by Ella Frank
Wendy gave him a half smile and then whispered, “Which one?”
Lena stepped onto the snow-covered grass and made her way through the tombstones that lined the way. It’d only been a little over a month since she had last been here. In her hand, she held the envelope that Mason had given her. It was still unread and still sealed, and as she stopped in front of Catherine’s resting place, she glanced down and took a deep breath. The sun was out today but the wind was still cool as it whipped around her hair. She raised her hand, brushed a stray piece behind her ear, then glanced up at the sky and watched as a bird flew overhead. Sighing softly, she looked down to the white carpet below her feet.
“So I thought I’d come and visit you today,” she said softly as she fiddled with the envelope. “You always told me I couldn’t run from my problems and that I needed to face them head on, even when I found that so difficult. From the time we met you urged me to face the fear that I had inside myself and to live life the way Carly would’ve wanted me to.”
She shuffled her feet back and forth, still feeling uneasy about talking to someone who would never talk back.
“Mason gave me your letter. I haven’t opened it yet, but I bet that doesn’t surprise you. I mean, after all, it took me nine years to gather the nerve to go and visit Carly and yet you think I’m going to be able to read a letter from you just like that, huh?” she said with a slightly awkward smile.
Lena took in a deep breath and looked down at the envelope in her hand. Closing her eyes, she remembered Mason telling her that his mother had once told him that a cemetery was a place for the living, not the dead. This was the place where the living came to talk, to say goodbye, or to cry with the ones they loved. It was a place where no one judged and you could say whatever you wanted and know that you were heard. Smiling at that memory, she opened her eyes and unsealed the envelope.
Dearest Lena,
If you’re reading this, it must mean the inevitable happened. I know you’re probably upset with me, but let me tell you right now, it’s not worth being angry over. There’s nothing you can do to change it now, just like there was nothing you could do to make me change my mind then.
You weren’t supposed to know anything more than what Mason or Rachel knew. I never wanted to put you in a position where you’d have to be in the middle. Unfortunately, you knew more than you should and I asked you to do the unthinkable: keep it from someone you love.
He’s probably pretty angry with you right now, if he found out that you knew I was ill, but Lena, you have to fight. He’s stubborn and once he makes a decision, whether it is right or wrong, he’ll stick to it. Just like he stuck to the idea of breaking through to you.
Don’t let him walk away; fight for him. He was the first person that ever made you smile. You lit up a room when you were both in it. Don’t let that light go out. It’s your turn now to save him, like he saved you.
You were one of my biggest accomplishments in life. You mean the world to me, a sad lonely young woman who seemed to have no direction and yet found her way to me.
I believe in fate and I believe you were supposed to walk into my life, so Mason could walk into yours. I love you Lena, just as I love all my children.
Catherine
Lena folded the letter back up and wiped the tears from her cheek. Shaking her head and looking down at the grave beneath her feet she whispered softly, “How is it you’re still giving me the best advice? I love you, too.”
The next day Lena found herself standing in Shelly’s office.
“Okay, here’s the thing,” she said, crossing her arms as she stood in front of Shelly’s desk. “I don’t want to give up on him.”
Shelly sat back in her chair and tapped her fingers, narrowing her eyes as she studied Lena. “Just so we’re clear, we are referring to Mason?”
“Of course we’re referring to Mason. Who else?” Lena asked with an exasperated sigh.
Shelly held her hands up and smirked at her. “I was just checking, because remember, you outlawed the use of his name and anyone else’s name that was remotely related to him.”
“Very funny.” Lena sat down in the chair facing her friend, raising a hand to scratch her head. “I have no idea how to do this.”
“Lucky for you, you have me. And I know exactly how to do this.”
Lena shook her head, feeling her courage about to take a flying leap out the window. It was all very good and well to sit here and plot on how to get him back, but in reality, she knew she had no idea and no skills. After all, he was the first person she’d dated—for longer than three hours—in nine years. Looking at the amused and slightly evil grin on Shelly’s face, Lena really started to worry.
