by Tijan
“I was a nobody.”
He started to protest, but I kept going, shaking my head.
“No. I know you’re going to say I wasn’t, but I was. I wasn’t even popular at my own school. I had two best friends, a boyfriend, a mom, and a dad. That’s it. Then I lost everyone in the same week. You and Logan didn’t have to do anything for me. You didn’t even need to be nice to me, but you were. You were kind and supportive, and you guys made me one of yours.”
“We weren’t that nice. You’re giving us more credit than we deserve. I stayed back from a party so I could grill you about you and your mom. That wasn’t me being nice. That was me being an asshole.”
“That was you looking out for yourself and your brother. My mom and I invaded your house. I expected you to hate me in the beginning.” But I’d never felt that from them. Never hate. “Why didn’t you hate me?”
“Why would I?” He leaned back, resting on his hands.
I was still curled up on his lap, but I sat further upright to hold myself steady.
He shrugged. “I hated my dad. I didn’t particularly like your mom, but I never hated you. You didn’t do anything. You were just collateral damage like Logan and me. Now, if you had started to do things, then maybe I might’ve started to dislike you.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, and his hand lingered on my cheek. “I don’t even hate your mom. After all the shit she did to you, I seriously dislike her, but I don’t hate her. I can’t. She brought me you, and a part of me is thankful to her for that.”
I pressed a fist to his chest, just holding it there. “Any other guy, and that would sound like the cheesiest line ever. But you.” I gently tapped him with that fist. “You, and I’m almost swooning.”
“Yeah?” His grin deepened, his eyes warm and loving. They darkened into something more, and he sat back up. His arms came to circle me, but he kept them loose. His thumb rubbed back and forth on my thigh. “Look.” He sounded so serious. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but as long as you’re not going to leave me, I’m not too worried about it. I think Taylor was right. I just think you’re processing something, and you’ll come out the other end better. Stronger. And things are kinda weird right now, since we’re engaged, but kinda not engaged at the same time. Almost everything’s come full circle, you know? You got both your dads. You got Malinda as a mom. Heather is a good best friend—and that’s saying a lot from me—and Taylor seems cool. Plus, Logan’s finally your official stepbrother now. And you got Mark. You got everything you lost, and then some. You and me, I figure we’re the icing on the cake.” His eyes sparkled. “Right?”
“When you put it like that . . .” I teased. The lump was dissipating. “I think you’re right. Everything will be fine.”
He nodded. “Damn straight, Strattan.”
“Strattan?” I arched my eyebrows. “We’ve moved to last names now?”
“Fuck yeah.” His hands tightened, and he pulled me closer. He leaned toward me, and I knew those lips were going to rest on mine in seconds.
“When I’m deep inside you tonight, I want to hear you scream my name,” he murmured, his breath caressing me. “We’re that kind of last names to each other.”
I laughed because that didn’t make sense, but I don’t think he cared. I didn’t either, and then his lips were on mine and the laughter turned into a moan.
So many sensations flooded me, and soon he was inside of me, and I was screaming his name. I hoped this, like everything else, would never ever go away.
Glass shattered.
Thump!
Then complete silence.
I jerked upright in bed. Mason sat up with me, and I looked at the clock to see it was around four in the morning. He slid out of bed without a sound and reached for his phone. He handed it over, and as he did, we heard another sound. It was like someone shuffling, then another thump.
“Fuck.”
My eyes found Mason’s. That word was whispered, but we both heard it, and it hadn’t come from either of us. Someone else was in the house.
He mouthed, “Nine-one-one.”
I nodded, lifted the phone with trembling hands, and expelled a silent breath. I had to close my eyes for a second, just to steady myself. When I opened them, Mason was at the door. I reached out for him. My heart was pounding. I didn’t want him to go, but I couldn’t stop him, not unless I made sounds. And I couldn’t—then the intruder would know we’d heard him.
As Mason slipped out the door, tiptoeing down the hallway, I moved to the edge of the bed and stepped into the closet. I shut the door and dialed the numbers.
My heart was almost deafening, and I barely heard the operator answer my call.
