Mason's Run

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Mason's Run Page 35

by Mellanie Rourke


  My gaze flipped back and forth between Dowling and Mason, his words suddenly registering. The cop’s name was familiar, but I couldn’t place from where. I was busy trying to remember where I knew it from when his words finally registered.

  “Uber? What Uber?” I began, confusion washing through me. “Are you going somewhere?” Mason looked up at me and hesitated, I knew then that I wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say.

  “I… I have to go, Lee,” he said, eyes darting from Dowling to me.

  “What do you mean, go? Go where?” I demanded. What the hell was he talking about?

  “Home. Seattle.” There was something in his eyes, something he was trying to communicate without speaking, but I was too befuddled to understand it.

  “What? Why?” I demanded, my brain racing as he answered me.

  “Um, I had an, uh, emergency come up, and I—” it was so obvious he was lying that I couldn’t even let him finish it.

  “Seriously?” I demanded, my raised voice drawing attention from other people in the waiting room. Fuck, I didn’t need this right now. “You’re going to lie to my face? I have one brother in surgery, the other in the ICU. My parents’ hearts are breaking, and you’re going to fucking lie to me?”

  I saw my moms glance over at us as they talked to a baby-faced looking kid in a lab coat who had come in as we followed the police officer. I was too distracted by what was happening right in front of me to be concerned about their conversation.

  “Would you give us a minute, please?” Mason asked the officer through gritted teeth. Dowling’s grin looked like a shark’s, but he replied, “Sure thing, Mr. Cameron,” placing strange emphasis on Mason’s last name. “I’ll just step right over here. But you don’t have too long,” he said, tapping his watch, an edge of threat in his voice that made me bristle.

  Mason hustled us into one of the waiting areas where doctors came to tell families bad news. It wasn’t exactly private. There were windows on two sides that looked out across the waiting areas. I could see the officer’s bulk leaning by the door, his body casting a dark shadow as he watched us through the door. The officer moved to the doorway of the room, his eyes still focused on Mason and me. Mason’s gaze jumped back and forth between us, then he walked over and firmly shut the door to the room, blocking out Dowling. His gaze finally rested on me and I could see the pain and anguish hiding there. I just didn’t know what was causing it.

  “I’m sorry, Lee, but I have to leave. I can’t… I can’t handle all of this,” Mason said.

  “What? That’s bullshit,” I said. “What’s going on, Mason? You’ve been acting strange since yesterday.” Yesterday. When he was alone with strangers for several hours. And when he came home, he was in pain, limping, hardly able to walk… Fuck. How did he get hurt? What did they do to him?!

  “Mason,” I hissed, anger starting to build as I finally started to give voice to my fear. “Baby, did something else happen last night? Did they… Did they do something you didn’t tell me about last night? Did they hurt you? Is that why the cop is here? We can file a police report, get them arrested…”

  “No, Lee.” He said, as if reading the train of thoughts going through my brain. “No. This is my issue. Mine. I need to solve it.”

  “No, it’s not!” I said angrily. “You are not alone anymore, Mason. You have friends who care about you. I care about you. I…” I took a deep breath, then spoke. “I love you.”

  Mason froze in shock as I said the words that had been percolating in my brain for the last few days, and at first, I thought maybe I’d gotten through to him as I saw a small glimmer of hope in his eyes. Then we heard the shifting of the officer who appeared to be leaning against the room door and I saw Mason glance at it then back to me, and he shook his head.

  “I… No, you don’t love me, Lee,” he said tiredly. “You love being the hero and riding to everyone’s rescue. The thing in your life that almost broke you wasn’t the loss of Mack, it was the fact that you couldn’t save him. You weren’t able to be his hero.”

  “No, that’s not true,” I growled, struggling to control myself as I tried to understand why he would leave. God damn it. His comment was so off base, I didn’t even know how to respond to it. My heart was racing as I gathered the shreds of my temper. I saw a tremor pass through Mason as his gaze shot behind me to the door where the cop stood. Something wasn’t right here, but I couldn’t get the pieces to fall into place…

  “I know what you’re doing Mason, and it won’t work,” I said, leaning forward and gripping the table in front of me.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice a monotone.

