Chapter 31
Mattie
The last time I saw Mason Albright, she told me never to talk to her again. Normally, that was a pretty good indicator of when someone doesn’t want to speak to you.
But, future favors the bold, or whatever the fuck that saying is. So, our lack of conversation wasn’t from my lack of trying. Still, I was a little more than shocked when she randomly asked me to pick her up from the airport in Portland.
Never in my life would I have said no, but, unfortunately, I was with Dale when she texted. And, he was a little more than excited to see her name flash across my phone.
I hadn’t necessarily wanted to tell Mason about the murders Sophia and Sebastian committed, especially because my hands weren’t clean in that aspect. All I’d wanted to do was scare her out of Hartwood and put distance between her and Sebastian.
Dale was beginning to spiral, thanks to his desperation to see his twisted gospel come to fruition before the end of his life. He wanted me to keep an eye on Mason because, to him, she had become the missing piece to the puzzle of creating the second coming.
She survived when he had one of his lackeys drug her to the point of heart failure. She not only recovered after a short month-long coma, but she thrived. No one had any idea how she did it, especially without any lasting repercussions.
But she was supposed to die when they pulled her off life support. It was Dale’s last fuck you to Cameron. And now that she hadn’t? To him, she and Sebastian procreating would be the key to Dale’s eternal life and the Sons of Christ’s eternal salvation.
Worse than all of that, he thought Mason was already pregnant, which she was. And that was my fault for bringing up the pregnancy tests. But! In my defense, I thought those were for who I now know is Sophia. You know, because Mason just had a fucking baby. Why would she get pregnant again?
And the last thing I was going to do is let Dale get his withered hands on my girl.
I thought removing her from Hartwood would fix it, but I was wrong. And, while trying to help, I ruined everything.
Her slice of domestic bliss, our relationship, her peace, gone.
And, watching her interview yesterday tore me in two. She didn’t even look like herself anymore. So, while I agreed to pick her up, it wasn’t so I could drag her back into the lion's den of the Sons of Christ.
Instead, it was to pick up the broken pieces while I figured out something to keep her safe.
When I pulled up to the arrivals’ curb, my heart pounded so hard it rattled my teeth. Killing the radio, I grabbed the body spray I kept in my glove box and quickly doused myself before putting it back.
This was nothing. I was just picking up my ex-girlfriend, whom I’d thought about nonstop the last two weeks. No big deal. I could stay calm, cool, and–oh my God. There she was.
Mason-fucking-Albright.
A large black hoodie swallowed her frame, and between the hood and thick sunglasses, her face was almost entirely hidden. Luckily, I’d recognize her anywhere–unluckily, apparently, I wasn’t the only one.
People I hadn’t seen just moments ago swarmed her, cameras flashing in rapid-fire bursts so bright they rivaled the sun. People screamed her name and shoved microphones in her direction like she wasn’t even fucking human. She just pressed her hands to her ears and walked even faster.
My chest tightened as I wrestled with the urge to get out. My heart told me to help her, to shove every camera to the ground, punch a few paparazzi, and throw her over my shoulder like a god-damned neanderthal.
But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Because if I got out of the car, I didn’t know if she’d even let me touch her, and that scared me more than I cared to admit.
Frantically, she looked around before she noticed my car, then she broke into an outright run.
Her boots slammed against the brick sidewalk, and the wheels of her suitcase clattered behind her. Before I could even process what was going on, she tore the passenger door open, threw her suitcase into the back, and folded into her seat before slamming the door shut.
“Drive,” Mason ordered, hand clenched around her seatbelt.
And, I listened, pressing the pedal to the floor.
My car took off so violently that it slammed me back against my seat.
The engine roared as the crowd of the airport gave way to the open expanse of the highway.
If it’d been any earlier, I might have fucking rear-ended someone, but seeing as it was ten PM on a Tuesday, we were pretty much the only thing on the road.
That knowledge helped me breathe a little easier, and I let off the gas just slightly. Glancing over, I took a moment to make sure Mason was wearing her seatbelt; of course, she was.
But, I also used that opportunity to give her another once over.
“Where’s the baby?” I asked, turning my attention back to the road.
“I–what?”
“The baby,” I repeated, grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Before all of this happened, you had a cute little bump. Where’s the baby Mason?”
A strange silence fell between us, and I wondered if that was the wrong thing to ask. For all I knew, the stress I’d directly put her under caused her to miscarry. It would have been her body’s natural reaction, but I’d feel like a piece of shit.
