“What happened?”
Mason visibly grimaces even beneath the mask. “I just couldn’t box it up in my head like you said. I kept thinking and thinking andthinking, and the only way to silence it was to clean.”
“Did you take some medicine?”
Mason shakes his head. “I didn’t want to. I wasn’t triggered, I just… I’m scared. I don’t know how all of you stay so calm. I mean, I killed a man! My uncle! And then someone fucking moved his body and made it look like he was mugged. What the fuck?”
I nod, which he accepts as understanding. “You’re right, it’s all really fucked up. But I promised you that you won’t go to prison and I stand by that. Even if something comes out, I won’t let you go, okay?”
“But how?” Mason cries, close to hysterical.
“Just trust me. You trusted me the other night, to get you home, to keep you safe. Trust me when I tell you that everything’s going to be okay.”
Mason takes some gasping breaths, his fingers working against the ground like he’s trying to hold on to the side of a glacier. “God, I can’t breathe in here anymore.”
I stand quickly and gesture for him to copy me. “Let’s go outside.”
We make our way out to the back porch. I take a grateful gulp of the fresh air. We’re going to have to open every window for the afternoon to get the chemical smell out of the house. But we’ll make do, I guess.
Mason tiredly slumps down into one of the wrought iron chairs. I sit beside him, grimacing at the feel of the cold metal seeping through my thin shirt. Mason whips the mask off, and I finally catch a good look at his face. His cheeks are red from the exertion of cleaning and his lips look chapped. He swipes his tongue across his lips, and sudden vertigo hits me when I overheat, my pulse pounding hard in my chest like I’m being chased by a dinosaur. Fuck. Holy shit.
I’m attracted to Mason.
And I decide to have this epiphany when he’s having a grade A–level anxiety attack.
I am an astonishingly awful person.
“Maybe… Maybe you need to kill another person?” I ask hesitantly.
Mason turns his horror-struck gaze toward me. “I’m sorry. I think I misheard you.”
“Hear me out…”
Mason shakes his head so furiously it looks painful. “Parker. No, oh my god. I’m going to go into cardiac arrest.”
“Can I touch you?”
My question stills Mason. His chest calms its rapid movements and his eyes catch on mine. “No. No, but… I wish you could.”
I guess that’s good enough. I lean closer to him, wishing he could allow me to touch him, to calm him with a firmhand on his thigh or brush away the sweaty auburn strands of hair that stick to his forehead.
“Listen. Maybe killing someone else will help because then it won’t be just your uncle. I don’t know, I can run it by the guys.”
Mason takes a deep breath and tiredly tilts his head back to stare listlessly up at the sky. I try not to get caught up in the sight of his throat bobbing, but it’s impossible. Now that the train has left the station, I can’t keep the thoughts from running rampant. What would he taste like? What would he sound like if I kissed the hollow of his throat? What does he smell like in the mornings after a night of deep sleep? And could I hold him all night to keep his terrifying thoughts at bay? I’m so beyond screwed.
Mason ends up laughing, still slightly hysterical, but free from the grips of panic. “I can’t exactly run it by my therapist either.Hey, Nora, I killed my uncle and now I’m wondering if killing another person will make me stop thinking about going to prison?”
I grin at Mason, unable to hold my own laughter back. “It’s just a thought.”
Mason sighs deeply, then aims his tortured deep blue gaze at me. “Has Reid killed someone yet?”
I shake my head. “No, Dante won’t let him.”
“Won’t let him?” Mason echoes, frowning.
“It’s a line Dante has. He wants to keep Reid innocent.”
That startles another laugh out of Mason, and suddenly we’re both laughing like school kids. It’s so nice just to laugh with him. When I’m with him I don’t feel like I have to becoolor be the perfect shot like I am with the boys, I can just be… me. Just Parker. Once the laughter fades, Mason takes a deep, strained breath. The chilly air washes over us and Mason looks back at the house with an exhausted air about him.
