Rachel came in behind Gabby in her short red dress that “accidentally” showed off her underwear at least a dozen times whenever she wore it. She looked Mason up and down, sizing up the new addition she had once patted on the head when he was a wolf. “Who’s this tall drink of too much water? Let’s get this man a cocktail. I’m Rachel.”
Ollie was already on his feet, taking out two-liters of pop and opening a bag of chips to toss into the overlarge popcorn bowl. “Hey, Rachel. You remember Danny, Von and Mariang. This is Mason, our newest addition. He’s crashing here for a while.” He raised a hand to wave in the others who were coming in behind the girls. Gabby turned on the music, giving her hips a warm-up swirl. Half the crew was filtering in, turning me introverted as I stood to greet my friends, offering Mariang a bland smile.
Mariang was grinning from ear to ear at the impromptu party. Her social life consisted of her father, her irritable boyfriend and magical Terraway creatures who, let’s face it, were each terrible at making nice unless politics forced it out of them. “This is wonderful! So good to see you all.”
“This is terrible,” Danny countered, his eyebrows pushed together as he counted the growing number of people coming through the door. “Do you know all these people?”
“Yeah. Known them for years.” I bumped fists with Jordan, Marcus, Amber and Katrina. “Ollie went to high school with most of them. They’re fine, but they’ll be here until one or two in the morning.” I waved to the growing number of people and escaped to the kitchen to put some of the Chinese food away.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were having a party?” Danny groused, following me into the kitchen. “I don’t like this many people milling about. I can’t keep a proper eye on you two like this.”
“A) I didn’t plan this. Gabby likes to throw parties at our house because it’s always clean and she knows I’m a giant pushover about this kind of stuff. B) You don’t have to guard us against these guys. They’re harmless civilians. You know, like you’re supposed to be. So be a dear and put on your harmless civilian face.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust your judgment on who’s harmless. You asked Captain Finn to escort you through Silo.” Danny said this like he was jealous, like the fact that I’d asked Finn and not him was an egregious jilt to his knife-wielding ego.
“You’re seriously still mad about that? Finn’s a rule breaker, and you’re the king rule follower. Plus, I wasn’t about to tear you away from your regular daily duties. What’d you expect me to do?”
Danny gave me a hard look before Jordan and Nick called to me from the living room. “Bait!” Nick made his way to the kitchen and clapped me twice on the shoulder. “Where’ve you been hiding, kid? We missed you. All work and no play, as usual?”
I looked up at him with a baleful expression. “You didn’t miss me. You missed being able to drink yourself stupid and leave it all for me to clean up.”
“You got any cookies?”
“No.” When it dawned on me there was too much of a smile on his face, I held up my finger. “No, Nick.”
It was no use. My friends had no boundaries, and no matter how much of a voice I wanted to have, it was always overlooked. “You know what I’m hungry for. I need an October sandwich cookie!” Then Nick yanked on my arm and tugged me into the living room, mashing me between himself and Jordan, where they hugged me and bumped me back and forth until I hit the floor to escape.
Nick was starting to get a beer gut to rival Jordan’s – a thing I wished I hadn’t figured out by it being bashed up against me.
It took only five minutes for fourteen of Ollie’s friends to fill up my home. Mason was my constant shadow, making me jumpy, which meant he had to pull from me even more. It was a vicious cycle. Danny was glued to Mariang, horrified that Jordan and Nick might try to make a Mariang sandwich cookie or something.
Mariang was in her element. She chatted animatedly with Gabby, did shots with a few who’d congregated around the kitchen table to get to know the newcomers, and made plans with some of the girls to go shopping the next day.
It wasn’t lost on me that she fit in far better with our friends in the first ten minutes than I ever had.
31
To Make you Happy
We didn’t have a story for how Mason got there, so I passed him off as a work friend. A friend who smiled only when social norms dictated it and stayed close to me, sniffing my water before I took a sip. “Where did Von drift off to?” he wondered aloud, searching the faces for a familiar one.
