Fallen Crest Family (12 page)

I could only hear myself breathing. I was panting, not breathing. I couldn't get enough oxygen and everything suddenly hurt in my body. All my limbs, everything hurt and I collapsed onto the chair by the desk. I had no idea what was going on behind me. I couldn't hear it. I couldn't sense it, but it didn't matter.

I had torn them apart.

My mother had torn them apart, like she tore my own family apart.

I clasped my eyes closed and bent over. With my head buried in my lap, I hugged my arms around my legs and started to rock back and forth. I kept going. The movement kept me from breaking down.

At some point, two strong arms slid underneath me and lifted me from the chair. I curled into Mason's shoulder. I didn't need to look; I would know those arms anywhere. He carried me to the bed and set me down gently. As he pulled away, I reached for his shoulder in protest. I didn't want him to go. I couldn't be without him anymore.

"Ssh." He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "I'm just going to lock the door."

It wasn't long before he was back. The light was switched off and I heard him undressing before he lifted me back up and slid both of us under the sheets. Then I rolled over to him, my eyes were wide, and there was a gaping hole in my chest. Only he could fill it. It was cheesy, but it was true. As his eyes caught mine, he held still for a moment. His chest rose in the air and I pressed my palm over it. His heart
picked up its pace at the touch as I kept my hand there, and Mason closed his eyes. Then he caught my hand with his, bent his head to kiss my palm, and gently placed his other at my hip. He moved me over some more before turning to tug me into his arms. Our legs intertwined together and I rested my head on his chest.

This was it, this was home.

Analise might try to take this away from me, but I knew that somehow we would stop her.

"What's wrong?" He felt my tension.

I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it, but found myself mumbling, "My mom…"

He drew in another deep breath as he tightened his arms around me. I felt his head rest on top of mine; his breath tickled my hair. He brushed back some of my hair from my forehead and shifted so he could press a kiss to it. His cheek rested there again. "I called my uncle. He's a lawyer."

I sucked in my breath and pulled away to look up. When he didn't meet my gaze, I grabbed his chin and made him. I saw the torn look in his depths and I froze.

No, she couldn't win…

"Mason," I whispered.

He clasped his eyes closed, his mouth twisted, but then he opened them again. Pain flared in them, bright and clear, before he sighed. "Your mom's right. I could be charged with statutory rape. And if I was found guilty, I'd be labeled a sex offender all my life. He said there's a seven year limit on pressing charges from when the act was committed."

I felt punched in the gut. "Are you serious?"

He nodded before his head dropped to my shoulder.

My hand went to his shoulder, I don't know what for. To soothe him? Reassure him with a massage? My touch felt insignificant compared to the burden that'd been placed on him, but then I shook my head. My mom was not going to get away with this. I pushed him back. She would not do this to him.

"Sam?" He cupped the side of my face.

He looked so sad, and that broke my heart. But it made me even angrier. She had done this, and why? Why was she doing this to me? To him? Mason didn't fold to anyone—that was one of the reasons I had fallen in love with him. But my mom had gotten to him, and she held something over his head that he couldn't ignore, evade, or scare away from her.

I sat up and cupped both sides of his face.

"Sam?" he asked again.

I shook my head and ignored the tear that fell. "I won't let her do that. I will make this go away, I have to, Mason."

A myriad of emotions flashed over his face, wariness, sadness, anger, darkness. He sat up and scooted against the headboard, and then he took both my arms. He'd been scared before, but now he let me see his fury.

My stomach wrapped in knots. Oh yes. There was the guy that I'd fallen in love with. I saw the danger lurking in his gaze. I had a sudden thought to rush from the bed and hurry to my mom, to get to her before he did, because as I continued to hold his gaze I knew he was capable of things worse than what I was going to dish out.

"Your mom is becoming crazy—" He stopped suddenly and looked away. As his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, he was trying to keep control. When he looked back, the fire had diminished, but only slightly. "Your mom's going nuts because she's lost you. She knows it and she's blaming me. What happens when you're eighteen, Sam?"

"I'm gone." The words ripped from me, from my vehemence. She couldn't do a thing to me then.

He nodded. "Exactly. You're gone." Then he waited for me to figure it out…

When I did, my eyes went wide and surged forward. "She doesn't want to lose me—" Like the last time she had lost something and the last time I saw that look of madness in her eyes. I shivered at the memory.

The blood was everywhere as I pushed open the door. My mother was slouched on the floor. She sat with her back to the tub and her nightgown was soaked in sweat and something red. As I pushed the door wider, the pool of blood sat beneath her. It grew slowly. The red on her gown was blood. She was covered in it.

"Mom," I whimpered. I was frozen in the doorway. My legs trembled, I couldn't move. Then something trickled down my leg. It was warm on my skin, but I barely felt it.

I no longer had to go to the bathroom.

"Mom…" I tried not to cry. Her eyes were closed and she was so white, as white as her nightgown—but no. It was red now. All of it was covered in blood.

My cheeks were wet and I raised a hand there. I couldn't have—oh—I was crying. Those were tears, I wiped them off roughly. She couldn't see me cry. She'd get mad.

Oh god.

"Mom." I couldn't leave her, but she wasn't answering. Then I looked back to the hallway. Was dad awake? I should go to him, but my knees were knocking against each other. Because I couldn't stand, I fell to the ground. My knees touched the blood now… oh god…I couldn't stop crying. She wouldn't want me to make any sound. She never wanted me to make a sound, but this…I tried crawling to her.

"Mom…"

"Hey!"

Mason was crouched on top the bed, on top of me. His legs straddled me as his head was bent low, eye level to me. He'd grown pale, but when I gasped, he visibly relaxed. He didn't move from my lap, his head fell low to my chest and his hands clasped my waist. His thumbs rubbed back and forth, a fresh set of tingles went through me. As he pressed a kiss to the dip between my breasts, his shoulders shook.

