I clasped my eyes closed and bent over. With my head buried in my lap, I hugged my arms around my legs and started to rock back and forth. I kept going. The movement kept me from breaking down.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
At some point, two strong arms slid underneath me and lifted me from the chair. I curled into Mason's shoulder. I didn't need to look; I would know those arms anywhere. He carried me to the bed and set me down gently. As he pulled away, I reached for his shoulder in protest. I didn't want him to go. I couldn't be without him anymore.
"Ssh." He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "I'm just going to lock the door."
It wasn't long before he was back. The light was switched off and I heard him undressing before he lifted me back up and slid both of us under the sheets. Then I rolled over to him, my eyes were wide, and there was a gaping hole in my chest. Only he could fill it. It was cheesy, but it was true. As his eyes caught mine, he held still for a moment. His chest rose in the air and I pressed my palm over it. His heart picked up its pace at the touch as I kept my hand there, and Mason closed his eyes. Then he caught my hand with his, bent his head to kiss my palm, and gently placed his other at my hip. He moved me over some more before turning to tug me into his arms. Our legs intertwined together and I rested my head on his chest.
This was it, this was home.
Analise might try to take this away from me, but I knew that somehow we would stop her.
"What's wrong?" He felt my tension.
I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it, but found myself mumbling, "My mom…"
He drew in another deep breath as he tightened his arms around me. I felt his head rest on top of mine; his breath tickled my hair. He brushed back some of my hair from my forehead and shifted so he could press a kiss to it. His cheek rested there again. "I called my uncle. He's a lawyer."
I sucked in my breath and pulled away to look up. When he didn't meet my gaze, I grabbed his chin and made him. I saw the torn look in his depths and I froze.
No, she couldn't win…
"Mason," I whispered.
He clasped his eyes closed, his mouth twisted, but then he opened them again. Pain flared in them, bright and clear, before he sighed. "Your mom's right. I could be charged with statutory rape. And if I was found guilty, I'd be labeled a sex offender all my life. He said there's a seven year limit on pressing charges from when the act was committed."
I felt punched in the gut. "Are you serious?"
He nodded before his head dropped to my shoulder.
My hand went to his shoulder, I don't know what for. To soothe him? Reassure him with a massage? My touch felt insignificant compared to the burden that'd been placed on him, but then I shook my head. My mom was not going to get away with this. I pushed him back. She would not do this to him.
"Sam?" He cupped the side of my face.
He looked so sad, and that broke my heart. But it made me even angrier. She had done this, and why? Why was she doing this to me? To him? Mason didn't fold to anyone—that was one of the reasons I had fallen in love with him. But my mom had gotten to him, and she held something over his head that he couldn't ignore, evade, or scare away from her.
I sat up and cupped both sides of his face.
"Sam?" he asked again.
I shook my head and ignored the tear that fell. "I won't let her do that. I will make this go away, I have to, Mason."
A myriad of emotions flashed over his face, wariness, sadness, anger, darkness. He sat up and scooted against the headboard, and then he took both my arms. He'd been scared before, but now he let me see his fury.
My stomach wrapped in knots. Oh yes. There was the guy that I'd fallen in love with. I saw the danger lurking in his gaze. I had a sudden thought to rush from the bed and hurry to my mom, to get to her before he did, because as I continued to hold his gaze I knew he was capable of things worse than what I was going to dish out.
"Your mom is becoming crazy—" He stopped suddenly and looked away. As his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, he was trying to keep control. When he looked back, the fire had diminished, but only slightly. "Your mom's going nuts because she's lost you. She knows it and she's blaming me. What happens when you're eighteen, Sam?"
"I'm gone." The words ripped from me, from my vehemence. She couldn't do a thing to me then.
He nodded. "Exactly. You're gone." Then he waited for me to figure it out…
When I did, my eyes went wide and surged forward. "She doesn't want to lose me—" Like the last time she had lost something and the last time I saw that look of madness in her eyes. I shivered at the memory.
The blood was everywhere as I pushed open the door. My mother was slouched on the floor. She sat with her back to the tub and her nightgown was soaked in sweat and something red. As I pushed the door wider, the pool of blood sat beneath her. It grew slowly. The red on her gown was blood. She was covered in it.
"Mom," I whimpered. I was frozen in the doorway. My legs trembled, I couldn't move. Then something trickled down my leg. It was warm on my skin, but I barely felt it.
I no longer had to go to the bathroom.
"Mom…" I tried not to cry. Her eyes were closed and she was so white, as white as her nightgown—but no. It was red now. All of it was covered in blood.
My cheeks were wet and I raised a hand there. I couldn't have—oh—I was crying. Those were tears, I wiped them off roughly. She couldn't see me cry. She'd get mad.