I stood near the back of the living room, leaning against the long taupe curtains I had drawn closed over the picture window. “Dunno. He’s great in these social settings. He’ll probably be elected King Von of the Beer-Chuggers or something.”
Mason squinted as he scanned the room, his eyes landing on a space in the corner and widening in surprise. He coughed twice and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, corralling me into the kitchen. “I’m thirsty. Let’s get something to drink over here.”
“Okay.” I was confused as to why Mason was being nice to me. Voluntarily touching me without pulling as a motive. “You alright?”
“Of course. You?” He asked with too much sincerity, too much concern. I wondered how haggard I looked if he thought an unwelcome impromptu party might turn me into a basket case.
“I’m getting used to your friends, I think. You know, I was thinking of making a swing by my home when we go camping next.”
Camping was his clever code for mentioning Terraway, though he could’ve said Terraway, and no one would’ve been any the wiser. “Which home? The one you grew up in or the one you left to be here? Hayop or Sombi?”
Mason softened a degree and actually made eye contact with me that held no note of anger. I almost didn’t recognize him. “The one I was born in. Hayop. I’m still recognized as royalty by my family and the people. I think you might like to see where I grew up. It’s much different from here, but there’s a charm to it. I actually haven’t been back in years.”
“Sure, we can do that. I mean, none of it’s really up to me, but I think it’s great you want to go home for a bit. Makes sense. You’ve been totally uprooted for months.”
“Uprooted?” He bypassed the pop, the light-your-hair-on-fire punchbowl, and poured himself some water from the tap.
“Yeah. You’ve been in my world, sleeping on the couch, on the floor, sharing a bed with two other people. It’s gotta be exhausting. You need a familiar place to rest your head every now and then. I’d love to see the lucky place that had you in it for a couple decades. I bet it’s real nice.”
He stared at me, confused, and then placed his cup on the counter without drinking a drop. “I don’t get it. You’re being sweet to me. Why?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve always been decent to you. Just because you underwent a personality change doesn’t mean I did. I get why you’re crabby. You’re frustrated, and nothing here’s solely yours. I’d be crabby too if I felt constantly displaced. Why do you think I hate staying at Ezra’s?”
“I guess I never gave it much thought. I’m doing the job. It’s fine.”
“But clearly it’s not. You’re unhappy.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “How can we fix that?”
“Why do you care if I’m happy?”
I cocked my head to the side. “Seriously? Before it all hit the fan between us, we were starting to become friends. I care if my friends are happy, especially when they take it out on me when they’re not.” I blinked up at him, confused. “Did you really think I wanted you to suffer? I broke for you when Geon’s men did what they did to you. I did everything I could to get us out of there, and I still failed you. I failed Von, too. I’d do just about anything to make you happy again – to give you back a little of yourself.”
Mason scratched the top of his head. I could tell he was still unsettled by his short hair. “I guess I have been sort of mean to you. I’m not trying to take everything out on you, but maybe that’s what I’ve been do
ing.”
“I get it. You’ve been through a lot. You need a break, Mason. How about we order you a bed for the spare bedroom? Would that feel better? Give you some space that you could make your own? I mean, it’s not like Allie’s going to be using that room. I can move the desk out easy enough.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Through his protest, I could see the light in his eyes at the prospect of not sharing a bed with two other people, one of whom he hadn’t quite sorted out yet.
“If it would make you happy, I’ll get out Allie’s old bedframe and mattress in the morning. I might take me a trip to the store, too. Most of Allie’s sheets were pink. Maybe you’d like to pick your own?” I rubbed the stress out of my forehead. “I’m sorry, Mason. I should’ve thought of that sooner. Totally self-involved of me. What else do you want? Maybe a dog bed, too, in case you want to wolf out.”
He looked relieved, his hand on his toned stomach and a hint of a smile on his handsome face. “No, no. The regular bed’s more than enough. Thank you. And on days we go reaping, I’ll be sure to sleep with you two so we can do a double pulling while we’re asleep.”