  “You damn well know do know what I mean,” I said, slamming my fist on the table.

  His voice was neutral, and his face was blank as he stared straight ahead from where he sat in one of the chairs. His hair curled softly around his face as he avoided my gaze. His hands were gripping his knees, etching wrinkles into his jeans.

  “You’re pushing me away,” I said, walking to where he sat, I knelt down on the floor in front of him and gently covered his hands with my own. “You think you’re not good enough for me for some reason, and you’re pushing me away. But that’s bullshit, and I’m not going to let you.”

  His skin was shockingly cold, and his grip on his knees was so tight it was turning his knuckles white. Gently, I pried his fingers from their death grip on his knees, one finger at a time. He tried to pull his hand away from me and I simply stopped moving, my larger hands enveloping his until he stopped fighting me. I began gently chafing them with my hands, trying to transfer some of my warmth into him.

  He finally looked me in the eye, a crack appearing in the neutral façade he had been showing.

  “I am no good for you, Lee,” he whispered as I knelt in front of him. “I’m trash. I’m nothing but a whore, a son of a whore, who somehow convinced himself he had a shot at something different. You deserve better than this, better than me. If I stay, all I’m going to do is ruin your life, too.”

  I looked up at his gorgeous eyes, his thick dark lashes wet with the tears he’d been trying to hide from me. His eyes were pleading with me, struggling to convey some message I couldn’t quite understand.

  “The only way you could ruin my life is to leave it. Let’s make sure our definitions match here, Word Boy,” I said, his tears melting the rock-hard ball of ice that had substituted for my heart for so long.

  I brought one hand up and cupped the side of his face, gently running my thumb back and forth across his cheek as his hands rested gently at my waist.

  “If by ‘trash’ you mean ‘amazingly talented, heartrendingly compassionate, and mind-blowingly intelligent’, I can agree with your statement,” I murmured, pausing with each adjective to lay a series of gentle kisses across his forehead. “And if by ‘ruin’ you mean ‘bring back to life, renew, restore and revivify’…” We both chuckled at the last word, remembering our round of Scrabble. “…then I guess I’d agree with that, too. Otherwise, I think I need to challenge your definitions.”

  Tears were falling freely at that point, and I realized suddenly he wasn’t the only one crying. Mason’s hands tightened on my waist, his fingers sliding under my shirt until they were against my skin.

  I pulled him forward slowly, his eyes darting to my lips. I saw his lips part nervously and groaned as his pink tongue darted out to wet them. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him right then and there, but I had to get to the bottom of this.

  “Tell me what’s really going on, Mason. Are you in some kind of trouble? Why are you running?” I asked. I felt Mason tense under my touch, then he stood and pulled away from me, walking toward the door. I saw the cop’s shadow move against the glass and the movement seemed to have caught Mason’s attention, too.

  “I’m not running. Not anymore,” Mason insisted. “Would you rather I just say that I can’t handle the drama?” Mason snapped, a hint of anger in his voice as it rose slightly. His
hand made a sweeping gesture toward the waiting room where my family sprawled in various states of discomfort. “Would it be better to say that I’m scared shitless and don’t know how I could ever fit in with… with this?” he asked.

  “Should I just walk up to your parents and say, ‘Hey, I used to be a hooker, but I’ve got a great new career, so I hope you’re okay with it? And oh, by the way, I have this great story about how I met your son?’” Mason’s voice was getting louder and I could see curious heads turning toward the room. Mason noticed at the same time I did and dropped his voice, but still hissed, “How can I tell them that you killed someone for me? That you put your life in danger for a prostitute?! I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t know what you want from me, Lee,” he finished.

  I looked at him in disbelief. Could he really not know what I wanted? I had to show him then.