“What is your emergency?”
I whispered, “Someone broke into our house.”
“Where are you?”
I gave her the address, my name, and Mason’s name. I told her everything I knew. I didn’t know if Nate was home. I didn’t know if Logan and Taylor were here. She told me to stay on the phone and stay in the closet.
That was when I hung up.
I wasn’t leaving Mason alone. I silenced the phone and put it in my pocket. Mason had held something in his hand when he left. I didn’t know if it was a weapon, but I suddenly wished I’d agreed to take gun safety class when Logan suggested it. I didn’t like guns.
My thoughts were changing.
My hands shook. I was sweating, but so cold at the same time. Fear choked me, but the thought of never seeing Mason again was worse. It propelled me forward until I saw him poised by the front closet. It was close to the stairs, and as I heard a third thump from upstairs, I realized it was the closest place he could stand without being seen.
I edged out into the living room, but Mason saw me. He motioned for me to go back.
Part of me stopped thinking now. Part of me slipped away, no longer standing in that room with him. I was back in the closet, the phone in my hands, the door locked shut. I was safe, and the cops were coming to take the bad guy away.
That wasn’t what was really going on, though.
I watched myself as Mason continued to try to get me to go back.
I kept shaking my head. I wouldn’t go.
A fourth thump above us. Footsteps.
Someone left a room, moving into another.
“Shit.”
A second whisper from someone I didn’t know.
My knees began to shake, but they weren’t making noise. Thank goodness. I couldn’t get them to stop. The girl they helped support was frozen in place.
She couldn’t do anything.
Her eyes moved upwards.
The person upstairs was moving again. Whoever it was wasn’t being as quiet anymore.
Drawers opened.
Things dropped to the floor.
A door clicked shut, and a different one opened.
A light was flicked on now, then off right away.
Someone was in the bathroom.
They moved back into the hallway.
I could see the thoughts whirling in the girl’s head as I watched myself. Her forehead wrinkled, and she bit her lip. She was biting too hard, she drew blood. She never noticed.
I watched all this, but I couldn’t tell her (myself) to stop.
She’d stopped listening to herself long ago.
The person moved in one bedroom, then the other. Only Logan and Nate had rooms up there. The person walked by the bathroom. The only other door was a closet.
The footsteps continued.
They didn’t stop at the closet.
They were coming down the stairs.
They were coming to where we were—Mason and the frozen girl.
The alert blared inside me, but I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t do anything. Then Mason lifted his hands, and the moonlight glinted off something metal.
A handgun.
He held it, poised with two straight arms and his feet braced. The footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs. Suddenl
y red and blue lit up the room. It was small at first, then brighter and brighter.
Someone above cursed again and started down the stairs.
Everything in me paused. My heart. My breathing. My thoughts. The girl’s eyes were so wide, so frightened, but she couldn’t say anything. Her voice was paralyzed.
Mason’s finger moved as he took off the safety.
Sirens broke through the girl’s fear. She could hear the cops coming closer and closer. It was no longer just a colorful landscape. They’d parked. They were on the other side of the door. She heard another type of running. The kind that was coming to help. Those feet sounded different than the intruder’s. The footsteps were fast, but sturdy. The others had been accidental, then less tentative, and finally filled with the assuredness that they were alone in this house.
But that was wrong.
It all happened in one second. Mason was braced against the closet door. The cops would burst into the house, and the front door would hit him. The intruder was coming down the stairs and would be right there, right in the spotlight as the cops barged in.
If Mason shot, it might be self-defense.
If the cops shot—well, they might not need to.
Sam had to do something. I had to do something.
Summoning all the strength inside of me, I burst out of my paralysis. I stopped my knees from shaking, my hands from trembling. I was suddenly right here. I felt the chill in the room; I rode the upper crest of the feeling that something wrong was about to happen, something that would change lives.
“Mason, don’t!” My voice finally ripped from its prison.
The intruder froze on the stairs, whirling to me, then looking for Mason.
He cursed.
The cops banged on the door. “POLICE!”
