Chapter 29
Grace
~ One month later ~
“It’s so weird to be here again,” Annabelle says, idly scanning the sunny scene that stretches before our eyes. “I never realized how beautiful it is here.”
She sighs, sinking a bit lower in her lawn chair. “Guess I was too occupied with other things back then.”
Her husband, Jon, is sitting next to her, regarding her with a tender smile as he squeezes her hand in understanding. The love between these two is so palpable, it’s impossible not to smile with them.
I understand now what Mason meant when he said that he no longer has reason to worry about his sister. I know very little of her struggles, other than the fact that they caused her to end up at the same place I found myself in a few months ago. But today she radiates nothing but happiness and contentment. She reciprocates the warm smile of her husband before she turns to me.
“I never thought I’d ever come back here. But it’s nice to be back,” she says. “And to attach some nicer memories to this place.”
I smile back at her, still a bit shy in her presence. Mason has told me so much about her that it feels like I’ve known her for years, but she still has this mysterious aura around herself, probably arising from the ominous and sinister depth of her darkest secret. The mess of a sober mind that very little on this planet understand.
I am one of them.
And so is Mason, I guess.
He was never charged for what he did to me—because I didn’t want him to be. I lied for his sake, and for my own. We blamed my disappearance on those guys, simply because it was the easiest way to explain their deaths to the police as well. Of course, my brothers didn’t approve at first, vowing to go after Mason, even though they don’t know exactly what he did to me up to this day. And I will make sure it stays that way.
Mason may have done unspeakable things to me, and some would call his actions more than misled and psychotic, but I understand why he did it. He did the wrongs things, but he came from the right place—and that is all that matters to me. He was the only person who knew what it took to bring me out of my shell, and to make me realize how strong and capable I really am. He wanted me for himself, but he also dared to challenge me in a way no one else ever would.
And even now, he doesn’t shy away from placing trust and responsibility in my arms. He promised me that I’d never be locked away again, but he also pushed me to find a new therapist, because he knew he couldn’t be responsible for my healing all on his own, he could only accompany me on my way. He acknowledges that I may still need some help to heal, help that he couldn’t provide, but he never made me feel like a burden.
On the contrary, it feels like he needs me just as much as I need him. He accepts my darkness just like his own, maybe that’s why he feels more like home than anything else to me.
“You think he needs help in there?” Annabelle asks, nodding toward the house behind us. “And since when does my brother cook, anyway? All I’ve ever known him to be capable of is sandwiches.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. He’s a better cook than me,” I tell her. “But I’ll see if he needs some help.”
She casts me a friendly smile as I get up from my chair and make my way inside the house, the warmth of familial comfort blooming in my chest. Being with Mason and his sister is so different to being around my own family. They may not be perfect and broken in their own way, but they’re so calm and open, so wonderfully collected and at ease with themselves. I just wish my brothers would see the appeal of this, a boring, normal life within the rules of law and without the mafia constantly on their heels. Only my oldest brother, Logan, turned his back to the life of crime we inherited, and it took him a long time to do so. Maybe one day, Jack, Carter and Tyler will follow him. I’m sure Tyler at least would be so much happier and content outside of that world, but he has no one to show him the way out. Maybe I can be that person for him one day, with Mason’s help.
I find him behind the kitchen counter, focused on preparing an elaborate cheese platter for the four of us.
“And your sister thought you’d be cooking for us,” I say, giving him a peck on the cheek.
“She wishes,” he replies, chuckling. “Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
Mild worry laces his features when he looks at me now, his fingers resting on the platter as he pauses his preparations.
“Yes, I just wanted to check to see whether you need any help. But we’re fine,” I tell him. “Your sister is very sweet. I can’t believe you two are twins.”
“She’s fiercer than she looks,” he says. “Just like you.”
He leans down to place a loving kiss on my lips, before he turns back to his task at hand. But I hold him back by placing my hand on his upper arm. Our eyes meet, and I feel like my heart is about to explode with happiness.
“You know I love you, don’t you?” I ask.
I feel like an idiot. It’s the first time I said this to him, and I chose to phrase it like this?
But he smiles, meeting my lips with another kiss, before he whispers: “Not as much as I love you, Grace. And I’ll show you just how much, as soon as we’re alone again.”