“Are you kidding me? It’s the least I can do. You’re only in this mess because of me. It’s my fault they cut your hair. It’s because of me you’re always looking over your shoulder.” I shook my head at the unbidden emotion that threatened to choke my throat at the too public admission of all the things I loathed myself for.
“It’s not because of you. It’s just life.”
I shook my head, ignoring the pulsing music blaring from the living room. “I took away your strength, your wife and your dream zombie-slaying home. You’re the first Viking I ever met, and I broke your whole life. I can’t think of a worse crime.” And I’d done it all, hoping he’d kiss me, wishing I could be captivating enough that someone so wild would want me to fight and laugh next to him. “I’m sorry, Mason. For all of it.”
Mason’s eyes were unbearably sad as he studied my face, looking at me without the note of frustration in his eyes I’d grown accustomed to. I missed that look. “Hani, it’s not your fault.”
I shrugged. “We both know it is.” We shared too many words through our connected gaze, so I turned away and headed for the living room to take a breather. I truly had wrecked Mason’s life. He was a happy zombie killer before I’d met him. He was Bruce Campbell in action, and I’d ruined his whole world.
I broke my own personal Bruce Campbell.
Then I made Mason think about his dead wife, got him kidnapped, shaved and humiliated. I’d ruined what he’d loved about his life, and he had to stare me in the face every morning, protect me and give his freedom up for me. I was the worst kind of person. After the stone business was squared away, Mason would still be stuck with me in a normal, uneventful life. My idea of Heaven was the Brady Bunch, but he’d had his Heaven in Sombi, and had been forced to give it up for me. I’d unwittingly domesticated my favorite Viking. I couldn’t think of a punishment severe enough for that.
“October? Wait!” Mason called, but I ignored him. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, for fear of breaking it all more. My eyes fell to the filled couch, scanning the room for a place to sit where I could disappear in the crowd, but still appear as if I was good at being social.
Von’s relaxed and cocky smirk wasn’t aimed at me, but was engaged with Katrina, who was sitting atop his lap on the couch. She was wearing her purple mini skirt and a gold shimmery halter top that was about two sizes too small, ensuring no man could look at her without being reminded she was a solid D-cup.
Von’s smile didn’t touch his eyes, but his hand was sure as Sunday touching the inside of her thigh. Her fingers were toying with his shirt collar, and she was laughing at something he said that had to have been hilarious, judging by the animated cackle of hers that shook her perky breasts in his face. She leaned down and whispered in his ear in a warmup-for-sex way that made me feel a slight bit sick to my stomach.
Now I knew what Mason had been trying to shield me from seeing.
32
Playing Dirty
It was fine. Why wouldn’t it be fine? Something childish started warring inside of me. I felt gross, horrified that I’d sat on Von’s lap like a groupie in the car. I wasn’t his girlfriend, and he certainly didn’t belong to me. Von had every right to rest his hand on Katrina’s thigh. They’d hooked up a few times already. Katrina was his age, and moved at the same fast pace he did.
I could feel my heartbeat in my cheeks. I had never felt more like the kid they all addressed me as. It was obvious, and I couldn’t believe how much I didn’t see it until that moment. I was twenty-two, and Von was almost thirty. My hands had scars and scabs from fighting too much. Katrina wore two gold rings and had her nails perfectly manicured. I was a kid sitting on Santa’s lap, and Katrina was the sex kitten playing the game as an equal.
I knew all of this. Didn’t I?
I felt hot all over, flushed from the inside out. I took a few steps back, looking for an easy exit. Mason’s hand on my shoulder spooked me, but it was Beto’s familiar voice that paused my flight. “Hey, kid. We were thinking of setting up,” he motioned to the kitchen table that had an empty seat around it. “Want to play? I think it’s time they lifted the ban on you.”
Beto’s hand was in Jessica’s, and she smiled at me meekly, knowing good and well she’d started up with Beto long before we had ended things. I had every right to be pissed at the both of them, but the three of us all knew I didn’t have it in me to nurse a grudge for very long. “Poker? Um, I don’t know.”
