by Ellie Danes
“He shouldn’t have come here.” I talked to myself as I squatted behind the stack of beer boxes and kegs in the corner, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. All he did was lie to me, this whole time.”
Hot tears leaked from my eyes. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, as if all the wind had been knocked out of me by his unexpected visit.
Why had he come here? Had he honestly thought that saying a half-hearted apology would make everything better, after he had lied so much to me? “I don’t need him, I don’t.”
You do.
I shook myself out of my thoughts. I didn’t need Mason any more than I needed Jake or any other liar I had ever dated. It was all nonsense; they had all pretended it was a game, some sort of test for me. But Mason had hurt me the most. It had cut the deepest because for once in my life, I thought someone actually cared enough to be honest with me. His entire demeanor had seemed so honest and so good that I hadn’t doubted one word he said, even as my logic had told me otherwise. Not to mention Avery, who had been skeptical from the start.
Maybe I really am just terrible at finding good men.
“Harper, what the hell?” One of the older waitresses, Cindy, came in. I wiped the tears off my cheeks, sniffling a little. “We need you out front. There’s a huge crowd out there now.”
“Sorry, I’ll be there in a second.”
I caught a glimpse of myself in the polished stainless steel door and I realized I looked almost nearly as bad as Mason had. My hair hung in a limp ponytail and my eyes had dark circles beneath them, in part because of tiredness, but also because my makeup had smeared a little from the tears. The thing that disturbed me the most was the emptiness—my face looked vacant, void of all emotion. I blinked away tears at that thought and walked into the stuffy bar.
Miles gave me a smile as I leaned against the bar and stared at the floor, catching a glimpse of the white envelope protruding from my apron. I opened it and stared at the wad of money, my payment for a job that I hadn’t even completed. I tugged the crisp bills out of the envelope, turning so people wouldn’t see what I had. I counted them out, my mind too frazzled to even begin to realize how much there was as hundred after hundred appeared.
A folded white slip of paper fell to the ground. I shoved the cash in my front pocket, kneeling down to grab the paper.
I’m sorry. I love you. –M
I could feel a few tears escape from my eyes. I wiped them away instantly, straightening and crumbling the paper in my fingers, stuffing it into my pocket with the money.
Inside the bar had grown chaotic, as people began to gravitate toward the big windows at the front of the building. Flashes of blue and red worked their way into the room like weird disco lights. Sirens followed, loud even from inside the bar.
“What’s going on out there?” Miles hollered to the crowd gathered near the large window.
“The world’s going to shit, that’s what.” A patron, a regular, sat down at the bar, shrugging out of his coat. “Get me a Bud, Miles, would you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes and trying to see over the heads of the curious customers.
“Can’t even walk down the street these days without somebody going for your goddam throat. Fuck that.”
Miles handed the man a beer, his calm voice breaking in. “Now, Joe, what the heck are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. When I walked in, some guy was lying on the ground next to some fancy car.”
“A guy?” My voice sounded hollow in my ears as I stopped trying to look out the window, staring at the patron in what I knew must have seemed like desperation. “Oh my God... What did he look like?”
“Bloody.” Joe laughed half-heartedly, taking a hearty swig of his beer. “Probably some hoodlum wanted that fancy car or something. Damn kids. I don’t feel safe walking in my own city, anymore. Back in the day...”
Joe’s words faded from my attention. A fancy car? Surely there were plenty of those around in the city. But right outside the bar? My heart sank into my stomach. I reached into my pocket and rubbed the paper Mason had given me just minutes before; the paper that held the words I had wanted to hear from someone for so long.
Mason, where the hell are you now? I wondered. I hadn’t seen where he had come in, or where he had left from.
Reaching into my back pocket and pulling out my phone, I stared at the screen. Nothing from Mason. My heart sank further into my stomach. I did have one missed text from a number I didn’t recognize.
Jake is mine, not yours. Tell him to get his fucking ass back home.
What the…? Jake wasn’t with me. Why would whoever this was think he was with me?
I tapped on my phone, contemplating whether to call Mason, and then decided against it. He could take care of himself. I was sure he was fine.
Chapter Two
Mason
The world was red. I blinked a couple times, forcing my heavy eyes open. A bright light overcame my gaze, driving out the red with pain.
Ringing sirens pervaded the background of my thoughts. I felt whatever I was laying on give a jolt, and heard a following honk from what was presumably a vehicle outside.
“Mr. Asher? You hear me? How are you feeling, Mr. Asher? Can you talk?”
The voice was loud, speaking to me like I was a child. My eyes darted around the little space as a bright light flashed in my eyes. I could feel the pressure of someone’s hands on my face, in my eyes, pulling my eyelids open.
The strong light moved away from my gaze and was instead replaced with the face of a young man in an EMT uniform.
I tried moving my tongue, tasting iron from what must have been blood. I could feel the collar around my neck, my head strapped down. I wanted to move. I wanted to get up. But I couldn’t.
“Sir, try not move. We need to assess your injuries.” The young voice barked orders at another EMT sitting out of my view.
I could feel adrenaline seeping through my chest. I remembered leaving Lucky’s, that stinky bar I had walked out of just moments before the lights went out. Then pain. Lots of pain.
