Mason

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “Excuse me?’’

  “Yeah, excuse you. Did you really think I’d let you pay for your own breakfast?’’

  “Mason, you didn’t exactly mention anything to me or even ask me what I even wanted to eat. I’m not a fucking mind reader.’’

  “And that’s my queue to leave,’’ Malik mumbles walking off.

  “I shouldn’t have to,’’ he says completely ignoring Malik. “You’re my woman and I asked you to come. Now let’s go sit down. I’ve ordered you a large tea and a full English breakfast. I made sure there wasn’t anything you couldn’t eat on there.’’

  I stand still for a moment, not following him, I’m too shocked. Was that an argument? If so, who won? Because to me it sounded like I just got bossed about and treated like a dog.

  “I’m not a fucking dog. I’m not going to heel because you said sit,’’ I snap, feeling my blood pressure rising.

  “I didn’t treat you like a fucking dog, Denny,’’ he groans running his fingers through his dark hair. His muscles bulge as he does it and my mouth waters and I can’t help but ogle the way he flexes, or notice the way the tension has risen in the past few minutes. “You finished?’’ He says throwing my earlier question back at me.

  I slyly grin up at him, moving forward just an inch before leaning up to whisper in his ear. I nearly forget what I was going to do when I feel his large, warm hands going to my hips. The sensation sends tingles through the material of the dress and has me sway unsteadily on my feet.

  Remembering what I was doing I move my lips closer to his ear, so they lightly touch before talking. “No, because your clothes are in the way.’’ My voice is husky and not at all how I usually sound, it’s shocking even to me. To be honest I hadn’t expected that to come out of my mouth, I was going to say something sexy, but nothing came to mind.

  My face is flushed when I pull back, my lips lightly skimming his jaw. His eyes are hooded as we stare at each other, both of us breathing like we’ve just been running a marathon.

  “I wouldn’t bother Denny, he always wins staring competitions,’’ Max hoots from the table making me jump. He obviously didn’t catch the tension burning between us, or if he did, he interrupted to piss his brother off for the second time today.

  I quickly rush over to the table, pissed when I have to squeeze in behind one of the chairs because of the man on it wouldn’t push his seat forward for me. My stomach nearly touches him when Mason walks up beside me and pushes the man’s chair in for him.

  “Thanks,’’ I smile, ignoring the man when he protests since he clearly just ignored me. When I look down at him he’s glaring up at me, his face bright red, and his moustache covered in either beans or tomato sauce. My guess… could be both. The jury is still out.

  “Oh and you’re going to pay for that little tease back there,’’ he whispers down to my ear making me blush. I quickly move to our table to get away, gutted when I find the only other empty seats are the ones next to each other. Myles grins at me when he notices my displeasure and I know he has something to do with it. I give him the glare that says ‘shut it’ which only makes him laugh harder.

  I’m not halfway through my food when my belly starts to tighten. Brushing it off as nerves I take a sip of the orange juice that I got Mason to buy for me.

  Seconds later I’m on my feet with my hands covering my mouth rushing to the toilets at the far end corner.

  Trust us to be sitting the furthest away!

  I’m not even in the loo before I’m throwing up my breakfast. I whimper feeling uncomfortable from not only being sick in a public place, but kneeling down on my freaking bare knees in a public toilet.

  Gross!

  “Denny… Are you okay?’’ Harlow calls and I ignore her, not being able to stop the horrid retching.

  What sounds like a scuffle soon turns into arguing on the other side of the door and I hope to God that they aren’t complaining about me. I’m pretty sure the shop next door could hear me throwing up, so I hate to think I’m putting people off their food. Especially after seeing the price for a small breakfast when we walked in.

  “Fuck off!’’ is all I hear before another door is slammed shut. “Denny…Babe, is everything okay?’’ Mason’s worried voice comes from the other side of the door. I inwardly cringe at him hearing me like this. Not really attractive.

  I groan not able to speak as the heaving stops. I rest my head in my hands, my elbows resting on the dingy toilet seat.

