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Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest Series Book 7)

Page 29

by Tijan


  He shook his head, letting out a deep sigh. “Where do we go from here? Do we share custody of Logan or something?”

  So quick. “Is that it?”

  “What?” He frowned, looking back at me again. I saw anguish there. His eyes darkened, and he blinked a few times, holding back tears.

  “You don’t want to talk about it?”

  I wanted him to. I needed him to.

  He raked a hand over his face and jaw. That chiseled and strong jaw that had faced down so many enemies—some of them for me, some for other loved ones, some for him, and some just because he’d been hurting at the time.

  He dropped his hand to his side. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m ashamed, Sam. I hate that it happened. I know I’m a part of it. And I know why you walked. To be honest, I was glad. A gun—fuck’s sake. He said it was for his dad, but who knows if that was true. What if he’d been more depressed that day? What if I hadn’t seen it coming? Depression translates to anger real quick for guys. I thought he was there for another fight, and I kept thinking, He won’t go away. I wanted him to leave, but not for me. Not even for Logan. For you. No matter what Quinn says, he still has a thing for you. I know he does. I see it in him.”

  “Adam.”

  “What?”

  “His name is Adam.”

  Some of the anger in him softened. “Adam. I broke him. I realize that now.” Mason’s voice broke, and I felt a new wave of my own tears forming.

  “We all did that,” I whispered.

  “No, Sam. It was me. You know it. I set the tone. I set the pace. Logan might be raring to go, but I can let him go or rein him in. It’s all on me. You know it is.”

  “Then why do I feel this?” I pressed my hands to my stomach, feeling guilt and shame there. They weren’t moving. I didn’t think they’d ever leave me. “I had a hand in it.”

  “No.” He shook his head, coming to sit on the lounger next to me. He reached forward to take my hand, then thought better of it.

  I reached out and caught his instead. I wanted that, and he expelled a ragged breath, his head falling down. He squeezed my hand.

  We sat there for a moment. Just holding hands again. No words.

  “I’ve been trying to understand where it all went dark, but I can’t,” he said. “What we do, all of us—it’s too much. We went too far with Adam. I’ve been able to walk the line, but this time we went over it. I can deal with protecting Logan, or myself, or Nate, but you . . . I can’t see that line when it comes to you. I get so angry, and I want to beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you. I enjoyed hitting Adam. I enjoyed rushing him and pushing him against my truck. I wished I could’ve hit him a second time, even after he was unconscious, even when I knew why I was hitting him. I still wanted to do it again. That’s too much.” He paused a beat. “I could kill someone. That’s how far I would go for you.”

  Were those words supposed to scare me? Maybe.

  Should I have been disgusted to hear them? Maybe.

  Should I have felt justified by leaving? Maybe.

  I felt none of that.

  I left because I was scared for him.

  “I know who you are.” I adjusted my hold on his hand, lacing our fingers together. “I fell in love with who you are. Who are you is not what I’m scared of.”

  He lifted his eyes.

  “You’re going to break someone one day. And someone’s going to die if we keep going as far as we do.”

  We. Not him. We. Us.

  “I remember when you told me you loved me. I remember when we left that bedroom and when I saw that Logan had slept with Miranda Stewart. I know he did it for me, and he was setting her up to protect me. I also know he did it because you told him to do it. You did that for me. That’s when I signed up for this.” I lifted our hands.

  “I thought Qui—Adam had a gun. I thought he was going to kill you. You were there because of me. He was there because of me. This whole thing was because I didn’t pull back when I should’ve. I don’t see that line when it comes to you.”

  I started to shake my head.

  “No, Sam. It killed me when I saw you were leaving. I saw it in your eyes, and I couldn’t even fight you because I knew it was right too. It still is right.”

  My heart clenched. My chest felt like it was going to cave in.

  “Something has to change,” he said. “I don’t know what, but something.”

  Was he . . . I couldn’t finish that thought. My stomach dropped to my feet.

