Behind the Headlines

Mason's heart skipped several beats as the cold metal pressed against his skull. Eve's familiar voice sent a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the night air.

"Don't move," she growled again, "or I'll paint this parking lot with your brains."

His mouth went dry. This was it—she'd figured out his deception. "Eve, what's—"

"Care to explain," she cut him off, her tone deadly serious, "why our birthday boy who should be at his own party with the boys chose the police station as his preferred venue?"

The gun lowered, and Mason released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She was joking. Sort of.

He forced a chuckle, though his heart still raced, studying Eve's expression for any sign she knew more than she let on. "What can I say? The birthday boy was just buying himself a present before those idiotic cops got entertained about this card." He pulled out the black Platinum Pinnacle, extending it toward Eve, while being perfect maintaining his composure. "Those idiot