  “Can you let me in please? I need to see you. Do we need to go to the hospital?’’

  I wipe my mouth with the tissue, well tissue paper, wincing at how painful it is against my skin before flushing the toilet. I reluctantly open the cubicle door and wince seeing his worried, concerned expression.

  He braces me in his arms, hugging the life out of me, and I have to catch my breath. “Oxygen is becoming an issue here, Mason,’’ I growl, hoping to Christ I don’t smell like vomit.

  “Are you okay?’’ he asks looking me up and down like I had just fallen over and not thrown up everything my stomach was storing.

  “Yeah. It’s normal to get sickness during pregnancy. I had it a lot when I moved in with my Nan and a little before, but I haven’t had it since,’’ I shrug moving out of his embrace so I can swill my mouth out in the sink. I look at the dirty, rusty sink and nearly pass swilling my mouth out, but then Mason produces a bottle of water and I sigh with relief.

  “Use this, not the tap water. I asked Myles to get it for you,’’ he smiles sheepishly, and my eyes soften towards him. He’s so incredibly sweet, it’s like he’s a brand new person.

  “Thank you,’’ I croak out, feeling embarrassed as I swirl my mouth out before taking a large swig of the refreshing cool water.

  “You really should have sipped that,’’ he winces.

  “It’s okay,’’ I giggle, feeling like I could easily go back to sleep.

  “Look, I’m going to go talk to the lawyer. Why don’t you go sit in the car until I get back.’’

  “What? Why? I’ve got to be in there in… Shit! I need to be there in ten minutes,’’ I squeak, rushing towards the door, but a large arm goes around my waist, under my belly pulling me back.

  “You can’t stand up in court when you look like you’re about to pass out, Denny. You need to go home and rest.’’

  “I’m bloody doing no such thing you idiot. I’m going. I’m fine. I was just sick which is normal during pregnancy, Mason. I’ll go home to sleep after. Don’t make me use your brothers against you,’’ I warn him and see his lips twitch.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea though. You’ve just been sick,’’ he points out.

  “I know, I was there,’’ I tell him, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

  “Christ!’’ is all he says before opening the door to four worried looking faces. “Oh and before anyone says anything, not my idea.’’

  “What happened to your eye?’’ I gasp when I see Max’s black eye.

  “Walked into a door,’’ he whispers looking like a lost puppy. Malik, Myles and Mason all look over to him with shocked faces. My arms reach out to touch him, but he flinches like I’m about to hit him. Harlow giggles from the left of me and I give her a glare.

  “It’s not funny. Who hurt you Max?’’ I urge, wondering why his brothers haven’t kicked their asses.

  “Mason,’’ he squeaks out, his eyes wide and full of fear.

  I turn so quickly, pointing my finger hard into Mason’s chest. “You say you’re sorry to your brother right now, Mason. You can’t go around hitting people for no good reason,’’ I snap, shoving my finger at him again.

  “Trust me; there was a reason,’’ Malik mumbles amused.

  Ignoring him my head turns back to Mason, giving him a warning glare. “Now!’’ I shout loudly causing a few customers to turn our way.

  “I’m not fucking saying sorry to him,’’ He growls, sending Max glares over my head. He steps forward as if to attack
Max again and I hold my hand out to stop him. I turn around to take Max to get some ice when I catch him grinning smugly at Mason. He soon loses it when he sees me looking.

  “It really does hurt Mase, you should say you’re sorry,’’ he whimpers.

  Knowing I’m being played for a fool, I play along walking over to Max. “Oh dear Max, we should get this looked at,’’ I tell him sympathetically. He gives me a sad pout which would have been so believable had he not been grinning smugly two minutes ago. “Let’s take a look,’’ I say and he leans his head down for me to look at his eye, that’s when I notice his eyes roam to my chest. I poke hard over the forming bruise and grin smugly when he howls in pain.

  “What was that for?’’ he cries.

  “One for trying to make me look like a fucking idiot, second, for doing something to piss Mason off and three, for looking down my dress at my tits,’’ I growl.

