Mason then stood up, towering over me. I looked and saw the massive bulge of his cock. I reached for him, but he stepped back out of my reach.
“You better fix yourself up,” he said. “And head back to your boyfriend.”
I gritted my teeth. Between my legs, I was a mess. It wasn’t even funny what Mason had unleashed in me. I was still throbbing, the deepest part of my core pulsing. My body ached for him. Ached to be kissed, touched, thrown around the bed.
“Mason…”
He turned and left the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
I sat there, trying to calm myself down.
What the fuck had just happened?
I looked at the closed door.
I knew what had just happened.
I had just fallen in love with Mason again.
Mason stood behind the counter with another beer. His eyes were smoldering with need as he devoured me with his eyes. I would have just let him take me right then and there. There was no shame in it. And somewhere in my heart, I had myself convinced that there was no wrong in it either. I didn’t love Davis. I just fell into the situation with him. And it did need to end. I had been caught up in other things in life…
“Now what?” Mason asked. “You want to pester me about my past again?”
I looked right at Mason. I took in everything that had happened between us. Not just his breath making me orgasm, but everything beyond that. The apartment. Us. Davis. His wife. Everything.
He really thought I left him to hurt him. Whatever Kate had done to him had really stuck. And I still didn’t know the whole story about Kate.
For as much of an asshole as Mason was, he wasn’t all about himself.
So, I threw the curveball that I knew would get his attention for good.
“Dad has cancer,” I blurted out.
“What?”
“My father…”
“Hank has cancer?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Yeah. Kidney.”
“How…I mean…he hurt his wrist…”
“They found cancer. He’s going through treatment right now.”
“How’s he feeling?”
“You know him. He’s stubborn. He won’t admit when he’s not feeling good. But the treatments have their way. It’s been hard.”
“How’s your mom taking it?”
“She’s a fighter too. But she has her moments. That’s why I stay close to him. I try to be there without being in the way. Dad gets mad if we treat him like a patient. But it does get hard, Mason. That’s why when you ask…you say I left you—I did. I was hurt. And then my world kept falling apart. I had this moment where all of a sudden, I’d wake up and everything was gone. My perfect parents…my father is sick. Next thing I know, Davis is next to me. Like you said, I was trying to go back to fix everything. I failed. I fucked up.”
Mason reached across the counter and took my hand. “You didn’t fuck up, babe. You looked for comfort. There’s no shame in that. I’ve been doing the same fucking thing.”
He let my hand go and shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
I was desperate for romance. Desperate for him to take down his walls and show me all of him.
“I’m so sorry about Hank,” Mason said. “I want to see him.”
“What?”
“I want to visit him. Tell him I’m thinking about him.”
“That’s probably not-”
“Look, I don’t give a shit about your boyfriend. You’re the one who has to give a shit about him. You're the one who just came by me breathing on you. You think that’s hot? I think it’s pathetic, Violet. It means you’re not being cared for. That fucking pisses me off. But it’s up to you to fix.”
I gasped. This went from a sweet moment to a typical-asshole-Mason moment.
“Jackass,” I whispered.
“You only believe that because I’m right. I’m going to visit your father.”
I wanted to fight back, but I couldn’t. I saw genuine care in Mason’s eyes. When I told Davis that my father had cancer, what had been his response? Damn. That was it. Damn. And going to see my father was like torture. Davis was afraid that my father was going to look skeletal and scary. He said that to me. More than once.
“Fine,” I said. “I’m sure he’d like to see you.”
“Because he hates Davis,” Mason said with a grin.
“No,” I lied.
“Liar,” Mason said. “He fucking hates that guy. I know it. And he loves me.”
“Not so much,” I lied again. “You hurt me, Mason. You have a wife. Remember?”
“And I’d bet everything I own you didn’t tell your parents about that part of me.”
“What makes you say that?”
Mason walked around the counter. He grabbed the barstool and spun it so I was facing him.
Fuck, he was so sexy. He was making me achy and wet again already.
“Because you don’t know the story,” he said to me. “And because you don’t believe that I would be that much of a fucking asshole. Because you keep some kind of faith in me to turn out as this good guy. So you’ll tuck that secret into your pocket until you know the truth of it.”
I swallowed hard.
He could read me so easily. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. It meant he could expose my heart and hurt me at his disposal.
“You’ll know everything when the time comes, Violet,” Mason said. “But you better go now before anything else happens. I’ll come visit your father tomorrow.”
He leaned in and kissed my forehead.
When he pulled back, I grabbed his shirt. The second I grabbed him, he grabbed my hand and tore it away.
“Time to go, babe.”
“I’m getting kicked out now?”
“I got what I wanted,” Mason said. “Now go.”
He wasn’t kidding, either.
He walked away, and then to my shock, he took off his shirt. He balled it up with one hand and threw it to the floor. That’s when I got to see that his tattoos stopped at his shoulders. There was something about seeing his bare, exposed back, cascading with muscle. Every time I thought Mason couldn’t get any sexier, he proved me wrong.
