“It wasn’t that easy,” he growled out. “I was born intothat shit. I lived and breathed it from the moment I could process. I had a mother that never protected me and––”
“I was born into it too,” I snapped. “I was there too.”
“But you had me.” His voice was raised now and he’d lifted up slightly from his chair. A guard took a couple of steps towards us, but Ruben settled back down and Rafe waved the guard away. “You had me,” he said again. His voice now was quieter but firm.
“I don’t under––”
“When you were born you were so tiny.” His voice was hoarse now. “So, so small. So vulnerable. Same with Zach. I couldn’t let the same happen to you as it did me. I know I didn’t always manage it, but I deflected Dad and Freddie. I distracted them, redirected them and their violence, at least I tried to.”
He glanced at the yet-to-fade bruise on my cheek and flinched. “I could have tried harder,” he whispered.
There was a long silence then, during which some memories filtered back into my mind: Ruben buying presents for me and Zach at Christmas, Ruben helping me change Zach’s nappies when he was a baby, Ruben barring my entry to the house more than once after I’d left home, sometimes with that wild look in his eyes, telling me to fuck off. It was his way of shielding me; keeping me separate from the family was his only way of protecting me.
Then other fuzzier memories came through: me at five years old, having fallen and scraped my knee, Ruben picking me up and cuddling me, straightening my glasses and then putting a plaster on the small scrape, calling me his brave little mole. Then Dad’s angry voice:
“Stop fussing her. She needs to toughen up.”
“Keep that brat away from the gear for fuck’s sake, Ruben.”
I leaned forward and placed my hand over my brother’s on the table. He flinched and his eyes flew to mine. To my shock, they were glassy with tears. “You did the best you could,” I told him in a hoarse voice. “You tried.”
“I should have been braver,” he pushed out. “What you did…” He shook his head once. “Now that’s bravery. You, Little Mole, you’re braver than all of us fucking thugs.”
“Ruben I––”
“You’ll look after her,” Ruben cut me off, looking at Rafe now. It wasn’t a question; it was a command, but I could hear the thread of desperation running through it. Ruben was worried and he was powerless. “And Zach. You’ll protect them.”
“Always,” said Rafe firmly.
Rafe
Ruben Mason hadn’t deserved my reassurance. Maybe he had tried to protect his younger siblings, but he could have done more. I almost told him to fuck off when he barked his command at me, but the broken look in his eyes stopped me. Frank Mason had damaged all of his children in different ways.
As we walked out with the other visitors, I took Clara’s hand again and she gripped it like a lifeline. A wave of apprehension swept over me. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Clara,” I said softly, pulling her gently to a stop and letting the other visitors stream past us. “Don’t you think that’s enough for today? If you want to come back in a few months, then we can––”
She shook her head, that fire back in her eyes. “No. I need to do this, Rafe.”
By God, she wasbrave. I could feel the nervous tremors running through her, see how pale her face was, but her jaw was tilted at a stubborn angle, her mouth set in a grim, determined line. Clara Mason was not leaving here without seeing her father. I sighed.
“Lord Sterling?” a guard said as he approached us.
“Is the room ready?” I asked, resigned that this was going to happen, but relieved that it would be my way.
He nodded. “As requested.”
“Lead the way,” I clipped, and we followed him as he led us in the opposite direction to the crowd. We emerged into a long corridor and then stopped in front of a non-descript door.
The officer unlocked the door, revealing a small, austere room with a table and three chairs.
“He’s being brought in now,” he said. “The systems are offline for the next fifteen minutes. I’ll be outside. Knock when you’re finished.”
“Offline?” Clara whispered. I grabbed her other hand as the officer left the room and turned her to face me.
“Are you sure?” I asked. Uncertainty flickered across her expression before that fire was back.
“I’m sure.”
