I can’t imagine being in her shoes.
I know I shouldn’t push my luck with her when she could easily attack me and make it look like an accident, but I don’t care.
I’m tired of being thought of as helpless and weak.
If you’re going to survive this, you’re going to need thicker skin, and you need to get over the fact that Mason has a past. You do, too.
Granted, my past isn’t standing across from me, looking like they’d like to put a bullet in my head, but I won’t hold Mason responsible for what came before me.
The only way for us to make it through is to stick together.
Unless his father finds a way to get rid of you first.
Before Katia can respond, a radio crackles at her waist. She takes a few steps back and barks out something in a language I don’t recognize. Then she levels me with a withering look and turns her back on me. I remain in the hallway for a while longer before forcing myself to move.
At the foot of the stairs, I spot Mason heading toward me.
Once he reaches me, I realize two things at once.
The first is that he’s giving me the same small, gentle smile that makes my heart flutter.
The second is that he has a black eye.
With a frown, I take his hand, and he allows me to tug him back into the room. As soon as the door shuts, I lead him to the bed and wait for him to sit down. Wordlessly, I duck into the bathroom and blink against the fluorescent lights. A moment later, I’m rifling through the medicine cabinet.
Mason fills the doorway. “What are you doing?”
“You need a better first-aid kit,” I respond without looking at him. “Or your own hospital or something.”
Mason snorts. “We already have an on-call doctor. This was me blowing off some steam and it’s just a black eye.”
I turn to face him and raise an eyebrow. “And I got run off a bridge a few days ago.”
Mason’s smile vanishes, and he straightens his back. “That’s different. You could’ve died.”
“Infections can kill, too.” Without waiting for his reply, I stalk past him and back into the room. Mason follows me and sits on the chair I pull out for him.
“You can’t compare a car crash to an infection.”
I take a piece of cotton out of the box and douse it with disinfectant. “You shouldn’t keep things from me either, but here we are.”
Mason exhales and lets his arms fall to his sides. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have lied about Elise. I didn’t think you’d understand.”
I kneel in front of him and press the cotton to the small cut over his eye. “You should get some ice for that.”
Mason grunts quietly.
I stop cleaning and swallow past the lump in my throat. “Does this have anything to do with what went wrong yesterday?”
Mason presses his mouth into a thin line.
For a long time, he says nothing, and then he slowly nods.
I withdraw my hand and look at him. “Was it your dad?”
Mason doesn’t say anything.
I release a shaky breath. “He’s working hard to make sure all other dads look a lot better in comparison. Suddenly getting grounded for sneaking out doesn’t seem so bad.”