Glancing over his shoulder, he raised an eyebrow. “I need a shower. Get the fuck out of my apartment, Violet.”
Without hesitation, Mason opened his jeans and started to drop them.
“I’m going,” I said.
I hated myself for leaving. But I had done enough damage for one day and one night. If I saw him naked, I wouldn’t have left. I would have been in the shower, pressed against the cool tiles, the hot water pounding at me as hard as fast as Mason pounded inside me.
Mason turned a little, showing me more muscle and more ink.
“I’m not fucking playing,” he growled.
My eyes stopped at his chest.
He’d had a date tattooed across his heart. But that was now gone. Now it was just a black rectangle.
That’s when I showed myself to the door and got out of there.
My head was spinning. My heart was racing.
Mason was still a mystery to me.
A mystery I was addicted to.
A mystery I would give my life to find out.
A mystery that was going to hurt me…again and again and again…
15
Fucking Sick
(Mason)
I couldn’t believe Hank was fucking sick. Fucking cancer. Stupid fucking cancer rearing its ugly ass head into my life again. It took more strength than I knew I had not to lose my shit when Violet told me about Hank. So, the only way I could deal with it was to strip naked to chase her out of my apartment. I then spent the next hour in a hot shower with my hands balled into fists. I punched the tiles a few times, wanting them to crack. I wanted to hurt. I wanted to bleed.
That came later when I picked a fight in a bar. I took on two guys and got my ass lit up behind the dive i
n an alleyway. Now, to be fair, I got my share of blows on the two douchebags I fought, but they managed to muscle me just enough to put me on the ground. I could’ve gotten back up, but I sat there, collecting my thoughts along with my cuts and bruises.
I thought about cancer.
I thought about what it was, what it could do, what it had done to my life. There was a certain point in time when I would look to the stars and wish it to be my turn. Have my battle with it and let myself finally get taken by time.
I went home alone that night and crashed into my bed, waking up the next morning to dried blood on my pillow and blankets.
All because of fucking cancer.
All because Hank was fucking sick.
Violet’s father. A good man. A man who looked beyond everything I was and saw the real me.
So after a long day at the shop with Hunter, I got into my truck and headed toward Violet’s shitty little town she grew up in, knowing I was stepping into enemy territory with Davis. I knew it was going to be a hectic situation for her, but I also knew she was smart enough to keep Davis away. I wasn’t going up there to start a fight. I was going to pay my respects to a sick man who could possibly be looking down the barrel of a silent gun, with the Grim Reaper on the other side, cackling, winking, knowing he controlled the end.
When I got to Violet’s, I didn’t know what to expect. History played over in my mind and told me what I could possibly expect.
I rang the doorbell and it was Hank who opened the door.
He took one look at me and cleared his throat. He then winced, grabbed at his chest, turned his head to shield tears forming in his eyes, and offered a hand to me. I realized he was grabbing for my shirt for balance, so I threw my hand out to him and grabbed his elbow.
“Mason,” he said in a gruff voice.
“Dad,” Violet’s voice called out. “I said I would get it.”
“I got the damn door,” Hank snapped.
Hank looked at me. That’s when I saw it. That look. That desperate look. A look you only gave to someone you trusted or someone you knew could handle the truth of pain.
I nodded to Hank and stepped into the house. I turned so Violet wouldn’t see her father clinging to me for balance. And I would damn sure never bring it up to her or Hank, ever.
“Violet,” I said.
Color rushed to her cheeks as she stared at me.
“Mason’s here,” Hank said. “You got yourself a tattoo or two, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I got rid of my shop and got a little bored. Some cash burning a hole in my pocket.”
“It looks good,” Hank said. “Looks great. Really great.”
Barb appeared, wiping her hands with a dishtowel. “Mason! It’s good to see you again.”
“Barb, look at Mason’s ink,” Hank said.
“Ink?” Barb said. “Since when do you call it ink? You think ink is in a pen. Not on skin.”
“Hey now,” Hank growled. “I know about ink. I was thinking of getting some myself. A nice skull or something.”
“That would look good,” I said. “Maybe on your shoulder.”
“Hell yeah.”
“Dad, stop,” Violet said. “You’re afraid of needles.”
“Like hell I am,” Hank said, puffing out his chest.
I felt him starting to stumble.
“I hate to ask,” I said, “but can I get a drink?”
“Sure,” Barb said. “How rude of me not to offer.”
I winked at Violet, and she stood dumbfounded at how easily I had won her parents over. Hell, it amazed me too. Anyone would have been smart to take one look at me and run like the fucking wind.
Instead, I walked Hank to the couch and sat him down. I then backed up and crashed into a chair.
We looked at each other, nodding. The silent man-conversation.
Finally, I said, “Fucking cancer.”
“Fucking cancer,” Hank whispered back. He cleared his throat.
“How are you feeling, though?” I asked. “Bullshit aside.”
“Like I have cancer,” he said.
Barb appeared.
Hank put a big smile on his face.