  “You looked at her tits,’’ Mason snaps, the front of his body pressing against my back.

  “Oh no you don’t, Rambo, let’s get to court. We’re going to be late.’’

  “Holy shit! Malik we’re going to be late. That’s not going to look good if we’re late,’’ Harlow cries, rushing over to grab our bags.

  We all head out of the cafe and make our way to the court house. When we reach the courts, all of a sudden the sickness feeling swarms my belly again and I know for a fact I’m not going to get through this day without emptying my stomach again.

  Great!

  It didn’t take me long to go talk through what I’m supposed to say in the court room with Harlow’s lawyer. Not that he needed to remind me, or prep me. I’d never be able to forget what a jerk Davis was to her.

  “Denny Smith, please make your way to court room one,’’ a woman’s voice calls over the intercom. All witnesses have been put in a separate room, so I won’t be able to see Harlow or anyone until after I give my statement.

  Mason argued with the lawyer to make an exception, telling him about me being sick and really shouldn’t be alone, but the lawyer was having none of it.

  Standing up on shaky legs I make my way to the door where the security personnel bloke is waiting for me.

  “Follow me Miss,’’ he says and I follow him to court room one, my face heating because of the nerves pumping through my body. My heart is beating so fast I’m afraid it’s going to burst. It only escalates when I see Davis sitting in the defendant box making my skin crawl.

  After finding out why the court has been adjourned so many times, all I want to do is scream at him.

  He’s telling the courts he’s not guilty, that the bodily assault on Harlow was caused by Malik when he found them about to sleep together. And that Harlow is trying to say it was him to protect Malik or some bullshit. He’s also got an answer to why I got hit over the head. Apparently I must have fainted and hit my head. I think I’d have known if I had fainted.

  “Will the accused please rise,’’ the judge calls and I watch from the witness stand as Davis stands up, his eyes narrowing in on me. Ignoring him, I turn my head making sure to look directly at the judge when addressed, just like Harlow’s lawyer told me to.

  They go through the motions where I have to take an oath, swearing to the almighty God to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  As soon as the oath has left my mouth they begin. Davis’s team wastes no time asking any questions, not that I thought we were going to have biscuits and tea beforehand. I just presumed they wouldn’t be so aggressive; he’s the guilty after all.

  “What would you say Mr. Davis and Miss. Evans relationship was like Miss Smith?’’

  Huh? He’s been asking me the stupidest questions for the past fifteen minutes, but this one just takes the biscuit.

  “I’m not sure I understand the question. They’ve never had a relationship of any sort. Not unless you count him bullying her as one,’’ I shrug, finding it hard to look at the judge when I speak. I’ve had it drummed into me since I was a kid to always address the person you’re talking to, but instead, today, I have to listen to the lawyer question me, but give my answer to the judge and jury.

  “So they weren’t intimate on any level? Miss. Evans didn’t move on the first day of school because Mr. Davis told her to after she tried to ‘feel him up’,’’ he says, as he reads from off the piece of paper in front of him.

  “No, that is not what happened. Harlow was new, she had just started and when she sat by him he made her feel uncomfortable.’’

  “Uncomfortable how?’’

  “He smelled badly, he hadn’t showered and had been doing drugs the night before. When he tried it on with her, she moved seats, from there on out he continued…’’

  “That’s all we need,’’ he says holding his hand up interrupting me, and it’s not the first time he’s done that either.

  Rude!

  “Last question on the matter before I move on, how did he ‘try it on with her,’ as you put it?’’

  “I’m not sure, I wasn’t sitting next to them.’’ I’m beginning to feel frustrated, especially when the smug fucker looks pleased with my answer, and looking over to Davis, he does too.

  “So you weren’t close enough to hear what was going on?’’

  “No, I sit on the other end of the classroom,’’ wondering what this has to do with anything.

  “So Miss. Evans could have easily have tried it on with Mr. Davis and then felt embarrassed when he kindly rejected her, so she ended up twisting the story.’’