That piece of shit. Jake. Fucking coward. Jake had done this to me. I didn’t know how I knew, but I just did. As I tried to get up, the IV in my arm pinched at my skin. And the straps holding me down failed to give, of course.
“No, don’t move, it’s okay,” another voice broke in, and two strong hands forced my shoulders back. “Is there someone we can call? Do you have someone we can call for you?”
I closed my eyes, trying to keep the small room from spinning.
“We’re going to the hospital, sir. Anyone we can call for you to get some information?”
Harper. No, I remembered. Harper didn’t want me anymore. She didn’t love me. She wouldn’t even care that I was here.
I had spoken to Harper just minutes before walking out to my car. I couldn’t forget the look on her face as she had told me to leave her alone.
My mind went blank suddenly—number, I needed a number to give them.
“Natalie...” I muttered, feeling the cut up inside of my cheeks throb. “Her number...”
I couldn’t remember if I told them the number or not. My eyes closed involuntarily, and I embraced the darkness once more.
* * * *
The red had finally faded from my vision, replaced with the refreshing sight of Natalie’s purple hair. Her voice was the first thing I heard. “But he’ll be okay?”
Another voice replied. “He’s got a concussion. He was hit pretty hard. Some sort of blunt weapon. He’s lucky to be alive.”
Blunt weapon. Jake wasn’t man enough to use his fists. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my head whirl again as the conversation continued. My ears roared, only allowing me to catch parts of the dialogue.
“Oh my God...”
“Twenty stitches...”
“Who...”
“Mr. Asher.”
I opened my eyes again. A un
iformed state cop stood towering over me, and I had to squint against the fluorescent lights, barely able to make out the details of the cop’s face. My mind felt like mush. I wiggled my arm. The IV was still there.
“Mr. Asher, my name is Officer O’Ryan. Any idea what happened to you tonight, sir? Any idea who may have done this to you, or what they wanted? Both your car and wallet were untouched, so we don’t believe this was a robbery.”
I opened my mouth, and then closed it. Did I really know for sure Jake had done this? I wanted to believe I did, but in truth, everything felt a little fuzzy. I tried to think back, but all I could remember was the blackness; the comforting blackness after what had been a really shitty day. I wanted to blame Jake, but I wondered if that had simply been my mind telling me that so I could think more about Harper.
Harper. I wanted her to be here. I wanted to hold her in my arms again. But I’d never get that chance. I glanced back up at O’Ryan. “Sorry, Officer. I’m really fuzzy on what happened. All I know is that I was hit in the head and it hurt like hell.”
The cop’s mouth screwed up into a tight, sympathetic smile. “Well, that’s understandable. If you remember anything, though, I want you to call the station right away. Sound good?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
O’Ryan hesitated before leaving, looking at me curiously. “You don’t have any enemies around these parts, do you, sir?”
I pictured Jake in his hoodie, hiding behind a car, waiting for me. But as far as I knew, Jake had gone away for good. And Harper, I guess… Harper was an enemy now, too, of a different sort entirely. I shook my head, instantly regretting the movement as my vision swam. “Not as far as I know.”
“We get these type of cases quite often with people from your neighborhood—are you sure there’s—”
“It’s time to go home,” Natalie interrupted, moving toward me.
“Home.” I sighed.
O’Ryan took in Natalie’s determined face, and nodded to me. “Remember, Mr. Asher. Anything, any memory that pops up, you let us know. Here’s my card.” He handed Natalie a small business card. She pocketed it with a tight smile, her eyes not leaving mine.
A nurse wheeled me out to Natalie’s car. I settled into the comfortable leather seats, resting my sore head up against the back. Now that the heavier pain meds were beginning to wear off, my entire head had begun to throb.
“I’m really glad we got you this car,” I told Natalie as she climbed in, starting the engine.
She looked over at me and bit her lip.
“Nat, don’t.”
She dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her coat. “Asher, I don’t think you realize what a scare you gave me.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to get clunked on the head by some...” I told you this wasn’t over. I blinked.
“Asher?”
I blinked again. The hot breath on my neck. That voice. I told you this wasn’t over. It kept replaying in my head.
“It was Jake,” I mumbled.
“What?” Natalie stopped at a stoplight and turned toward me. “Jake? Who is Jake?”
“Harper’s ex-boyfriend. I think he’s the one who did this.”
Natalie fumbled in her purse. “Let me find my cellphone. You need to tell the police.”
“No.” I grabbed her wrist, wanting to shake my head to emphasize my point, but refraining. “No, I’ll handle it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I didn’t answer. The light turned green and I grabbed onto the seat. “I feel dizzy.”
“The doctor said you might for the next couple of days. Asher, what the hell were you doing down this way, anyway?”
“I had to see Harper.”
“So you tracked her all the way down here?”
I shrugged, regretting the movement just as I had when I’d shaken my head. “No, Avery told me.”
“So, this is all Harper’s fault.”
“No, it’s my own damn fault. I’m the one who fucked everything up.” Her phone began to ring, the sound piercing my eardrums and making me grit my teeth. “Answer that, would you?”
