited for Frank Sandoval to arrive. He had done everything he had been told to do. Now he was going to do something else. Something for himself.

He was too tired to sleep. Too tired to close his eyes. He had seen too much since the day he had stepped through those prison gates from one life to the next.

The benches in Grant Park were all arranged in a great circle around the fountain. The water hadn’t been turned on yet. The air was cold, so he had his arms wrapped around himself. The black box was held tight between his forearm and his chest.