Mason thumbed the safety back on. He locked eyes with the intruder, and both sprang into action.
Mason tossed the gun to me, launching himself forward.
The intruder tried to jump over the bannister, so he would land right where I stood.
I caught the gun as the two crashed into each other.
The door burst open.
Guns, lights, and yells filled the room as four cops rushed forward. Two grabbed Mason and hauled him backward.
“He lives here!” I yelled.
The other two cops grabbed the intruder and slammed him against the wall.
“Sam!” Mason bucked against the cop’s hold.
I looked down and realized I had the gun. I slipped it inside my pocket. The weight sagged my pajama pants, so I scrambled and tightened the drawstring, tying it so it couldn’t budge.
“I’m fine,” I called out, my voice cracking.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I kept repeating that in my head.
I wasn’t fine.
“Let me go. She’s scared.”
One police officer nodded, and the other released Mason. He rushed over to me. I was caught up in his arms, and we both turned to watch.
The cops turned the light on, and one pulled off the intruder’s ski mask.
“Adam?!”
This is insane.
I kept shaking my head, thinking that. It was insane. Adam Quinn broke into our house, and not even our house in Fallen Crest. He drove to Cain, found out where we lived, and then broke into this house. Why? That was the big question. He told the cops it was a good-natured prank.
Mason and I had changed into our clothes now, and the police were still questioning Adam in our living room. He was able to look over at Mason and say, “Right, Mason? We’re in a big prank war. That’s all it was.”
The asshole wanted us to cover for him.
I was about to say hell no, but Mason took my hand to stop me.
“Yeah. Just a really stupid prank. That’s it.”
The cop lowered his notepad. “You don’t want to press charges?”
Mason shook his head, just slightly. “No.” He stared right at Adam, his eyes almost calm, but there was a dangerous aura coming from him. I felt shivers down my spine. Mason had something planned for Adam, but he wasn’t going through legal channels to do it.
“Hey!”
We heard a commotion and raised voices from the front door.
“Mason!” Logan was there, waving. The police stationed in front of the house were holding him back. “I live here. Tell ’em so I can come in.”
“So we can come in.” Nate popped his head out from behind Logan. “I’m here too.”
“Yeah.” Mason turned to the cop holding the notepad. “That’s my brother and my best friend. They live here too.”
The cop narrowed his eyes, then gestured upstairs with his pad. “Their rooms are the ones upstairs?”
“Yeah.”
The cop looked at Adam as he said, “The rooms this guy was searching in.” He let out a sigh, putting his notepad back in his pocket. “What do you wager those two guys don’t have any idea about this ‘prank war’ you’re in? You went through their stuff. I wonder if they’ll want to press charges?”
Adam just closed his eyes and folded his head down. He was dressed for the part, in a black long-sleeve shirt and black pants. He’d had a flashlight with him too, but the cops confiscated it, along with his ski mask.
The cop waved for Logan and Nate to come in. Taylor came with them, holding Logan’s hand. Logan went right to Adam, his jaw clenched.
“What the fuck, Quinn?! I could’ve been here. Taylor could’ve been here.”
Adam opened his eyes and held his hands up in surrender. He shot Mason a look. “It was a prank. That’s it.”
Logan snorted. “Right. Because we’re in one big fucking prank war, huh? My ass, a prank war.” But he looked at Mason. “Were you aware of this prank war?”
Mason half-grinned. “I was. Not telling you was part of it.”
Logan shook his head. “That was the best part, right?” He was laughing, but his eyes were dark with anger and his tone was biting. He sent Adam another glare as he tugged Taylor away.
The cops said they had a few questions for Logan and Nate, but they had them both look through their rooms first. Taylor went too, since she half-lived here. When they were done, and hadn’t noticed anything missing, they convened in the kitchen to talk to the police, and Mason went over next to Adam on the couch. I moved with him, but kept a little farther away. Mason’s arms were crossed over his chest and he spoke low, so the cop left in the living room couldn’t hear him.
“What the fuck were you doing?”
Adam eyed the police warily. “Can we wait till they leave? I’ll tell you everything then.”
