Chapter 33
Reagan
“Happy sweet sixteen to me,” I mutter, staring at my reflection in Mason’s bathroom mirror. I lift my shirt. There’s a bruise blooming on my torso, purple and yellow at the edges. A gift from my mother this morning when I made the mistake of being visible at breakfast.
Birthdays. The one day of the year guaranteed to be worse than all the others.
Mason knocks on the door. “You okay in there?”
I pull my shirt down fast. “Yeah.” I splash cold water on my face and come out. He’s set up our algebra books on his kitchen table. We have a test on Thursday. “Ready to factor some polynomials?”
“Ugh. Those again.”
I take my seat and open the books. “Don’t stress. You’re getting much better.”
“Thanks to you. Just a heads up, we should probably head to your place in an hour. Declan is being deployed tomorrow, and he’s having people over later. It’s gonna get loud.”
“Oh.” My stomach drops. “We can go to the library.”
“It’s closed for the day. Plumbing issues. I already checked.”
“Then just skip today. You should party with your brother.”
“What about the exam?”
“We’ll catch up tomorrow.”
“You will, but I need all the practice I can get. C’mon, I’ll be there the whole time. She won’t try anything with me there.”
“Do you know what today is?”
He shrugs. “Tuesday?”
“It’s my birthday, Mason.”
“Oh, Reagan, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Really. I don’t expect you to remember it or anything, but she is the worst on my birthday. I do my best to avoid her, so…”
“All the more reason I should be there with you.” He sits across from me, his expression serious. “You shouldn’t have to deal with her alone. Not today. Not any day.”
Where did I hear this before? I rub my fingers over my mouth. “But I do. For eighteen more months.”
“Give me a chance here, Reagan.”
“A chance for what? It’s not your responsibility.” My gaze hovers over the equations. “Or now that it’s officially legal to date me, you want to show the MC you’re taking care of your ol’lady?”
His head snaps up. His eyes are wide with alarm.
I can’t help it. I laugh at his expression. “Relax. It’s a joke.”
“That ain’t funny.”
“Kind of is.” It doesn’t hurt me anymore that boys don’t see me as a girlfriend, especially Mason.
It’s me who sees him as a brother and nothing more.
The truth is, after Shane, after understanding what he’s done to me, the thought of being with anyone—touching anyone, letting anyone touch me—makes my skin crawl.
He ruined it all before I even understood what it was supposed to be.
“But I mean it, if you want me to go to the club, tell them we’ve been together because we’ve been in love, not because you were grooming me or whatever they think, I’ll do it. ”
Mason goes very still. “What?”
“That’s why you’ve been helping me, right? Showing up at the hospital, giving me a place to crash. You want back in. You want them to see you weren’t the bad guy. That we’re…together together. That it’s real and serious.”
“Reagan, no, I—”
“It’s okay. Really.” I cut him off before he can finish the apology forming on his lips.
“I get it. It’s not a bad thing. I’m totally cool with it.
You didn’t deserve what happened to you because of me.
You’ve been good to me, Mason. Better than anyone has in a long time.
If lying to the club gets you your life back, I’ll do it, with pleasure. ”
He shakes his head. “That’s not why I’m helping you.”
“Please, Mason,” I stare him in the eye, “don’t lie to me.” I’m so fucking tired of lies. “You don’t have to. I’ve just told you I’m totally cool with it and happy to help.”
“Okay, maybe that’s part of it, was part of it, but I’m helping you because you’re a kid who got dealt a shit hand, and someone should’ve stepped in a long time ago.”
“You tried, and I was…”
“A child who didn’t know better.” His voice is rough with anger.
The sincerity in his eyes cracks something inside me. I look away quickly, blinking back the burning sensation behind my eyelids. I know I won’t cry, though. I don’t think I can even if I want to. I cried all my tears last year.
“I ain’t using you to get back in that club, Reagan. I don’t even want back in. Not anymore. You don’t know the shit Shane got the MC into. It’s a shithole I don’t want anything to do with.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay.”
We practice in silence for a while, the scratch of pencils on paper the only sound. He asks me to check his work, and he’s getting much better at factoring polynomials; he may actually pass this year.
Declan arrives with beers and snacks. That’s my cue to leave.
Mason walks me out and begs me to practice some more at my place. He takes this more seriously than I thought. It seems he really wants to graduate. Maybe he even wants to get out of this town as much as I do.
“Please, Reagan. She’s probably too drunk by now. We’ll be very quiet. She won’t know we’re there.”
“And if she does?”
“She won’t, not when I’m around. She doesn’t want witnesses, right? But if she does, I’ll stop her. I will protect you. I promise.”
I want to believe him. I want to believe that having someone else in the house will be enough to keep her hands off me. I want to believe that promises mean something. But experience has taught me better.
Against my better judgment, I nod.