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “We should stay like this.”

  I flinched. “Mason . . .” I started.

  I know he didn’t mean to do it, and I know this whole train started going because I climbed behind the wheel, but I still felt a knife slice into my chest at his words. This was right, but it hurt. It hurt so damned much.

  “Mason,” I whispered.

  He sighed. “I know.” His hand held onto mine so tightly. “I know.”

  “How can we do this?”

  He shook his head. He was pale. His eyes were tortured. “I don’t know. Can you stay where you are? Do you need a house or something?”

  God—another knife pushed in and made the cut even wider. “I’m okay.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded. “I have Garrett’s inheritance, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot.”

  I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t see. I just held onto his hand, not knowing the next time I would have it again.

  His eyes darkened. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll fix something. I just don’t know what yet.”

  This was the part of the conversation where we should have stood up to leave.

  We didn’t. We stayed.

  I just held on to his hand.

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  Heather asked that as soon as I got back to Courtney and Grace’s. They both waved from the living room as Heather followed me to my bedroom.

  I’d been a bit more with it the last couple days, but I remembered how my roommates had acted when Heather came in, took over, and handled me. They idolized her, and after she stood up to Logan, they idolized her even more. I didn’t blame them.

  I lay down on the bed.

  Heather raised an eyebrow and turned around. She’d been putting on lipstick in the mirror. “What’s that look mean?”

  I pushed myself up, resting on my hands tucked behind me. “Thank you for coming and staying.”

  She shrugged, her eyes still narrowed and studying me. “You’re my best friend. You haven’t told me what happened, so I can only imagine it was bad.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Why didn’t you push?”

  “It’s your business.” She turned back to the mirror and pulled her lipstick out again. “You’ll tell me if you want, but I know you guys. If you don’t tell me, I figure it’s for a reason.”

  I nodded. “Still. Thank you.” I gestured to Logan’s empty cot in the corner. “Thanks for being okay with him being here too.”

  She finished applying her lipstick. A fresh red coat in place, she came over to sit next to me. She sighed. “He loves you. They all love you.”

  I glanced to her.

  “I love you too,” she said.

  “I know.” I sat up and squeezed one of her hands. “I love you too.”

  “And Taylor’s freaking adorable. Her and Logan. He really loves her.”

  I nodded. “He does.”

  “That’s good. Taylor completes him. He’s found his someone. You’re a lot happier now,” she added. “Are we moving back to the Kade house?”

  I shook my head, running a hand through my hair before sitting forward and leaning my elbows on my knees. “No. We went too far with something, but we’re going to fix it.”

  “Okay.” She stood up, patting me on the leg. “I have no idea what that means, but I trust you. And personally, I don’t want to know. But I do know that you have two friends out there who really
care about you. It’s Friday, and technically, you’re single tonight.”

  “I’m not single.” I was. Was I?

  Pain sliced through me. I didn’t want to think about it.

  She pulled me up, grinning, and headed for the door. “I’m not saying you should hook up with someone. That guy would just wake up in the hospital, and we’d both know who put him there, single or not. But you can do what single girls do.” She let go of my hand and led the way to the living room.

  Both Courtney and Grace had drinks in front of them. They looked up.

  “What’s up?” Courtney was grinning, her cheeks red.

  Grace tried to stifle a laugh.

  “You guys are both single, right?” Heather asked.

  At the question, Grace spilled over onto the rest of the couch. She couldn’t stifle the laughter anymore, and she buried her head in a pillow.

  Courtney said in between her own laughs, “We were just talking about that. Matteo made a cameo here last night. He and Logan ran into each other in the hallway. Neither was expecting to see the other.” Her eyes suddenly widened and she sucked in her breath, looking to me. “I was supposed to tell you they slept together. I forgot.”

  “Logan and Matteo?”

  “No.”

  Grace was laughing again.

  Courtney scowled at her. “You should tell her. You’re the one who slept with him.”

  But Grace couldn’t. She was still laughing.

