“I’m just trying to protect you, Quinn. You can’t just go around exacting vengeance. There are rules against using magic in that way,” he insisted. “We can go to the police and tell them your story. Maybe they can be tried even though it happened years ago.”
“There are too many holes in my story, especially about the amnesia. I can’t risk that they won’t get convicted,” I countered.
“Look, I don’t want to argue. I have to make some phone calls to let people know that Aunt Stella has passed away. Why don’t we head inside?”
At that moment, I had to let go. Between my past and my need for revenge, my budding relationship with Mason had no chance of survival. There was too much hate and destruction left over from our childhoods that would taint anything we tried to build together.
Over the course of a year, I had fallen in love with Mason. He owned my heart and probably always would. My love for him was the reason I couldn’t be with him. If going after Benji, Cam, and Danny was dangerous, I couldn’t put Mason at risk.
“I need time, Mason. I think it would be best if I left for a few days and worked on getting my head together,” I stated flatly.
He shrugged and I could tell I hurt him. “Fine. You can have Aunt Stella’s car. Keep it for as long as you like.”
Tears blurred my vision as I watched him head indoors. I should have been there for him and not wallowing in my own self-pity. His aunt had just passed away and I should have been helping him deal with his grief. Maybe it was for the best if he ended up hating me. I desired revenge, but I also needed him to stay safe.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It drizzled on the day of Stella’s funeral. My heels dug into the moist ground as I marched to the small gathering of people under an erected tent. The faces were mostly unfamiliar, except for a couple of clients I recognized from past visits to the Chadwick House. Mason sat stiffly in a chair next to the coffin, keeping his eyes on the reverend that was relaying words of comfort to the gathering.
I longed to push my way to the front and sit next to him. I would grab his hand and whisper a thousand apologies into his ear. I would promise to stay at the Chadwick House with him and start a new life together. Finally, I would tell him that I loved him and pray that he felt the same.
Mason deserved better than what I could offer him. I was blinded by my need to make my attackers pay for what they did to me. I couldn’t rest until I felt they have done their penance. Dragging Mason into a revenge quest would prove disastrous.
I had left the Chadwick House after gathering up most of my meager belongings. Mason had said goodbye before I left, but I felt chilled by his manner when I found him sitting alone in the kitchen. The lights were dimmed and a bottle of Jack Daniels and a tumbler was set on the table in front of him.
After a light peck on his cheek, I hurried out of there as quickly as possible. His hand snaked around my waist before I made it out of the door. His kiss was a balm to my tortured mind and it was also a promise. His lips were insistent and I yielded to them. He wasn’t giving up on us. He would give me space, but not for long.
After a few short minutes, the crowd began to disperse. The reverend approached Mason and offered his condolences. Mason shook his hand and stood up from the folding chair. He saw me in his peripheral vision and excused himself from the reverend. I gave him a hesitant smile as he approached.
“You’re here,” he said as if I was a phantom.
“Of course,” I assured him and squeezed his hand. Truthfully, I had dreaded coming to the cemetery. Stella had meant more to me than I ever anticipated. It was hard letting her go and coming to grips with the sacrifice she made to lift her amnesia spell.
An awkward silence ensued. Mason never took his eyes off of me and I could see the questions there. I looked away from his penetrating stare and focused on his hands instead. I said lightly, “You’re wearing the ring I gave you.”
“I never take it off,” he answered.
My emotions were clogging my mind. I had promised myself that I would come to the cemetery, pay my condolences, and then leave to the airport without a second thought about Mason. Instead, his closeness was making me think that I was a fool to believe that Mason could ever be so easily removed from my heart.
His voice broke into my reverie. “Where have you been?”
“I stayed at a hotel for the last couple of days about twenty minutes from here,” I said. After his silence, I confessed, “I booked a flight to Florida for tonight.”
“Quinn…” he said in a broken whisper, “don’t go.”
“I have to,” I argued. “Danny Bernard lives there now. He’s in law school.” I laughed without humor. “Can you imagine? He rapes an eight-year-old and wants to have a career defending scumbags that are just like him.”
“Quinn, what’s your plan?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I figure I’ll just go there and bring him to his knees with my scary witch powers.”
He didn’t laugh at my attempt at levity. “Is there no way I can convince you to let this go and stay with me?”
“It isn’t that I don’t want to be with you, but I can’t,” I told him earnestly. “It’s not only about revenge….” I trailed off. Heat rose to my cheeks as I admitted, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sleep with you. Now that I’ve witnessed what happened, I’m not sure I can get over it and be intimate with anyone…ever.”
Mason gripped both of my hands. “I’ve never pressured you into anything and I don’t plan on it. I wish you would stop being so stubborn and let me help you.” He bit his lower lip and I could see a plan forming in his mind. He suggested, “Why don’t I come with you?”
“What?”
“You’ll need money. Aunt Stella left me everything and I could help pay for whatever we need. Besides a plane ticket, I’m sure you’ll need money for a hotel, a car rental, food.”
His logic was sound. To be honest, I had run through most of the money my mother had given me before I left Harveys Lake. I only had a few hundred dollars to my name after paying for the plane ticket and the hotel room for the past couple of days.
“But it could be dangerous,” I argued.
“Exactly the reason I should go,” he urged. “I don’t want you anywhere near them. If you are so set on going, I want to be there to protect you.”
“Mason, I’m a witch, I can take care of myself,” I replied.
“So can I,” he retorted. He wiggled his finger with the ring on it. “Plus, I have this as extra protection.”
I should’ve refused him. My rational brain told me how wrong it was to drag him into this. However, the thought of going after the Bernard brothers and Benji alone did terrify me. I said weakly, “The plane leaves at six. There were seats left last night when I booked it.”
He tried to kiss me. I stopped him by pushing at his chest. “We can’t be a couple right now, Mason. If we do this together, it has to be as friends.”
“Is that a challenge, Quinn?” he whispered. “Because you know I’m good at chasing you.”
I almost smiled. I looked behind his shoulder as Stella’s casket was lowered into the ground. He turned with me and frowned deeply. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Maybe, Mason needed me as much as I needed him.
Our future was uncertain, but this moment gave me hope. I understood that Stella wanted us to take care of each other now that she was gone. This path may not be the one she envisioned for me, but maybe once I had my revenge, I could live happily ever after with her nephew. Maybe even a damaged witch could be loved.
For now, I had plans to make. I had to decide how I would bring Danny Bernard to justice. His debt was ten years old and I planned to collect interest on what was my due. Danny had no idea that an executioner was holding an axe over his head and judging the best way to bring it down.
THE END
Heather Topham Wood
Heather Topham Wood’s obsession with novels began in childhood while gro
wing up in a shore town in New Jersey. Writing since her teens, she recently returned to penning novels after a successful career as a freelance writer. In 2012, she published the first two novels in her Second Sight series: First Visions and New Revelations.
Heather graduated from the College of New Jersey in 2005 and holds a bachelor's degree in English. Her freelance work has appeared in publications such as USA Today, Livestrong.com, Outlook by the Bay and Step in Style magazine. She resides in Trenton, New Jersey with her husband and two sons. Besides writing, Heather is a pop culture fanatic and has an obsession with supernatural novels and TV shows.
Learn more about Heather on her blog:
http://authorheather.com.
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