  “I want this,” I said, gripping his hand in mine and pulling it to my chest. “I want dinner with the fam. I want more days at the arcade. I want to find out what music you like and what your favorite food is. I want to know what you were like as a grade schooler, and what your fondest memories are. I want it all, Mason,” I said, my voice dropping. “I want… you. I love you. And if you say you don’t believe me, you’re lying to yourself.”

  “I… I’m not lying, Lee, to you or myself. I want it, too. I do,” he said, strain showing on his face as we spoke. “I want it, but we’re adults. We know that in this life, we don’t always get what we want.” His voice trailed off for a moment. Vaguely I heard the sound of a muffled cough through the door of the waiting room. Fuck, this guy was getting an earful.

  Mason’s face changed, went blank and expressionless. “You… you’re getting way too serious, way too fast. I care about you, Lee, but I’m not in love with you. I never will be. It would probably be best if we just broke everything off now. Some people… some people just don’t get the happily ever after. Some people just don’t deserve it. I’ve done things, Lee. Terrible things that I can’t bear to tell you, because part of me would die if you saw that side of me.”

  I was too stunned to say anything in response. He glanced up again at the shadow of the cop on the door behind me, but continued.

  “It’s like there’s this… this thing that hangs over me. A cloud of… of… suckitude, a cloud of misery, and it shoots off random bolts of catastrophe and I’m a lightning rod for it. I attract all that pain and suffering. I can deal with it when it’s just me getting hurt, but anyone near me… and I do mean anyone… could become a target just by being around me. You, your brothers, your parents, for god’s sake!” He gestured to the room of friends of family. “How can I stay here and put all these people in danger?”

  I stared into his eyes, trying to make sense of what he was saying. I obviously was missing part of the conversation here, because my brain wasn’t keeping up. Was he trying to tell me my family was in danger? I saw his mask soften for a moment.

  “You… you deserve to have happiness,” he continued determinedly. “Find a man, get a dog, maybe some kids down the road. You need to find someone who can be worthy of you. This has been a… a… a respite for me, Lee. A vacation from my real life. But that’s all it could ever be for me. My real life is back in… back in Mil—” he caught himself and corrected, “—back in Seattle.”

  My heart felt like it stopped at his words. He didn’t love me. He pulled away from my grasp. As his fingers slipped from my own, the pain in my chest was so sharp I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Mason,” I whispered, “Please don’t do this. Don’t run. I can’t lose you, too.”

  Shame, guilt, regret flashed across his face, followed by a solemn resolve.

  “I’m sorry, Lee.” he said, his voice dropping. “My Uber is here. I’m going to the airport now. I’ve got a flight out of here in an hour. I just… I’m sorry, Lee. I can’t stay. I can’t… endanger you, or your family, any further. Just ship anything I left at your place to Lizzie. She’ll get it to me.”

  I froze, my mind unable to comprehend. He was seriously leaving? Just like that? Now, of all times, when I needed him? When we needed him? I opened my mouth to argue further, but snapped it shut as Kaine walked in, past the cop.

  “Hey guys…” he paused, looking back and forth between us, sensing the tension in the room. “Everything okay? The doctor just came out. He said he thinks Sonny’s going to be okay. They think they were able to save his leg.”

  I sighed as a huge weight was lifted off my shoulder but as it left a band started tightening around my heart. Mason was leaving.

  “Good. That’s…I’m really glad, Kaine,” Mason said softly, his eyes drawing mine back in.

  “Thanks, Kaine,” I said, automatically. He nodded, casting a confused glance at the two of us, then left the room. Mason seemed relieved at Kaine’s news, but I couldn’t be sure. I mean, how could I tell? I thought he’d been feeling the same things I was feeling but I was obviously wrong. He couldn’t be leaving me now, like this, if he was. He’d thought this was all fun and games, just a goddamn vacation fling...

  “Take care of yourself, Lee.” He said softly, leaning forward and laying a gentle kiss on my cheek. He left the room, the cop close behind him as he walked down the hall, and out of my life.

  30

  Mason

  Walking away from Lee and his family was the single hardest thing I’d ever done, especially when all I wanted to do was cower in terror from the man in front of me.