  Courtney rolled her eyes. “Grace and Matteo slept together.”

  She waited, watching me.

  Heather frowned, turning to me too. Grace finally stopped laughing.

  I shrugged. “So?”

  “So . . .” Courtney and Grace shared a look. “Is that a problem? You know, is that going to cause drama or anything?”

  I looked at Heather before raising my shoulders again. “I don’t know why it would.”

  “Oh.” Courtney blinked a few times, relief flashing over her face. She nodded to Grace. “She’s okay with it.”

  Grace was nodding. “Matteo said she would be.” She turned to me. “Are you feeling better?”

  She was asking about Mason. I changed the subject.

  “Matteo and Logan ran into each other? We missed this?”

  “Yeah.” Courtney’s cheeks reddened. “Logan was dressed. Matteo was not.”

  Heather chuckled. “I’m sure that was a fun time. So, are you and Matteo lock, stock, and barrel?”

  “Huh?”

  “Did Matteo wife up?” I asked, trying to explain.

  “No!” Grace’s entire face flared up. “No. I mean . . . no.”

  “All the more reason for tonight.” Heather clapped her hands together. “I have a feeling I won’t need to be here much longer, so how about we go to a club and pretend we’re all single ladies tonight.” She held her hands out. “Not as in hooking up with guys, but some fun drinking and dancing. No guys involved. We can do stupid dances, if we want.”

  “We have a race tomorrow.” Courtney looked at me. “Coach asked me earlier if you were going to come.”

  I wasn’t.

  I said, “I’ll email him.”

  Coach would understand, and I would start running again tomorrow. It’d been two weeks, and I was feeling the itch to pound pavement. I wouldn’t be able to stay away now that I felt sturdier.

  I knew I could stop.

  “Will one bad race affect you guys that much?” Heather asked.

  I had to laugh. Heather wasn’t messing around. We were going to drink. We were going to dance. And we were probably going to get fucked up doing it.

  Why we were outside the loud nightclub still escaped me, but we were here. Taylor was coming, and Courtney and Grace were in line right next to Heather and me. The music was booming, and the rest of the people in line with us were talking, complaining, smoking, or already dancing. I’d been to the club once before, when Mason was a freshman and I was visiting him from Fallen Crest. Nate’s fraternity had a private room that night.

  That felt so long ago.

  Heather snuffed out her second cigarette and came back over. “This is ridiculous.” Her hands found her slim hips as she surveyed the line. “Can’t you use Mason’s name to get us inside? If he were here, you know we’d get in right away.”

  “Yeah, but Mason and I broke up.”

  She waved that off. “Yeah, right. You’ll get drunk tonight, call him, and I’ll end up sleeping on the couch. I can read the writing on the wall.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I’m not the most patient one.”

  Her phone had buzzed nonstop the first couple days after she came to Cain, but it had stopped after she stepped outside for a heated conversation with Channing. I knew he’d come up with her and spent time with the guys, but I wasn’t sure what had happened after that.

  “You and Channing have a fight?”

  She groaned.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head, still scanning the line. “It’s fine. He partied with the guys for a night, then headed back to Roussou. There are things going on with his sister, and he’s got this idea we should chill for a while, for her benefit. It’s all bullshit.”

  She’d mentioned Channing’s sister before, but I’d never met her. “I’m sorry I’ve not been the best friend this week.”

  She squeezed my arm gently. “Samantha, seriously. You and Mason broke up. Granted, I don’t think that’s going to last long, but still. That’s apocalypse sort of stuff. Like, end of the world stuff—”

  “Are you Samantha Strattan?”

  A security guard stopped and blinked a few times at me as he passed.

  “Yeah?”

  Heather nodded. “That’s Mason Kade’s fiancée. And she’s an Olympic hopeful.”

  “What are you doing in line?” He motioned for us to come with him and gestured to the other security guards at the door. “Just tell those guys who you are. You should never have to wait.” He led the way and held the door for us. As we swept in, he winked. “Just use my name if they don’t believe you.”