The house is quiet when we arrive. Too quiet. Mother’s car is in the driveway; she’s home. Probably upstairs, working on her second bottle of the day.
“See?” Mason whispers as we slip inside. “Coast is clear.”
Heart in my ass, I set up in the dining room—I won’t let him in my bedroom, not even for studying. The dining room is the safest bet. It’s far enough from the stairs and close enough to the door that we can leave fast if we need to.
For thirty minutes, it’s fine. Mason struggles through quadratic equations while I guide him. After solving seven more problems, I can see the moment it clicks in his eyes. He finally starts to get it.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps on the stairs. Heavy, uneven. The shuffle of a miserable hag who has had too much to drink.
Bile rises to my throat. I shove my books into my backpack as quickly as I can. “Mason, we need to get out of—”
Mother stands there before I get to finish, swaying, a bottle dangling from her fingers. Her bloodshot eyes glare at me. Her mouth twists into something ugly.
“Well, well, well.” Her words slur together. “Look who the whore brought into my house, her fucking pimp.”
“No need for ugly words.” Mason stands. “We’re just studying, Mrs.—”
“Shut your mouth, you piece of shit.” She points the bottle at him. “I know what you did to my daughter. Whole town knows. You think you can just waltz in here like nothing happened?”
“He didn’t do anything. It’s Shane, and you know it. You covered for him and let Mason take the blame.” I snap out of the blue. I shouldn’t have talked back. I know better.
“Reagan, it’s okay.” Mason looks at my mother. “We were doing homework. That’s all. We’ll leave now.”
“Homework.” She laughs cruelly. “That what they’re calling it now?”
She moves faster than I expect, lurching across the room. Her hand tangles in my hair, yanking me away from the table. Mason flies to stop her, but it’s too late. I’m on the floor, but she doesn’t stop. Pain explodes across my scalp and my back as she drags me like roadkill across the stairs.
I don’t scream for help or beg her to stop. I just stare at Mason in silence.
“You bring that filth into my house?” She’s screaming now, spit flying from her mouth. “Today of all days? The day you ruined my life?”
Mason grabs her arm, prying her hand out of my hair. “Let her go!”
“Fuck you!” My mother slaps him and shoves me down the stairs.
I tumble down on my face, my body slamming against each step. Something in my shoulder pops. My head cracks against the banister. Then I’m at the bottom, sprawled on the floor.
“Reagan!” Mason yells.
More shouting fills the air. Scuffling. My mother screaming obscenities. The room spins, and I see red, literally. Blood must have gotten into my eyes.
Strong hands lift me, careful despite the urgency. Mason’s face swims into view above me, his expression twisted with fury and fear. “I got ya,” he says. “I got you.”
He carries me out of the house, my mother’s curses following us into the street, all the way to his car, and settles me gently in the back seat. Then he presses his jacket against my bleeding forehead and tells me to keep pressure on it.
“I’m sorry,” he keeps saying as he drives to the hospital. “Fuck, Reagan, I can’t believe this shit. This woman had been friends with my mom for years. She was nice to us. She had me over for days when Mom died. How could she be so goddamn… Fuck.”
“She locked me up in the attic to have you over, Mason.”
“Jesus Christ! I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I mean I thought it was just a little… I should’ve known… You weren’t exaggerating…”
“It’s fine.” I manage through the pain radiating from my shoulder and back…and head and…everywhere. “I’m used to it.”
“That ain’t fine. None of this is fine.”
“There’s no stopping her, Mason. There’s no stopping them.”
“There gotta be a way.”
I swallow a moan, thinking about my next words carefully. Should I tell him? Can I trust him?
“When you say them…” He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Is he… Does Shane still…”
“Yes,” I whisper. “He comes to my room late at night when he’s bored of his whores. I tried to stop him, to say no, but…” My eyes squeeze shut. “He doesn’t take no for an answer. Suffice it to say it wasn’t Mother who fractured my pelvis three months ago.”
Mason’s breath seethes. “He ruined both our lives and lives like a fucking king. He can’t do this shit anymore. He’s gotta be stopped.”
“She, too. She, too, must be stopped.”
“We can go to the police, you know. I’ll testify. I’ll tell them everything.”
“That ship has sailed, Mason. Last year, maybe that could have worked, but now, there’s no evidence, and your testimony won’t count, not after what they made the whole town believe about you and me.”
“We can’t just stand by and let them do whatever the fuck they want. There’s gotta be something we can do to stop them.”
“You’re right.” I pull myself up, groaning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and there might be a way to make Shane and Mother pay for what they’ve done, a way to get our lives back without any more fear or pain, but I can’t do it on my own. I need your help.”
Mason’s eyes lock on mine. He studies me for a long, silent beat, the air thick with what we both know must come next. Then he nods once. “Whatever you need, I’m in.”