“Can I ask why the sudden change of heart?” Shelly questioned with a raised brow.
“Let’s just say a wise woman told me that I should fight for what I wanted.”
“And he’s what you want?”
Lena didn’t even think twice. “He’s exactly what I want.”
It had just turned eleven p.m. and Mason found himself sitting in the Blue Moon’s bar. The music was throbbing through the air and he felt it pulse through him in time with the throbbing in his head. Before Wendy had left the other day, he’d told her he would make an appearance at the restaurant, so he had for twenty minutes this evening. So what? She hadn’t specified how long he had to stay. So he’d put in his time and then made his way back to the club he’d been frequenting.
He was about four drinks into the night and feeling rather relaxed except for the headache that never seemed to disappear. He turned around on his stool and spotted a blonde looking him over. He watched as her eyes made their way up from his black boots to the worn-out jeans he was wearing, and then dragged over the silver buckled belt to crawl up his black button-down shirt. Finally, her eyes landed on his and she gave him a flirty smile and raised her hand to beckon him with a crook of her finger. He grinned back at her, picked up the glass of scotch, swallowed it down, and made his way over.
She was wearing a tight red strapless dress held up by a pair of breasts he could be smothered in, and it ended mid-thigh, showing off miles of skin. When he reached her she stepped forward and was about to say something but Mason didn’t want to hear it. He just wanted to lose himself in the throb of the music and the feel of the buxom blonde’s body. He didn’t care one little bit about what she wanted to say. So he held a finger up and placed it against her lips quickly. She seemed to get the message and smiled at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her in close, closing his eyes and picturing someone else.
Lena walked into Exquisite. Her eyes searched the main dining room looking for Mason. She couldn’t see him anywhere but she did spot Wendy behind the bar. Making her way through the crowded tables, she noticed the moment Wendy spotted her. She thought the lady looked a little tense, and she wasn’t the only one because she heard Shelly whisper, “Uh oh.”
“What do you think that’s about?”
“Dunno,” her friend answered, and took her hand. “Come on, let’s be brave.”
They made their way to the bar and stopped at the end, waiting for Wendy to come over to them. She finished serving a customer and then made her way over, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hey there, Lena.”
“Hey, Wendy. How’s it going?” Lena asked, genuinely concerned for the frazzled-looking lady. For as long as Lena had known her, Wendy had always been one of the most put-together women she knew and right now she looked like she needed to sleep for a few weeks.
“Honestly? Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Lena grimaced and shook her head, knowing this couldn’t be good. Looking around again, then back to the manager, she noticed Wendy was shaking her head.
“He isn’t here.” She paused, sighing. “He never is anymore.”
Tilting her head to the side, Lena was about to ask what she meant when Shelly jumped in.
“What do you mean? Where is he?”
 
; Wendy snorted and ran a hand through her hair. “Probably down at Blue Moon getting drunk. That’s his usual pattern these days.”
Lena looked at Shelly with a raised brow. “Blue Moon? What is that? A bar?”
Shelly shook her head and replied. “Nope. Dance club.”
Groaning, Lena shut her eyes for a moment. “A dance club? Ahh, I hate dancing.”
Wendy made a noise in front of her and Shelly looked at Lena with a smirk. “Why does it matter? You won’t get anywhere. He’s checked out for the moment. Trust me, I’ve tried.” She paused and then asked, “I didn’t think you two were talking. Has that changed?”
Lena shook her head and answered, “No. But it’s about to.”
The first thing Lena noticed was how dark it was inside the club. They’d been lined up for the last half hour waiting to get inside and now that they finally had paid and stepped in, the glare from the outside floodlights had faded and they were in a dimly lit, basement-like warehouse. There were people everywhere, from one wall to the other, and the music was pounding so loudly Lena could feel it pulsating through her whole body. She felt Shelly tug on her arm and she leaned in close to hear her say, “Let’s go over to the bar? Get something to drink and scan the floor.”