  Of all the things I would have expected, Dreyven showing up at the hospital in a cop uniform was not one of them. The outfit looked legit, right down to the name tag that read “Sgt. Dowling.” Could he really be a cop? It made a twisted sort of sense, I thouhgt. Ricky had always had an in with cops wherever he went.

  Lee tried to stop me from leaving, of course. But I saw Dreyven’s hand tighten threateningly on the gun in his holster, and I knew I had to talk fast and get out of there before he hurt more people I cared about.

  So, the lies flowed from my lips, words like daggers designed to cut the bonds that Lee and I had been forming. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I would do anything to keep this man safe, including breaking his heart.

  As soon as we were out of sight of Lee’s family, Dreyven took a crushing grip on one arm, guaranteeing there was no escape. As we approached the parking lot, I saw a police cruiser ready and waiting. Guess he was legit. At least I didn’t have to worry about getting to the airport on time.

  The trip back to Seattle was a long, exhausting affair. We only had one layover, but bad weather had delayed the flight. It was over eighteen hours later when we pulled up in front of my apartment building. As Dreyven paid the driver, I struggled with my fears, trying to get my mind to figure out what I was going to do.

  Dreyven dismissed the driver and came back over to where I stood, stupidly lost in my exhaustion. He’d changed out of his uniform at the airport, switching to a pair of jeans and an obscene t-shirt. He’d had to leave his gun in the cruiser at the Akron airport when we parked, and when we arrived in Seattle he stopped at a post office to pick up a package, which included a pistol and ammunition. He didn’t really need it, though. We both knew he controlled me even without a weapon. I wouldn’t do anything to further threaten the lives of my friends.

  I entered the apartment complex and saw our normal security guard wasn’t in place at the front desk.

  “Hello there!” the middle-aged man said as we came in. “Something I can help you boys with?” he asked, his face friendly and open. His hair was an ash color, cut short and impeccably groomed. His eyes were a slate grey color that twinkled at us.

  “Um, no, I, uh, I live here,” I stammered. “You must be new.”

  He nodded.

  “Yup, name’s Jamison. Joe Wilson’s on vacation this week,” he explained. Joe was a sweet older man who didn’t really add much in the way of a security presence to the building, but always had a listening ear and a shoul
der to cry on when your troubles got to be too much. I’d spent many hours with him playing chess and checkers as he managed the front desk of the apartment building.

  “Joe doesn’t hardly ever take vacation,” I commented. “I hope he’s enjoying it.”

  “I believe so, sir!” he said, “I believe he’s visiting Tahiti. It’s a magical place. Have you ever been?” he asked.

  I barked a short laugh, thinking of Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. TV show, but Dreyven’s grip tightened on my arm until I winced. “Um, no. I’m Mason Cameron, 14B. This is— uh,” I looked at Dreyven, nausea swirling in my gut. “This is my… friend, John Dowling.”

  Dreyven reached his hand out and shook Jamison’s hand. Jamison’s gaze changed slightly as he eyed the grip that Dreyven had on my arm. It grew colder, more steel-like.

  “Everything okay there, son?” He asked, his gaze turning to me.

  “Mind your fuckin’ business, gramps,” Dreyven said harshly, pushing us toward the elevators. “He had too much to drink on the plane.”

  I stumbled at the shove Dreyven gave me into the elevator, but managed to keep from falling. We got off on the fourteenth floor. I'd been sharing an apartment with Lizzie for the last few years, but she was living with Everett now.

  As we got to the door of the one place that had been my sanctuary, my only safe place in the world, I sighed. Dreyven took the apartment key away from me and unlocked the door, slamming the door open.

  “Not bad, Mason, not bad at all,” he said, looking around the apartment. “Home sweet home…”

  I tried to see it through his eyes. It was modern, clean and had lots of windows that looked out over the city. It was an open floor plan with hardwood floors everywhere. Beneath us, lights flickered as the late-night traffic wended its way between the downtown streets. There was an electric fireplace on one wall and my drawing studio against another.

 

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