Mason shifted in her seat, and in my peripheral vision, I saw her slide the hood back and remove her sunglasses, folding them neatly before hanging them on her collar.
“Considering I just spent the last week being told I should really go on a diet and that I’ve let myself go, I’d say the babies are still there.”
At first, her words barely registered. It all vanished into a haze of everything being fine, then a thorn of anger pierced my side.
“They told you what?” My words came out in a growl.
Mason didn’t look at me; instead, she pressed a hand to her stomach and exhaled.
“I let myself go, pregnancy isn’t an excuse to be unmarketable at a time I’m trying to reinvent myself.” She laughed apologetically.
“They know that you have a history of eating disorders and shouldn’t say that shit to you—right?”
Mason didn’t respond, and I was going to fucking kill someone.
“Okay, scratch that, you didn’t let that affect you, right?” I pushed, my voice sharp, like maybe I could force the answer I wanted.
Mason cleared her throat and rubbed her stomach.
“Mattie, I’ve lived through worse than a few shitty comments. I’m fine.” It sounded like Mason read the words off a script.
And my jaw clenched. She was fine, my ass.
“Bullshit,” I muttered, flicking my blinker as we merged left. “You’re pregnant, if I find out you’re starving yourself—”
“And you aren’t my girlfriend,” she sang with a shrug. “you don’t get to worry about me like that.”
Oh, I was going to kick her little bratty ass. And, my lips parted to tell her as much, then her phone vibrated and she held up a finger.
“My mom’s calling,” she explained.
“Your mom’s dead,” I grumbled.
She cut me a glare. “It’s hard to explain.”
That’s all she offered before swiping a finger across the screen and turning her phone on speaker.
“Mija, you were supposed to call me when the plane landed,” someone scolded her.
My lips sealed shut, and my brow raised.
“Sorry, Leo. Things got crazy when the plane landed.”
“I do not care if things get crazy. I practically raised you, and I deserve to know when you’re safe.”
Mason flinched, her hand curling protectively against her stomach. She sounded small when she spoke again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”
A long sigh crackled through the speaker. “I don’t need promises, I need proof. Are you eating?”
Mason’s jaw tensed. “Yes, Leo.”
“Real food, mija. Not just crackers and protein shakes. And don’t lie to me—I can hear it when you lie.”
“No, you can’t,” Mason shot back, her voice climbing into something bratty that almost made me smile. “you just called my assistant and caught me lying last week.”
Leona made a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “Exactly. Because I knew you were lying, and I proved it. That is the difference. Do not test me, Mason. I will win every time.”
“Fine,” Mason groaned. “no, I’m not eating, but—”
I reached over Mason and blindly tapped her phone screen until the call ended.
Her head whipped toward me, sunglasses sliding off her collar. “Did you seriously just hang up on Leona?”
“I’ve never met Leona, I don’t give a fuck about Leona. Did you seriously just admit you haven’t been eating?”
Mason blinked at me like I’d spoken another language, her mouth opening and closing before she snapped, “That’s none of your business.”
“Well, it is now.” I clicked my tongue and shook my head. “If all you wanted to do was box me out, why did you ask me to pick you up?”
Mason folded her arms, practically burying herself in that oversized hoodie. “Because you’re the only one dumb enough to still show up when I tell you not to.”
“Cute,” I muttered, the car sliding onto the exit ramp.
Her head jerked toward me. “Where are you going?”
“Food. Do you want burgers or chicken?”
“I’m not hungry, plus I’m a vegetarian.”
She was a vegetarian until the baby in her belly started craving red meat.
“And I don’t give a shit.” My grip on the wheel tightened. “You think I’m just gonna sit here and watch you starve while you’re pregnant?”
My eyes flicked down, not subtle enough to pretend I hadn’t noticed the curve she was trying so hard to hide.
“Burgers or chicken?” I repeated. “We can talk while you eat.”
“Can I have french fries?” she mumbled, now sounding close to tears.
I raised a brow. “Just fries?”
“No.” Mason sounded stronger as she wiped at her eyes. “I want french fries, with bright yellow liquid cheese and a Shirley Temple, with extra cherries. I’ve wanted them for two weeks and—”
“You’ve wanted french fries for two weeks and haven’t gotten them?” I snorted.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“No, I’m going to.” I pulled my car off onto the side of the road before flipping my hazards on.