  “And your name would be?” Heather turned to walk backward behind me. Her tone dropped low.

  “Bass.”

  “Bass?”

  I glanced back and saw a slow smile spread on his face, his eyes darkened. “Oh yeah. Bass. That’s all you need to find me.”

  “I might put that to the test one day,” Heather said.

  Courtney and Grace laughed as they ducked around Heather and me to get inside. Once Bass closed the door, the nightclub was startlingly dark—until red, pink, blue, and green neon lights lit the way and we found a bar. That’s when the shots started.

  Shot one. Shot two. Three. Four.

  It wasn’t long until I was fucked up.

  I began feeling the music. The lights blurred around me. The edges of my vision closed so I wasn’t aware of anyone except my friends, and before long, I was smiling. I was laughing. I was enjoying time with these girls. Mason was still with me—he was always there, always in the back of my mind, but he was sleeping right now. He wasn’t active in my mind, not like these friends.

  Feeling someone behind me, I turned, a wide smile already on my face.

  “Taylor!” I threw my arms around her.

  “HEY!” Courtney raised her drink, sliding off her stool, and she hugged Taylor too. “You made it.”

  “I did.” Taylor was laughing but as she took us all in, she shook her head slightly. “When you said you were going out for drinks, I thought one or two.” She eyed the half-empty glass in Courtney’s hand and the shot I’d just taken. “How many are you guys on?”

  I held up my hand, my fingers spread out. “Seven!”

  Grace tripped over to us, giggling, and she held up two fingers next to my hand. “Now that’s right.”

  “Oh yeah.” I turned, looping my arm around her shoulders. “Thank you for that. I forgot.”

  Heather handed Taylor a glass. “Here. Drink up. You have a long way
to catch up.”

  Taylor took it, still eyeing us with raised eyebrows. “We’re cabbing it home, right?”

  I nodded. Even drunk, my cheeks were hurting. “And no calling Logan for a ride.”

  She would call him, and he’d call Mason, and both of them would come, and then Mason would find me. We’d find a dark corner, and tonight would be for nothing. I held up a finger. “Tonight is about friends. Not boys. Friends.”

  Taylor watched me, sober.

  Courtney’s eyes were glazed over as she propped an elbow on the bar to rest her head. She was watching me. So was Grace, weaving, her cheeks flushed, and a hand over her mouth to keep in the infectious giggles that’d been spilling out all night long. And then Heather stood next to Taylor. Her long dirty-sexy blond hair was messed, and her black eye shadow was smudged, but her eyes were still alert.

  I took a moment, looking at all of them watching me back.

  They were here because of me, for me.

  I opened my arms to them. “I love you guys.” I couldn’t look away from Heather. “How’d I get so lucky? Why do you like me?”

  “Oh, Sam.” Taylor sighed.

  Courtney brushed a hand over her eyes, and Grace’s hand fell from her mouth.

  Heather reached for me. She held me tight, whispering against my hair. “I’ve got my dad and brothers, and I’ve got Channing, but you’re family too. You gave me a family too, you know.”

  I clasped on to her. I meant what I said—why did she like me? Why did anyone like me? Some days I was weak, whiny, and wishy-washy. And those were the only W characteristics I could think of when I was intoxicated.

  I was so goddamn lucky.

  “You’re not any of those.”

  I pulled back.

  Heather shook her head, wearing a wry grin. “You’re not weak. You’ve never whined. And you’re damn sure not wishy-washy. You love, and you love hard, and you never complain. I know you stepped away from Mason, and I know it probably killed you to do that. Don’t think of yourself that way. Anyone who says that shit about you is the weak one. They’re the whiny ones. Don’t ever let yourself be defined by someone else’s biases. Got it? You’re one of the strongest people I know, and that’s saying a lot.” Her hands caught my shoulders. “Got it, Sam? Tell me you got it.”

 

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