“Does it hurt your head?” She reached into her purse again, finding her phone. “It’s Harper again. She keeps calling me, leaving messages. Says she’s worried about you.”
I scoffed, finding it awfully funny that Harper cared now, now that she had probably heard about what had happened. Just minutes earlier she hadn’t even wanted anything to do with me. Maybe she thought I was near death, or something.
I remembered then that Harper wasn’t to blame for our relationship problems. I had been the one who lied, the one who had deceived her.
“I’ll call her later, once my head clears,” I said, speaking more to myself than to Natalie.
Chapter Three
Harper
As soon as my shift ended, I tugged on my coat and mustered up the courage to go outside.
The area was still swamped with police and curious onlookers as I walked past. Several police cruisers were parked down the street, blocking it off to oncoming and outgoing traffic. I could see that a large chunk of the adjacent parking lot had been blocked off with yellow police tape. Don’t look over there, I thought, trying to keep focused on what was straight ahead of me.
Don’t look for his car, I told myself as my eyes wandered toward the street, wanting to search for Mason’s BMW.
Suddenly I found myself looking into the lot, my body refusing to listen to my more logical mind. The center of the lot was blocked off and was surrounded by uniformed cops and people who looked like detectives. They were all gathered around something, and I could feel my feet slowing, wanting to creep closer to find out if Mason’s blood was what they were looking at.
I tasted bile in my throat as my eyes wandered to the road. Mason’s dark BMW sat parked at a meter, right in front of Lucky’s. I stumbled to the trashcan just in time, throwing up into it, gripping the greasy rim with my trembling fingers. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, my nose and throat burning.
I felt for my phone, whipping it out and finding Natalie’s phone number.
Her voicemail picked up, again. I had tried calling several times from inside the bar. She hadn’t answered then, either.
“Natalie, this is Harper. Again. I was wondering if you knew where Mason—uh, Asher, is. Please, please, give me a call back.”
I hung up the phone, scrolling to my texts, finding the one about Jake. The number had to have been Stacey’s. My fingers hovered over the keys, debating whether I should text her back, but I didn’t want to aggravate the situation more, so decided against it.
The paper Mason had given me was still in my pocket. I took it out, re-reading it.
I’m sorry. I love you.
Tears filled my eyes at the sight of it. He had come to the bar hoping to regain my trust, but I had pushed him away. Had I done the right thing? What about now, now that Mason could very well be out of my life forever? Was I happy now, any happier than I had been?
And what if now it was too late for anything to happen, anyway?
I glanced over at the cops keeping watch over the blocked off area. A news van had parked a little ways down the road. Obviously a slow news night. I cringed at the thought of hearing the details on the television.
I needed to know for myself. I needed to reach Mason or Natalie.
This isn’t over. That’s what Jake had said the day Mason had scared him away from my apartment. Is this what he had meant? Had he been trying to kill Mason, giving Stacey his alibi of wanting to see me? I glanced around, suddenly feeling watched. If Jake had really done this... I shivered as the breeze picked up a little.
I checked my phone again. Nothing. My fingers hovered over Mason’s name, but I decided against calling him.
I needed to see him, to make sure he was okay.
* * * *
When I arrived at the mansion, it was late. The building was lit up as usual, looking ready for a mixer, but only a few
cars were in the driveway. I felt disgusting, still wearing my greasy, smelly clothes from the bar. My hands shook as I brought my fist up to the door, pounding on it, hoping someone would hear.
No one answered. I turned around, sagging against the door, defeated. Where was everyone? Hunter, Natalie? And most of all, where was Mason? I checked my phone again, nothing. The backs of my eyes had begun to hurt from the strain, and I closed them, wishing I could get away from this nightmare completely just by knowing that Mason was safe and well.
The door opened as I stumbled backward, losing my balance and then catching myself.
“Natalie.”
Natalie’s eyes looked puffy and tired. She stared down at me coldly. “Harper. Can I help you?”
“Haven’t you gotten any of my calls?” I blurted out.
“I haven’t been around my phone much.” She said wearily.
“Mason—Asher,” I stumbled over my words, not knowing what to call him. “Where is he? Please, tell me he’s okay?”
“I—” Natalie hesitated. I froze, waiting for her answer.
“Please, Natalie,” I begged, feeling the desperation creep into my voice.
“Asher is okay. He will be, at least.”
My vision spun as relief flooded through me. “What happened?”
“He got hit in the head. Really hard.”
“But... By who?”
She glared at me, the lights of the mansion reflecting off her intense stare. “I don’t know. He went to visit you. You tell me.”
I stiffened a little. “Are you trying to say this is my fault?”
“You take it how you want to take it.”
I slumped, thinking as I looked down at the ground. Maybe I was to blame for this entire thing. If Jake really had done this to Mason, it had been my fault in the first place for ever letting the two interact. And, if Mason hadn’t been trying to win me back at the bar, he wouldn’t have been there at all.
“Does... Does he know who did this to him?”
“He can’t remember. He’s got a concussion. We’ll talk to you later, Harper.” Natalie began to close the door. I pressed my palm up against it, holding it open.
