Me: Traitor.
Nora: Try and get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Me: Fine.
At least staying with Mason meant my mother didn’t know where I was. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t hear from her again. Her election campaign needed an intact family. Not only had she married again last year for exactly that reason—and to someone only five years older than me—but she made the world believe that I still lived at home. Apparently, we were a wholesome, loving family. Which was so far from the truth, I felt like I was starring in my own scripted reality show.
I didn’t sleep much that night, just tossed and turned and cursed my poor choices and shitty behavior. I was a grown woman who let her mother dictate to her what she could and couldn’t do.
I was slow getting out of bed the next morning, and it took me longer than usual to put my clothes on. I took care to apply some makeup, expecting Mason to knock on the door at any moment. The interruption never came and there was even time to do my hair. I managed to put a few hairpins in and was pretty proud of my efforts. My arm was feeling better but if I didn’t have to use it I wouldn’t. Building a dresser for Nora was a good reason to suck it up. Doing my hair wasn’t.
I left the safety of the bathroom, ready to face the world. What I wasn’t ready for was a sleepy Mason who stumbled out of his room, wearing only his pants. I froze in the hallway, my eyes taking in all that was him. His hair was a mess, but it looked better than ever. My eyes swept over his defined stomach down. He was pulling a T-shirt on as he walked, blocking my view.
He grunted at me in passing about his alarm clock not working and I hid my grin behind my hand.
I went downstairs and fed Loki, then started the coffee. Mason joined me in the kitchen ten minutes later, looking a lot more awake and put together.
“You ready to go?” he asked while he poured his coffee into a travel mug.
“Yup,” I said and held up my own travel mug.
The drive to the garage was once again quiet, but thankfully less charged than last night. He opened my door but didn’t help me down. He went one way, I went the other, and I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.
I had a few invoices to catch up on, so I didn’t notice how late it had gotten until I checked the time. It was nearly seven, and I was surprised Mason hadn’t come and gotten me. He was usually ready to leave by six.
Shutting down the computer I packed up my stuff and walked out into the garage to his workspace.
“That’s it, baby, right there,” a hoarse voice moaned.
I stopped dead in my tracks and my eyes went wide. Hell no, he didn’t. He knew I was still in the office. He also knew I would eventually come looking for him.
I turned on my heels and left. I didn’t need this. He could go get fucked. Which apparently he was already doing.
Once I made it outside, I took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching my fists. Once I had my anger under control, I called a taxi and waited on the sidewalk.
It was a weekday in Humptulips, so the taxi arrived in a few minutes. Luckily the driver wasn’t anyone I knew, so I didn’t have to make painful small talk.
I directed him toward one of the two motels in town and checked in. This time I wouldn’t take any chances of Mason finding me again. I needed a night off. I was ready to wallow in self-pity and eat copious amounts of snacks from the vending machine. By myself.
The small room was covered in rose wallpaper, the bed clean, and the shower mold free. I had stayed there before and knew the owners wouldn’t give out any information. They had covered for me many times in the past, and I was sure I could hide out there again.
I turned the TV on and dumped my purse on one of the two chairs in the room that sat next to a small table by the window. I splashed some water on my face and went outside to clean out the snack machine.
Not an hour later I was sitting on the bed among empty wrappers, cursing my lack of self-control. After I got past the urge to vomit, I curled up under the blanket and passed out.
I woke up to pounding on the door and a plastic wrapper stuck to my cheek.
“Open the damn door,” a familiar voice commanded.
I peeled the wrapper off and threw it on the bed. A glance at the clock showed it was just past midnight. I debated whether or not I should ignore the giant douchebag outside, but the pounding would wake everyone within a five-mile radius.
Trying to do the right thing, I dragged myself upright and pulled the blankets back. The chill of the room left goose bumps on my arms and I shivered.
“Stella, get up right now and open this door or I will do it for you,” the angry jackass yelled. If nobody had woken up to the pounding, the yelling would surely have done it.
I pushed to my feet and padded to the door, yawning. The chain wasn’t hooked up, so all I had to do was undo one lock and open the door. As soon as it was unlocked, it was pushed open all the way and I stumbled back.
“I didn’t say you could come in,” I seethed and glared daggers at Mason.
