Chapter 13 #2
The gun was cold and heavy on my lap, the scent of the forest and the ocean swirling through the air, my hair whipping around my face.
I leaned my head back on the seat and wrapped my fingers around the black grip of Mason’s gun.
Something about it was making me feel grounded, like I was so present in my body that I could feel every single stitch on my clothes against my skin, could feel every shift of Mason’s body a few inches from mine.
Even with the violent gusts blowing through the open windows, there was warmth between my thighs. I swallowed hard, breathing through my nose.
I thought about throwing his phone out the window, chucking it into the forest. What would he do then? Yell at me? Hit me? I dropped it in the cupholder with a clatter.
My eyes slid over to watch his hand on the steering wheel, fingers flexing as he shifted his grip. His other hand was in his hair, his elbow propped on the door, his white cotton shirt rippling sharply in the wind. I could see the swell of his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, through the material.
I forced myself to look back at the road.
Maybe I should try and throw myself out of the window. I wondered how quick he’d be able to stop the car—assuming I even survived the fall. If I ran into the forest, would he chase me? Catch me?
It wasn’t long before we were pulling into the parking lot of the first drive-thru we’d passed that was open.
Mason turned down the music, but he didn’t ask me what food I wanted as he pulled up to the speaker to order.
After a second, it crackled to life with an employee’s voice, and he placed his order, then drove around to the window.
I was still holding the gun on my lap as he paid and grabbed the bag of food.
Mason rolled both windows up then pulled around the side of the building to the small, empty parking lot. A single street lamp was shining down on the cracked asphalt, flickering slightly.
With the windows shut and the music turned down, I could hear the leather of Mason’s seat shift when he moved. Could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
He got a box of chicken nuggets out of the bag, the paper crinkling, and offered it to me.
“I’m vegan,” I lied.
“I might’ve believed you if you said vegetarian.”
Unfortunately, I’d thought of that too late. Of course he’d already seen me eat non-vegan waffles. I took the box from him, opened it, not strong enough to resist the allure of hot food. Even if it was full of preservatives—or whatever.
I ate a few chicken nuggets, then some of the fries that I found in the bag. Thankfully, there was also a huge cup of ice water in the cupholder between us, which I took several large gulps of. Mason was eating a cheeseburger, and it was so indescribably funny to me that I burst out laughing.
His eyes slid over to me, amusement tipping his mouth up while he chewed. He raised his eyebrows, as if to say what? Something funny?
“This is very domestic.”
“Yeah,” he agreed after swallowing. “I like it.”
“You’re not bored?”
“Not with you here.” He shook his head.
“I’m boring.”
“Are you?” He took another bite of his cheeseburger and looked out the windshield at the other fast food places along this strip, all closed.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not.”
I looked back at my lap, feeling stupid for some reason.
Mason and I kept eating our food. My anxiety was getting worse the more minutes that passed, because it was going to be time to figure out how to get home soon. I still didn’t know what to do about that.
“Can I have your address?” Mason asked casually, balling up his wrapper and tossing it back into the bag.
“No.”
He stilled, looked at me. “Let me rephrase. Give me your address.”
“Mason, I don’t—”
“I’ll take you to my apartment, then. Would you feel safer if we did that?” His brows furrowed.
“Would I be safe if we did that?”
“No. You’re not safe either way, baby. Comes with the territory.”
I carefully dropped my empty food containers into the paper bag, then wrapped my shaky fingers around the gun on my lap. My fingertips pressed into the textured grip. It was a solid weight in my palm when I picked it up.
I wasn’t going to shoot him, I just had no idea what else to do.
He still didn’t seem nervous about it.
He was simply waiting for my response.
“Can I call a taxi from your phone?”
“Sure. But I’ll follow that fucking taxi if you do.”
“That’s great, Mason. You’re so fucking great,” I scoffed, a little more scared than I wanted him to know. I considered shooting the windshield. I considered screaming. I considered a lot of things, but I found I didn’t really want to do any of them.
All I wanted was him.
This.
This fucked-up, terrible situation. Secretly, I loved it.
I can be difficult, I can be messy, and there might be someone who still wants me like that. Maybe it’s him.
I gave him my address. He put it into a navigation app. We drove out of the parking lot, following the blue line that was going to reveal another secret of mine. It was disgusting how many I’d already given him.
My trailer was about twenty minutes from the restaurant we’d gotten our food at, and Mason let me have the windows down again. He actually rolled them both down for me, so I could get enough oxygen into my lungs, into my brain.
He didn’t have anything to say as we pulled into the lot and I directed him over to the metal box belonging to me.
“I’m not going to thank you,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt and laying Mason’s Glock flat on the dashboard.
I pushed open the door. “So don’t hold your breath.
See you never.” I slammed the door and darted around the front of the car, practically sprinting up the few steps to my porch, the wood creaking below my feet.
I heard the driver’s side door open and shut, quick footsteps coming up behind me.
As I fumbled with my keys, he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, capturing my mouth with his. I wanted to bite him so hard he’d bleed on my tongue.
“Don’t kiss me where people can see,” I said, shoving him off me. He stumbled back a half-step before righting himself, his eyes dark and focused on my face.
“You don’t have your porch light on. Nobody can see.” He pointed at the plastic lantern attached to the metal siding, the lightbulb inside dark. “Why don’t you have your porch light on, baby?”
“Why are you calling me that?” I hated the way my pulse fluttered when he did. Hated how I became putty in his hands.
“Because I like you.”
“You’d kill me if you got the chance.”
“That’s not true. I’ve had the chance already.”
He kissed me again, deeper this time, his hand knotting in my hair to angle my head as he slid his tongue into my mouth.
I was grateful for the darkness because I knew my face was getting red.
Mason pushed me backwards, pressing my spine flat against my front door as he slid one of his legs between mine.
“You know, I’m sorry about tonight,” Mason said.
“No, you’re not.” I arched my neck, trying not to grind on his thigh while he sucked along my neck.
“I should be. I know that,” he said lowly, gripping my jaw to tilt my face up towards his.
His eyes looked sincere, but I wasn’t sure if that was a trick.
“I should be giving you more time, but I can’t.
I don’t want to let you leave me. Ever. Can you deal with that now, or should I try and hold back for longer? ”
“This is you holding back?”
“Put your number in,” he said, disregarding my question and shoving his phone against my chest. “And don’t try and give me a fake one. I know where you live.”
His tone made it sound like he was joking, but it wasn’t a joke. Not really.
“Do I have to?”
“Do you want to?” His stare held me in place, paralyzing me.
“I don’t know,” I breathed honestly.
“I’d like you to.”
“Okay,” I whispered, nodding, my shoulder blades still pushed flat against my front door and Mason’s thigh wedged between my legs. My thumbs were shaking as I typed my contact in, then gave Mason’s phone back to him.
He took a step back and grabbed my chin, holding his phone up—to take a picture of my face, I guessed. I wasn’t looking at the camera, though. I was looking at his face. He was so handsome, even while twisting my mind up in knots I’d never be able to untie.
Things were just so…intense.
Every emotion I felt with Mason I felt in my whole body. I tasted them in my mouth, inhaled them into my lungs, felt them like hot metal on my bare skin. They all consumed me. Anger, fear, lust, need. Something else I couldn’t describe.
“What are you gonna do when you go inside?” he asked, inclining his head towards me again.
“Shower and go to sleep.” I bit my lower lip, my fingers twisting together.
“Think of me.” He kissed the tip of my nose.
And then he left.