Chapter 95: Speak when spoken to.

Mason held his finger up to his lips and rushed to the wall, drawing his gun.

Thud. Creak.

Thud. Crack.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Would the women give Mason up? Was this a Stockholm Syndrome situation? Or would they want to get away? He couldn't tell. And he'd just let one loose.

This was going from bad to worse. Where was Travis?

Mason tracked the heavy footsteps, eyes trained on the opening, poised on the balls of his feet to move.

The clerk lumbered around the turn, his fat head so fused to his body he had to turn his torso to see Mason.

"Don't move." Mason aimed the gun at the man's head.

The clerk stared at him, his gaze dead, lifeless.

For a moment, no one breathed. No one moved.