I lifted my hands there. Was he laughing?

No. As I bit my lip, confused at what had happened, he lifted his head again. His concern was evident as he lifted a hand to run his finger over my lip and cheek. Then he cupped my face again and breathed out, "Where did you go? I almost crapped my pants, Sam."

I let go of a long breath. As it rushed past my lips, my insides clenched together. The horror from that night was back. I couldn't get it out of me. I had forgotten it, pushed it down, and numbed myself, but it was back.

"Hey, hey," Mason soothed in a quiet tone. He pressed his soft lips to my forehead. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

I couldn't tell him. I hadn't told anyone, not even David. He should've been told long ago.

"Sam!"

I cried out, still held prisoner by those memories, but then I shook my head. My hands were trembling.

"What's wrong? Tell me. Please."

Everything was quaking in me, my legs jerked against his; I couldn't lift my arms because they were shaking so much. I knew my voice was going to break so I kept quiet and laid my head against his chest. I couldn't do anything. I waited, hoping he would let it go. I couldn't tell him, and after awhile his arms swept around me again. He lifted me above the sheets and curled me into his lap.

It was going to be okay. He was going to push that nightmare aside, he always did.

He murmured, "I have no idea what just happened, but you scared the shit out of me. You're going to have to tell me, Sam. Sometime, you're going to have to tell me."

But not today, not yet.

I closed my eyes and I burrowed even further against his chest. I wanted to curl into a ball and disappear.

"Sam, do you hear me?"

I nodded as I clung to him.

Then he relaxed, slowly, as he sank down into the bed. The memory was still with me, I felt its dirtiness on me as if I were actually back in that bathroom again so I tried to concentrate as I told myself I wasn't there. Her blood wasn't all over me and I was with Mason, I was safe. After awhile, a long while,
my heart slowed to a regular pace, and then exhaustion kicked in. Mason he pulled the blankets back over us.

The sound of the party still sounded, but in his arms, as his warmth sheltered me, I didn't really hear anyone else. It was just him and me.

It was early in the morning when I woke, but it didn't matter. The security cameras were up, the code had been keyed in. I was screwed. Analise would know where I'd been since she knew I would never spend the night with Adam Quinn.

Adam.

I sighed. Crap. What was I going to do about him?

Mason shifted in the bed. His arm lifted as he reached for me, but instead of letting him pull me back down, I sat up on the edge of the bed. Everything seemed harsh as I slipped away from the warmth of the blankets. The morning seemed brighter than normal, and it was damn cold.

I didn't slide back under the covers. I couldn't close my eyes and burrow into him anymore. When he rolled back over and continued sleeping, I decided that this was the day everything either went to shit or everything went fine.

With my mother, everything was probably going to go to shit.

I ducked inside the shower before I dressed and headed out. I hoped to find someone still awake downstairs that could give me a ride back home, but if not then I would wake Mason. I just didn't want to. If he took me home, he would come inside and the confrontation would be worse.

My hair was wet and I had Heather's clothes in a bag, grateful that Mason took some of my clothes with him to Nate's earlier. I thought his foresight had been ludicrous, but he hadn't. He was convinced I would be there sooner rather than later—he'd been right on two occasions already.

When I slipped from the room, I didn't look at Mason. I couldn't or I would've crawled back with him.

People were everywhere. Some had fallen asleep near the stairs, a few at the bottom of the stairs. As I circled around the set of couches on one side of the house, I saw a lot of people I didn't recognize. When I crossed over the center area and bypassed the square set of couches there, there were a few from my school. Then I smelled the coffee and a big smile came over me.

That smell would pull me anywhere, but then I turned around. "Oh."

Adam gave me a sheepish wave. "Hey."

My stomach dropped. "Morning."

He gestured to the coffee pot and slid his hands into his front pockets. The green polo and pants were wrinkled.

When I glanced around to see who else was awake, Adam misunderstood. "It's six in the morning."

"You stayed here last night?"

Of course, he had. I flushed at the stupid question.

He hesitated before he surged forward a step. Uncertainty was all over him as he cleared his throat, "Hey, uh, they're wrong, you know. I don't like them. I almost hate them, but not you. I don't want to hurt you. And I really meant it when I said I want to be friends. I…I told you about my dad, Sam."

I didn't move. I didn't say a thing, but I waited. He had something to say so I would listen…I also needed a ride home…

"I apologized for what I did and I came clean to Becky long ago." He jerked a tight shoulder up in a shrug. "She hasn't come to you, even though I told her that I came clean to you. That's on her; I'm more worried about my friendship with you. I do care about you and yeah, it might not be in the strictly platonic way, but I'm above that…or I'm trying to be above that. I'd never hurt you and I know hurting him would be hurting you too. I'd never sue. I don't want Mason and Logan to get between our friendship. I really do want to be your friend."

He sounded sincere. He looked sincere, and I sighed. I hoped he
was
sincere because I needed a favor. "Can you give me a ride home?"

He paused. Then he rapidly blinked in surprise. "That's it?"

I shrugged. "What do you want? We already had our heart to heart."

"Oh." He fell back against the counter. He seemed dumbstruck.

I waited. I wasn't going to pour my heart to Adam. I had cared about him before and he'd been a friend at times, but I was desperate. Mason would be pissed that I snuck out, but I really needed to get home before he got there. Everything could be destroyed if I didn't get there first.

"Look," I cleared my throat. This was going to sound awkward, but here went my best shot. "I—uh—as far as you and me, I figure we're good." As his shock deepened, I expanded, "I mean, I get it. You don't like Mason and Logan. You don't have to, but I knew that you wouldn't sue."