Nodding, she followed Shelly through the crowd. She was easy to keep track of, wearing a hot pink strapless tube dress. Lena noticed eyes from both men and women go up and down her friend, as she strutted through the crowds of people on her black spiked stilettos. Her hair was in a sleek blonde ponytail and Lena marveled over the effortless confidence she had. Squinting against the bright strobe lights that had begun flashing with the next song, Lena tried to scan the crowd, looking for anyone even remotely resembling Mason, but she came up with nothing. They stopped at the bar and Shelly ordered two tequila shots. Lena glanced at her friend quickly.
‘What?” she asked innocently. “Liquid courage. You’ll need it here.”
“Gee, thanks a lot,” Lena shouted over the music.
“Well, it’s true! You need to drink a little more and become sexually aggressive, a lot more than you usually are, you need to get that man back, and I know you hate dancing. Tonight, here,” she paused, looking around at the sweaty pulsing bodies, “you’ll need to do all three.”
Swallowing deeply, Lena nodded, agreeing with her friend and wondering how the hell she’d ended up here, and reached out to grab the drink. Tipping it up, she slammed it home and coughed once, screwing her nose up. “Oh, shit!”
Shelly burst out laughing, and then turned to face the crowd. Lena felt her friend freeze and her hand grip her wrist. “Lena. Over there.”
Lena turned her head in the direction Shelly was looking and froze. Under the flashing lights, she saw Mason amongst the sweaty gyrating bodies, pressed pelvis to pelvis with a blonde who was all over him like a second skin. His big hands were on the blonde’s ass, her hips were pulled in tight to his, and her arms were wrapped around his neck with her fingers running through his black hair. He had his eyes shut and was grinding his hips against the blonde’s like there was no clothing between the two of them and Lena wanted to walk over, grab the blonde’s hair, and yank her off him. However, he was doing just as much clinging—so maybe she could rip the blonde off him and then knee him in the balls. She grinned maliciously at that thought and then turned to Shelly, who had her eyes glued to the scene in front of them.
“Ahh, so,” Shelly said, and then looked over to Lena. “Now what?”
Lena narrowed her eyes and said in a soft voice that concealed all the pent-up emotions she was feeling, “Now I have a second shot of tequila.”
Mason had finally lost himself. It’d taken him around half a bottle of scotch and half an hour with Cindy, or was it Mindy? He couldn’t remember and didn’t care. She’d stopped talking and was clinging and rubbing all over him and that was what he wanted—no talking, just a sweaty, curvy body. The music was moving through him, his hips were working up a delicious friction in the notch between her thighs, and from the way she was moaning in his ear and gripping his hair, he decided she must like that his hard-on was pressing up against her. Sure, he wouldn’t do anything with her or his throbbing conscience, but it felt nice to think about it for the moment and not all the other bullshit in his life.
He opened his eyes as the music switched up and for a crazy second he was sure he saw Lena moving toward him. He blinked his eyes, figuring the combination of alcohol and the strobe lighting was playing tricks on him, but no, there she was again as the lights flickered and went dark. He shifted Cindy in his grip and she groaned, thinking he was moving their position when in fact he was just moving his, then he lost sight of the vision in the crowd. Shaking his head, he turned back to look down at Cindy. Her mouth was open and he noticed her eyes were dilated, all signs that she was one hundred percent turned on. Mason decided he needed another drink and get away from the blonde. He took a step back, reaching up behind his neck to grab her hands, and she blinked a few times at him.
“Let go, hon,” Mason told Cindy, trying to pull away graciously.
She smiled, what he figured she thought was a seductive smile, and said loudly over the music, “I can come with you.”
Shaking his head he replied, “No, it’s fine.”
She ran a palm down his chest, clutching his shirt and pulling him a bit closer. “Really. I’ll let you do whatever you like.”
He took her hand and pulled it off, shaking his head again—shit, couldn’t she take a hint? “Not interested.”