Ollie slung his arm around my shoulder, interrupting the awkward conversation to whisper in my ear, “I had a little talk with Von. Turns out you were right, he’s not interested. Just a hopeless flirt. He’ll tone it down around you.”
The heat in my cheeks was washed out by the ice in my veins. I felt like someone had come up and dumped a bucket of cold, harsh reality over my head, drenching me with chagrin and regret. Of course Von didn’t want me for anything other than someone to pal around with. I’d said from the beginning that we were just friends. He was starting to become my closest confidant, and I was pissed at Ollie for calling me out on my sore spots. I shrugged out of Ollie’s half embrace and aimed him in Gabby’s direction. “Go be overbearing elsewhere. Of course he’s just flirting because I have boobs and a pulse. I never thought it was anything else.”
“You game for a game?” Beto asked, immune to my nerves. Beto no doubt thought he was smoothing things over between us, forcing us to be friends to make Jessica happy and to put some sort of closure on it all. “I won’t take no for an answer.” He steered me toward the table and pulled out a chair.
Jordan groaned in defeat, pausing his shuffle before he dealt the cards. “Man! I thought Bait was banned from poker. We all know she counts cards. And cheats. She’s a poker witch with magical witchy powers.”
Beto’s unwelcome hand on the small of my back spooked me forward, edging me toward the chair. I sat down, making sure I had a polite smile in place before I picked up the cards Jordan dealt me with his dramatic frown. We only ever played for quarters. I don’t know what he was being such a sore pre-loser about.
Mason took the chair next to me, not touching his cards and looking around the cramped table at the five people he didn’t know. “How do you play?” he asked.
Jordan’s eyebrows rose at the prospect of possibly winning a few hands, now that there was a newbie in the mix. “You’ve never played poker before? You’re Ollie’s friend. How’s that possible?”
“I’m October’s friend,” Mason corrected Jordan. “We work together.”
A conspiratorial light dawned in Jordan’s eyes. “Ah, I see. We’ve never met a work friend of Bait’s before. Welcome, welcome.” He tossed me a grin filled with innuendo. “I knew it wouldn’t take long for someone to snatch you up once you and Beto moved on from your non-relationship. Now look at the two of you, sitting around the table playing po
ker. You realize Beto’s the only reason you’re allowed to play tonight.” He cast Mason a conspiratorial look. “She cheats.”
I harrumphed, trying to scrub the image of Von and Katrina out of my mind. “Counting cards isn’t cheating. Any of you are welcome to do the same.”
Jordan waved off my protest. “Tell me – Mason, is it? Do you think Bait will let you call her your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Mason shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.
Jordan snapped his fingers, a wicked smile on his curved lips. “See? You’ve got him trained already. Well done, Bait.” He turned to Mason. “You a medical guy, or one of the guards?”
“He’s a guard,” I answered succinctly before any lies had to be told. “You ready to lose?” I asked, sitting back in my chair. “I think I’m going to make myself a little pile right here of all your quarters, Jordan.”
“Dream on, Bait. The last time you took us down better be a good memory. Tonight I take all your chips, kid. Now both your non-boyfriends get to watch you lose. Shame. Utter shame.”
I wished I had the magical ability to melt into the floor, but no such power came to me. “Shut up, Jordan. I know what you’re doing.”
Mason shifted next to me, frowning at Jordan. “I don’t think he knows what he’s doing.”
I waved off Jordan’s grin at getting my goat. “It’s part of the game. He’s trying to rile me up so I’m easier to read. Ignore him. Here. You’ve never played before, so watch my hand and learn the game. This is part of it. Just like me telling everyone Jordan’s beer bottle’s filled with pop. He likes to act like he’s getting drunk a few hands in so we think he’ll play poorly and we’ll raise prematurely, but he’s totally on his game.” I smirked at Jordan’s guffaw. “Not that he’s got game.”
“You suck, Bait.”
Jordan turned to Beto, who was sitting on my other side. Jessica was rubbing her stellar boyfriend’s shoulders as she stood behind him. “Hope Jessica’s not as evil as your last girl, Beto.”
Tempt (Terraway Book 4) Page 17
