Summer
Frozen, I watch in horror through the spindles of the staircase as Mase recounts his experience. Vomit threatens to make an appearance as he tries to explain what that bitch did to him.
Did to us.
When his sobs echo through the foyer, a shudder takes over my body, and a low whimper startles me, then I realize it came from me.
He needs me.
I need him.
I need to make this right.
Fury coupled with a fierce need to comfort and protect the man I love has my feet hitting the marble staircase and racing toward him. When he lifts his face to meet mine, I fall to the floor at his knees, at the power of the absolute devastation on his face greeting me.
He looks distraught, sick, his face etched in torment yet drained of blood, and with every fiber of my being, I vow vengeance for him. For me and our babies.
I softly cradle his face in the palms of my hands, much like he has done with me time and time again.
“You’ve always kept my heart safe, Mase. I believe you,” I whisper against his soft lips. His shoulders relax, but he retreats, making me jerk back, and regret rifles through me. Have I lost him? I search his eyes for an answer.
“Don-don’t kiss me, Summer. Not … not yet.” He shakes his head furiously. “She tried …” She tried to kiss him. I nod and get to my feet, then hold my hands out for him. The uncertainty in his eyes makes me want to crumble to the floor, but I want to be his strength like he is mine.
“Shall we get you showered?” I suggest, hoping he takes the lifeline.
Taking my hands, he stands to full height, his hold on me so tight, as if he’s terrified I’m going to change my mind and release him. “Yeah. Is that okay?” He flits his eyes toward Reed, and his Adam’s apple slides down his throat.
“Sure, man.” Reed gifts him with a firm nod, then I take my time guiding him up the stairs and into the spare bedroom.
The silence between us is odd, comfortable, yet full of something tangible. I head into the bathroom and switch on the shower, and Mase drags his feet behind me. I get the feeling he’s scared of letting me out of his sight.
He jolts and rushes over to the sink, where he dumps toothpaste on a toothbrush before scrubbing frantically at his teeth. Then I realize, with blood crusted on his skin, he’s been hit with something, and fury burns inside me, forcing me to breathe out through my nose in order to control it.
By the time he’s finished, he’s panting wildly, and I tug on his arm. “Shall we get you out of these clothes?” I suggest, hoping he doesn’t hear the anger consuming me.
He turns to face me, scanning my face. “I want you to burn them.”
“Consider it done.” My lips twitch, knowing it’s no hardship. I’ll happily burn them, along with her, but not until after I’m finished with her. She’s going to pay for hurting what’s mine.
He lifts his T-shirt over his head, and I pop open his jeans, then he kicks off his shoes and toes off his socks before I drag his jeans to the floor.
I tuck my fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
Freezing, I lick my lips. What if this is too much for him? “Do you want me to stop?”
“Fuck no. I want her touch gone.” He says it with so much conviction, I know he needs this; any doubt is banished from my mind.
I nod and lower his boxers. He steps out of them and kicks them to the side, then watches me closely until I’m naked and leading him into the shower.