26. Mason
26
MASON
L ike every man in the history of the world that has ever heard the phrase we need to talk, I know that I’m walking into an ambush. Dread settles into my bones as I try to push the bullshit down, even though I know it’s useless.
Because I know better.
I know better.
Something felt off yesterday, something I couldn’t shake, and instead of going over and seeing my girl, I’d brushed it off.
Big fucking mistake.
Because I’d bet everything I own that she’s gonna try and end things with me, that something has spooked her and she’s gonna run.
Without even trying.
Without giving me a choice.
The thought has me nearly crawling out of my skin.
Because we’re better than this.
We can get through this—whatever it is.
But only if she’s willing to try.
“Hey,” she says, opening the door wider but not moving to touch me.
Fuck.
“Where are the dogs?”
“Out back.”
Not good.
Any and all hope vanishes as soon as I see her face. She’s already given up. Fury simmers in my veins as I brace for it all.
As I brace for the end.
“Before you say anything, please just listen. I’m exhausted and trying to do the right thing, okay? I know you’re upset—I can tell—and I am too, but I just…I can’t do this, Mason. Between Jacob showing up at the university yesterday and then threatening to file for full custody today?—”
“He what?!”
“He was in the parking lot when I got to work. He knows about you—I don’t know how or how much—but he was furious. He was yelling and I felt like I handled it but, God, I was so shaken up and then I got inside and I talked with Coach Turner and my friend Amara. I filed a police report but?—”
Her voice trails off and it takes everything in me not to scream—to ignore the little voice replaying the fact that she called a friend and not me.
“And then what happened?” I say carefully, my jaw clenched.
“Today he threatened to petition for custody. He’ll make my life and yours hell, and he has the money. I can’t do this, ” she motions between us, “with you and manage all of that.”
“Don’t.” The word is low and deadly, and I barely recognize the sound of my own voice. She looks away and worries her bottom lip, and I see red because I can’t do this. My entire fucking life has revolved around domestic violence and the way the legal system doesn’t do shit to protect those who need it most.
“Mason, I…”
She sighs and crosses one arm over the other, rubbing her palm over her bicep.
“I said don’t.” Turning her head, she looks at me, defeat written all over her pretty face.
“This isn’t your fight. Jacob has always been an asshole, more so since…”
“Since he found out you were seeing me,” I finish for her.
“He showed up at the university, Mason. What if he sees us together? What if he tries to hurt you? God, I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.”
“Me?” I ask, indignation dripping from my voice.
“Yes, you. I just think it’s best right now if we?—”
“Why? So you can take this guy on by yourself? You think that’s better? Safer? The kids? This is all I know, Lana. That fear—no one knows it better than I do.”
“Mason, please.” Her voice cracks as she says my name, but my walls are already going up, the mask slipping into place, the one I’d never worn with her.
“Just say you don’t fucking want me, Lana.” Defeat slips into my tone, and I don’t bother hiding it.
“That’s not it and you know it.”
“Do I? Every time you let yourself be happy, something happens and you’re right back to running.”
“I’m not running and this… me, ”—she waves her hand around—“is a lot. I have baggage and not that we’ve talked about it, but I’m done having kids, Mason. And you’re just starting to navigate your twenties. You should have the chance to make your own family and?—”
“I had a vasectomy the day I turned eighteen, Lana.” The words are booming in the quiet room, her mouth hanging open as she gapes at me. “You don’t get to put your insecurities on me. I told you I’d help you work through them, but you’re not making me your out. Say you can’t love me. Say you don’t want me. Say the fucking words, Lana. You wouldn’t be the first.”
“I’m trying to protect you!”
“No. You’re making excuses because if you were actually trying to protect me, you’d let me in so we could do this together—fight him together.”
“You don’t know what he’s like. Hell, even I don’t know what he’s like,” she whispers, and I snort but it holds no humor.
“He’s a jealous guy, Lana, and now he’s an asshole. You think I’ve never met a guy like him? Lived with a guy like that and worse?”
She stares at me, her eyes filled with tears, but I can’t stop. I walk right up into her space as close as I can get without touching her.
“You won’t meet anyone as loyal as me, Lana. Everything I have is because I worked my ass off for it. The only person who has ever shown me unconditional love is Bodhi, and when I say I’d die for you and Holland and Beck, I mean that with every fiber of my being. If you can’t see that?—”
“That’s not what this is!”
“I’m not some fucking kid, Lana. I won’t beg for your attention.”
Tears stream down her face as adrenaline pumps through my veins, blackness creeping into the edges of my vision.
“I gotta get out of here. Call Nessa or Jensen—hell, just tell someone what’s going on. If you won’t let me keep you safe then someone else needs to know. Jensen’s gone but he’s still the sheriff.” I pause but don’t meet her gaze. “And lock the door behind me.”
I turn for the door, ripping it open as I stab the call button on my phone. I blink hard and will my breathing to slow, but I can’t stop this runaway train, and there’s only one person who can help me through it.
“What’s wrong?” Bodhi’s voice is steady. Serious. But I can’t answer. Lana calls my name from somewhere behind me, but it feels like I’m underwater, my body collapsing into the side of my truck as I try to keep myself upright. “Breathe.”
“I…”
“Don’t talk, just breathe.” He repeats it over and over as Lana drops to her knees in front of me, her eyes terrified as my vision goes in and out of focus. I’m scaring her. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I squeeze my eyelids shut and dig my nails into my palm, the pain like a jolt of electricity akin to jumping a dead battery.
I gasp and cough as air filters into my lungs. Bodhi curses on the other end of the phone as I slide down the side of the truck before landing with a grunt on the driveway.
“Where’s Lana?” Bodhi demands.
“She’s here,” I rasp.
“And she’s so fucking sorry,” she says, cupping my face and pressing kisses to my cheeks and forehead, my hand wrapping around her hip as I pull her into me, fitting her between my legs.
“Give her the phone,” Bodhi says and I do, letting my head drop to her shoulder as I hand my lifeline to the woman who still might be the love of my life.