He watched her eyes narrow and he thought if it were possible, smoke would be coming out of her ears. His head was starting to swirl from the copious amount of alcohol he had consumed and he ran a tongue over his bottom lip, turned on his heel to make his way back to the bar, and that’s when he saw her. Standing right in front of him, like some kind of fucked up hallucination, was Lena. She was dressed in a strapless corset of deep burgundy that laced from her navel to between her breasts. Wrapped snugly around her hips was the smallest leather miniskirt he’d ever seen and on her feet was the most wicked pair of fuck-me boots ever designed. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and was long enough that he knew it fell down to the middle of her back and altogether the picture she made was a fucking sexy one.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lena had ordered another shot, downed it like a pro, and then decided it was time to go get her man. Smiling at her friend, Shelly gave her a thumbs-up and she moved onto the dance floor. Somewhere between leaving Exquisite and going home to dress for the club, Shelly had persuaded her to dress to kill. As she stood in front of Mason on the packed dance floor with people moving all around them, his eyes moved over her as though they were the hot stroke of his hand, and she was happy she’d gone with Shelly’s idea.
Spotting the little blonde move in behind him, Lena took a step forward and was about to say something when she noticed a hand clamp onto his wrist. Like a spell was broken, his eyes left her and moved to his arm. Turning slowly, he looked at the blonde and shook his head. Lena couldn’t hear what was being said—it was too loud in the club—but she did understand he was saying no and Blondie wasn’t taking it. So Lena moved in to stand behind him and reached out, for the first time in months, and voluntarily touched him. She ran a finger down his back, noticing his black shirt was damp to touch. She felt him stiffen and turn to face her. Lena smiled at him with the most seductive look she could muster, and then she looked around him and narrowed her eyes at the blonde.
“I’m cutting in.”
The blonde’s eyes glared at her through the flashing lights and Mason stood speechless between them.
“Who are you?” the blonde demanded.
Lena looked up at Mason and saw that his eyes were clouded over, she wasn’t sure whether from alcohol or lust, but she knew she now had his attention. Turning her eyes back to her adversary, she smirked. “Your replacement.”
The blonde looked to Mason, who didn’t even turn to look
back at her, and then turned angry eyes back to Lena. “Fuck you.”
Lena stepped in close to Mason, smelling the distinct scent of him, and peeked around his shoulder. “No thanks, you’re not my type.”
She abruptly felt a strong hand come up and grip her head underneath her ponytail.
“Who is?” she heard Mason demand over the throbbing beat of the music.
Lifting her eyes to him, Lena moved in so they were closer, and then rubbed a leg in between his thighs. “Right now? You.”
His free hand came up to rest on her hip and he gripped it tight and pulled her even closer.
“You’re drunk,” Lena whispered as she rocked her hips into his. He hissed and leaned his head down to hers. Knowing he was intending to kiss her, she moved her head to the side and felt him tense. Moving back, he gripped her tightly and glared down at her.
“So? What does it matter?”
Moving her hands around to his ass, Lena took a good handful and ground against him. She heard him groan and it rumbled right through her. “It doesn’t matter at all.”
Tipping her head back, she thrust her breasts into his chest, rubbing herself all over him, knowing she was driving him insane and pissing him off at the same time. He tried to lean in again and kiss her, but again she dodged him.
“Lena,” he growled narrowing his eyes.
Rocking her hips on his, she felt him move the hand from her neck down to rest on the other side of her hip. Blinking at him, reveling in the feel of him after all this time, she moaned a little and replied in kind.
“Mason.”
“Why are you here?” he asked in a strangled groan as she moved away and turned in his arms, rubbing her ass up against his hard-on. He gripped her hips again and she raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck, making her corseted breasts fully accessible if he wanted to touch. She felt his hands run from her hips to her stomach, and then those long fingers traced the lace holding her top together and came to a stop when they reached the knotted bow at the top. He fiddled with it as she rocked against him, then he dragged his palms up her arms and wrapped them around her wrists. Suddenly he pulled them down from behind his neck and turned her to face him, tugging her in so close she lost her footing. Her hands gripped his chest and he glared at her with eyes that were clearer, but now showed the anger as well as lust.