Chapter Thirty
Roman
Lola, get your ass down from there right now.
Relax. It’s just water.
Water is as hard as concrete if you land on it wrong.
Guess I better land right then.
- Conversation between Lola, age 17 and Roman, age 24
Lola is not okay. She’s gone white as the snow that covers the beach every winter and she’s doing everything she can not to look me in the eye.
My father said something, I know he did, and I plan to make her tell me exactly what so I can fix it. Except the second I open the passenger door for Lola, Mase launches up from where I left him spread across the backseat.
“Lola,” he shouts, his eyes lighting up like a ten-year-old boy at Christmas. “You’re here!” He stretches his arms out wide. “My baby sister.”
Lola blinks, her mouth parted. She stares at her brother and whatever happened between her and my father must have been bad because I think she’d actually forgotten Mase was here.
He tries to squeeze himself between the center console, his army T-shirt twisted and untucked. He points a wavering finger at her. “You,” he slurs, “are a good sister.”
Lola keeps her arms crossed over her chest, her nails digging into my jacket. “Mase, please. I can’t right now.”
Mase’s face falls like a kicked puppy. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He slumps back onto the seat and stares at the roof of the car.
I could kick myself for letting it slip where we were going this evening but never did I think his drunken escapades would go as far as to follow us almost two hours into the city.
When I dragged him out of the restaurant, I’d been ready to leave him in the car park with money for a cab but I knew Lola would just worry about him if I didn’t make sure he got home safe.
The gray cloud she’s now wearing like a shawl has me tempted to drag Mase right back out of the car, if only to give her some peace on the drive home, but she’s already climbing into the front seat.
I clench my keys in my fist and round the hood to the driver’s side.
The engine is loud in the quiet as I flick the ignition and pull out of the car park. Unsaid words hang in the air between us.
I want to read Mase the riot act. I want to rage at my father. I want to ask Lola what he said to her but she’s steadfastly staring out the window, her body angled away from me.
In the end it’s Mase who breaks the silence, though much more docile this time. “That’s why I came here, you know. To say I’m sorry. I’ve been a—” he hiccups, “a pretty shitty big brother recently.”
Lola doesn’t respond.
I glance at Mase in the rearview mirror. His hands are folded over his chest, an oddly reflective pose for a drunk man.
“I’m glad you’re with Roman. He’s good people. Like my brother. But not your brother because that would be weird.”
Jesus. “Mase,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Sorry. I just meant he’ll look after you when I can’t.”
Lola whips around. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Mase’s glassy eyes widen. “Nothing, nothing. Sorry.”
Lola stays twisted for a long moment, watching her brother through the gap between the seats. When nothing else is forthcoming she turns back to the front, a soft sigh leaving her lips. A few miles of highway pass before he speaks again, this time the words little more than a cracked whisper.
“I lost a soldier.”
Lola’s eyes widen and I swear I feel the pain blooming across her chest like it’s my own. “Mase.” There’s no censure in his name this time, just raw empathy.
“On that mission, that went bad. We got taken by a militia group. Held hostage for days. They— they did things to her. Made me watch. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop it.”
My fingers go numb. Lola’s hand comes to her mouth. I stare at Mase in the rearview mirror, his confession catching me off guard. Fuck. I knew it was bad, but I didn’t know it was that bad.
A sob rips from Mase’s throat. “I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t—” His voice cracks as he looks at Lola. “I failed her, just like I failed you.” Mase turns into the back of the seats, pressing his forehead against the upholstery.
Lola grips her seatbelt. “Pull over,” she says.
“Lola—”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “Unless you want me to undo this and climb into the back of the car, right now, pull over.”
We’re going eighty miles an hour on the highway. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to pull over but I’d stop in the middle of a fire for this girl.
I check my mirrors, and we shudder onto the hard shoulder.
Lola is out of the car in an instant.
Mase’s torso wracks in silent sobs as he lies curled up on the seat.
Lola pulls open the door and joins him in the back. She flicks me a brief glance. “Okay, you can drive now.”
“Seatbelt.” After a stern look from me she straps herself in and lifts Mase’s head onto her lap. Lola looks at me. “Happy?”
Not in the slightest. My best friend is in pieces and the girl I’m in love with is pulling further away from me by the second.
I won’t be happy until I know exactly what my father said to her, until I’ve replaced every one of his vile words with kisses on her skin.
But I know Lola better than she thinks and right now I know she’s scared.
Our conversation can wait, so I dip my head and pull back out into the road.
“You didn’t fail me, Mase,” Lola says as she runs her fingers through his hair, which is now the longest I’ve seen it since he signed up. “You didn’t fail me. And you didn’t fail her.”
“I lost her,” he mutters, his sobs falling into numbness.
“I know. I know and I’m so sorry. But I’m right here, okay? I’m right here.”
I tear my gaze away from them and brush a hand over my blurred eyes.
“Have you told Mom and Dad?” Lola asks Mase, her voice soft.
“Not yet.” I watch through the rearview mirror as he peers up at her. “Will you do it with me?”
Lola looks like an avenging angel as she sits there in her shimmering dress, cradling her brother. Anger and compassion fight each other out, the emotions playing across her face as she processes everything Mase has been going through.
“Yeah Mase, we’ll do it together.”
He lets out a breath I think he’s been holding for weeks. “Thanks, Lo.” His eyes fall shut after that and a quiet settles over the car.
Lola stays in the back with Mase all the way to Pine Rock, murmuring softly to him.
I keep glancing at her in the mirror, my heart rioting each time she pretends not to notice. Lola wants to be there for Mase, I don’t doubt that, but I also know she climbed into the back to avoid me.
Whatever my dad said is gnawing at Lola’s mind like a flesh-eating virus.
I can see her over-thinking everything we’ve built this past month.
Feel her drifting away. It’s slow torture and I have to grip the steering wheel to stop from pulling over again and dragging her onto my lap until she comes back to me.
I force myself to focus on the road but the white highway lights cutting through the black are too rhythmic to provide any distraction.
I should never have taken Lola to dinner with me.
I should have known playing my father’s game wouldn’t end well but I think a small childish part of me was hoping that things could be different.
That he could love me. But no. The man that raised me is as cutthroat and ruthless as he’s always been. And I’m an idiot.
I spent most of my teen years trying to keep Lola safe only to hand deliver her to the lion’s den. It was a mistake, but it can’t be the end.
He may regret it now but sending me to stay with the Fords was the best thing my father ever did.
We’ll get Mase home and then Lola and I are going to talk because Lola’s right, we didn’t lose her that night. She’s right here. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting my father take away the only good thing he’s ever given me.