Page 93 of Bruised

“No.”

Okay. That’s something.

“But I almost killed someone,” he continues.

I frown. “How do you almost kill someone?”

“By beating them to a pulp.”

I glance down at his hands—those strong, safe hands that have held me and pleasured me and made me feel safe. Maybe they’re not as safe as I thought.

“Why?” I ask, mouth dry.

He sighs. “Tess and I worked at a bar a few years back. It was my first job out of high school. I hadn’t turned twenty-one yet, but I looked old enough that the boss didn’t give a shit. And as for Tess… Well, she’s a hot piece of ass, and she likes to show off, but it’s strictly for the ladies, if you catch my drift. And the boss, uh… let’s just say he didn’t care.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was all up in her business constantly. Making innuendos, checking her out while she was working, telling me about how badly he wanted to tap that. I was this close to punching him out every fucking shift, but I needed a job, and Tess and I had fun together, so I stayed.”

“What happened?”

“One night, we were having a few beers with some coworkers after our shift. Boss came and joined us, and shit wasn’t so fun after that, so Tess and I split. In the parking lot, I was right at my car when I heard her scream.”

I stare at him, completely engulfed in the story, dreading what’s coming next.

“It was the boss,” Mason mutters. “Had her against her car, feeling her up. And I guess I just… snapped. Had him on the ground before I could blink, beat him so hard my knuckles split.” He strokes a finger over his hand, lost in the memory. “He fought back, but I kept him down. And I kept beating him. Tess screamed at me to stop, and someone called the cops—I don’t know who. By the time they arrived, well… Let’s just say the pavement was covered in blood and teeth. Tess tried to talk to the cops, explain what happened, but no one listened. We both had shit on our records—she had some drug charges, and I had a DUI and some other shit. But the boss? All clear.”

I find that hard to believe. Even if he hadn’t been caught, it surely wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that.

“I got two years for aggravated assault,” Mason continues. “Tess got nothing, of course, but she lost her job.”

“What about the boss?”

“Last I heard, he was back up and running the bar.”

“That’s awful.”

“It’s how shit goes.”

“Yeah, but it still sucks.”

Mason shrugs, and after that, he’s silent for a beat. “Now what?” He glances away, jaw clenching. “Are you afraid of me?”

I look him over: his intimidating, muscular body, the way he holds himself, his obvious strength. I think of him as he must have looked in the moment—pissed off, out of control, reckless…

“I should’ve stopped,” he says, gaze dropping to the floor. “But I didn’t. That’s on me.”

“What if… what if it happens again?”

“I was supposed to get anger management in prison, but it fell through. Budget cuts or some shit, so I have to manage it on my own. Working out helps. If my body’s worn out, it helps me feel calm, at least somewhat. And, uh…” He looks up, meeting my eyes. “Sex helps even more.”

“Oh.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but I know that’s not enough.”

“Is that why you wanted to… with me…”

“Why I wanted to fuck you? Hell no.” He flashes a smirk, but it fades quickly, and his gaze softens. “That was just because I wanted you so much. It wasn’t some elaborate plan; I just couldn’t keep my hands off you.”