  “From my point of view of the room, I guess you could make that up, but there are plenty of other students in there that day who heard clear as day what was said and what happened, so my opinion is irrelevant.’’

  “I see,’’ he says, looking none too happy about my answer. “The night you were found unconscious, Miss Smith, can you tell us what happened?’’

  “Harlow and I went to the bathroom. I became sick,’’ I tell them, rubbing my rounded stomach in a soothing gesture. “So we went outside to get some fresh air. When we did Harlow started to complain about feeling funny. When I turned to help, something hard hit me around the head.’’

  “So you didn’t see anyone approach?’’

  I shake my head ‘no’ really wanting to get out of here, my eyes are becoming tired, my feet are killing, and I can feel myself being sick again with the way this lawyer is digging at me.

  “So you could have fallen and hit your head when you fainted?’’

  “I never fainted. I felt fine other than I had just been sick. I felt whatever it was they used to hit me with to knock me out. I assure you I never passed out.’’

  “I have no further questions your honour,’’ he says, sitting back down in the seat. Harlow’s lawyer smiles at me encouragingly.

  He continues to ask me similar questions as the other lawyer and by the end of it all I’m exhausted and hungry, which doesn’t surprise me after throwing up all of my breakfast this morning.

  Hoping to get it all dealt with today I’m angry when the judge adjourns the hearing, asking us to come back in two days.

  Walking outside to the others they all rush over to me, bombarding me with a million and one questions.

  “They were ruthless. I honestly have never wanted to punch someone so much in my life. Your lawyer said not to take it to heart, but I couldn’t help not to when they were making me feel like the accused,’’ I growl.

  “Oh God,’’ Harlow frowns, looking worried as hell. “I don’t think I can do this. Richard told me about the statement Davis had given to the police and I can’t believe he even thought up something like that.’’

  “I know right, he has answers for everything, even for the first day in class when you moved away,’’ I tell her, hoping I’m allowed to talk about this with her.

  “Come on; let’s go get a drink and some food. It’s been a long day,’’ Mason butts in the same time Malik walks up to Harlow and places his arms around her front.
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  “I’ve spoken to Richard; he said you can do a video link to give your testimony if you’re that worried. You won’t have to see Davis. They’ll see you, but you won’t see them, you’ll only hear the questions.’’

  “That sounds like a good idea,’’ I tell her, wishing they offered that to me.

  “I dunno. I’ll think about it. The thought of him watching me, and not seeing his reaction or what he does creeps me out. I don’t know why. Why can’t they just take him out of the room?’’ she whines as we make our way outside the door, nearly bumping into a group of people.

  Mason stiffens and I look over his shoulder to see Davis’s older brother, the one in a gang, Carl, staring holes into us. Harlow doesn’t know who they are, which I’m grateful for and I’m about to do a victory dance that he or his family didn’t make a scene when he speaks up.

  “Put your lying fucking slut on a lead Malik,’’ he shouts. Malik turns, his glare deadly as he stares down Carl.

  “What the fuck did you just call her?’’ Malik thunders, stepping forward, but Max, Myles and Mason step closer to him.

  “You heard me. My brothers in there looking to do some serious fucking time, all for a bitch who can’t keep her legs closed.’’

  “Keep telling yourself that Cam,’’ Max sneers before Malik can open his mouth.

  “It’s Carl,’’ Carl snaps, shooting daggers at Max.

  “Like I care. You could be named Carlie and I wouldn’t give a fuck. What you need to worry about is buying shower gel for your brother. Soap won’t be good for a rapist in prison,’’ he snarls and Carl takes a step toward him when two security guards walk out, telling us to move on.

  We listen, but the tension is still thick in the air and I’m glad when Myles suggests we go back to Wellingborough where my brother lives to find somewhere to eat.

  Today has been long, and I can’t wait to get back home, showered and into bed. I’m so freaking tired I reckon I’ll fall asleep eating my food.

  Chapter Eight

  A banging noise in the distance wakes me up from my deep slumber. Still feeling tired I lay there listening, my head going over the previous day’s events.