That right there…that little gesture…that was fucking love. True love. Real love. This was a man who could swallow pain and anger to smile in front of his wife. Anything to ease her gentle soul, even if it was only for a few seconds.
I swallowed hard, knowing I would do the same thing for Violet.
“Iced tea?” Barb asked.
“Perfect,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.
“Yes he is,” Hank said.
“No,” I said. “I couldn’t do that.”
“Yes you can,” Hank said firmly.
“Hank…I didn’t come here to cause any trouble.”
“Trouble,” Hank said. He curled his lip. “With the pansy-ass-baseball guy she’s been bringing around…”
Hank pointed to Violet. I looked at her, and her cheeks were apple-red.
I winked and she walked away.
“You two figure it out,” Barb said. “I’ll set an extra plate, just in case.”
I sipped the iced tea and felt like my teeth were going to rot on the spot.
Hank shook his head. “She makes this sweet, huh?”
“It’s good.”
“You should stay,” Hank said. “I can’t stand that other tool.”
I chuckled. “Hank…it’s a messed-up situation.”
“Look,” he said. He winced as he moved to the edge of the couch. “I’ve got a few more of these treatments left. So far, so good. If I come out on the other side free and clear, then life goes on. If not, then it gets worse for me. More treatments. Surgery. All kinds of risky shit. I never once got in the middle of Violet’s life. She’s always been a good kid. Smart. Funny. And look at her. Making all that money with the cell phone stuff or whatever the hell she does. One thing I always knew is that she’d find someone good for her. Me and Barb, we may look a certain way. But we would never judge. I don’t care about how you look to me, Mason. I care about how Violet looks at you. And I just watched her stand there and stare at you with the same eyes I caught Barb giving me so many times. That other guy? Davis? I blame myself.”
“You? Why you?”
“Because of the cancer,” Hank said. Then he groaned and grabbed at his ribs. “She came back hurt and confused. I don’t know why you two called it quits, but don’t let it be for long.”
“What if I told you I was no good?” I asked. “What if I told you I hurt her? What if I told you I…” have a fucking wife… “I lied to her…”
“Mason,” Hank said. “I saw the same look on your face when you looked at her. When it works, it works.”
I rubbed my jaw. I took another sip of the super sugary iced tea.
“You know, I lost someone to cancer,” I said. “I’ve never told Violet about it. The whole story. What it all meant to me. When she told me that you were sick, a numbness went through me. I don’t do the prayer thing, Hank. It’s not my vibe. But if I did, I would pray with every last beat of my heart that you come out okay on the other side of this. I never want Violet to feel the emptiness I feel.”
“You won’t, son,” Hank said. “You won’t. You don’t need to pray. You don’t need to feel empty.”
Jesus, this guy was cutting through me.
“Hank, do you need anything else?” Barb asked, appearing from nowhere.
“I’m fine. Thank you. Just catching up on tattoos and stuff.”
“I’m not a fan of tattoos, personally,” Barb said. “But they look good on you, Mason. They fit you.”
“Mom,” Violet said. She was now standing next to the chair. I stood up. “Don’t keep talking about his tattoos.”
“I have an announcement,” Hank said. “When I finish my last treatment, I’m going to get a tattoo. No lie. No joke.”
“Hank…”
“Did I eve
r tell you the joke my father told me about his tattoo?”
“Dad, please,” Violet said.
“What is it?” I asked.
“No,” Violet said, grabbing at my arm.
“Hank, don’t you say anything to embarrass Violet,” Barb said.
Hank looked at me. “He said he had a tattoo of chicken showing its asshole tattooed on his stomach.”
“Oh, no,” Violet groaned.
“And then,” Hank went on, “he’d lift up his shirt, high enough to show his belly button. And he’d look down. Then he’d said, ‘oh, damn, the chicken ran away and left its asshole!’.”
Hank started to laugh.
It was a dry, bouncing laugh. A pained laugh.
But I started to laugh too. I looked at Barb, and she started to laugh. Hank was damn near ready to fall off the couch. Violet’s cheeks were red again, but she started to laugh too.
We all laughed until Barb started to tear up.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Violet asked.
She waved at all of us. “Nothing. We just haven’t had a good laugh in a while here.”
“Ah, Barb,” Hank said. He wrestled to get to his feet. “Ah, come here…”
I glanced at Violet.
There was too much emotion in the room for me.
I was feeling a little overwhelmed.
And that was the exact second the doorbell rang.
And the entire vibe changed…for good reason.
I stood between the living room and the foyer when Violet opened the front door. There stood Davis. In a damn nice polo shirt, his hair looking perfect, and a fake-ass smile on his face. In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers.
“Hey,” he said. “I…”
That’s when he looked at me.
I looked over at Barb and Hank. Barb’s eyes were wide. Hank’s lip started to curl.
“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” I said to them. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble.”
“Barb, will you go check on the food?” Hank asked.
“Hank…don’t you do anything…”
“Nothing is going to happen,” I said. “I’m leaving.”
“That’s the fucking bartender from the other night,” I heard Davis say.
“Davis, wait a second,” Violet said.
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