by Amy Brown
“I feel better with you here,” he says quietly.
I have no idea how to respond to that. Part of me wants to tell him to fuck off, but the other side of me wants to help him. Comfort him. “You deserve what you got,” I say finally.
I expect him to scowl and drop my hand, but instead he says, “I know.”
Surprised at his response, I narrow my eyes. Knowing him, he’s just playing me as usual. “You admit you’re an asshole?”
It takes him a minute to speak, but then he says hesitantly, “I want certain things. I have to do what I have to do to get them. You call that being an asshole.”
“That’s despicable. You don’t see anything wrong with that?”
His gaze flickers. “It’s not a simple answer.”
“Yes it is. There is good and evil, and you choose which side you’re on.”
“No.” He shakes his head, and then winces. Through gritted teeth he continues, “There’s a gray area, and that’s where I live.”
I pull my hand from his. “There is no gray area, that’s just something evil people tell themselves.”
Mom comes back at that moment. “I couldn’t find an ice pack, I used a plastic bag. Hopefully that works as well as a sock.” She hands the bag to Mason.
“Thank you,” he says, taking the bag and pressing it to his swollen cheek.
“You never answered about whether or not you took medicine.” Mom hovers.
“I haven’t had anything since last night.”
“It will help with the pain and swelling.” She goes into his bathroom, and returns with a bottle of ibuprofen. She shakes out two tablets, and hands them to him. He has a bottle of water next to his bed, he sits up slightly, and once he’s swallowed the pills, he lays back down.
“Thank you.” His voice is hushed.
Mom glances at her watch. “I need to pick Luke up from chess club.”
I stand, and address Mason. “Would you like me to call your mom, and ask her to come home early?”
“No.” His eyes are emotionless.
“It’s only 4 o’clock. You said she won’t be home till much later?” Mom looks anxious. I know her well enough to realize that she hates the idea of Mason being alone all that time. “If you take a turn for the worse, no one will be here to help you.”
“I’ll just call 911,” he says softly.
“Not if you’re unconscious, you won’t,” I mutter.
Mom gives another worried glance at her watch. “I’m going to be late getting Luke.” She flicks her gaze to me. “Would you want to stay with Mason? Just until his mom gets home?”
Frustration flutters through me. “No.” Not counting how much I dislike Mason, I’ve been at school all day and I just want to go home.
Mom looks surprised. She has no idea that I’m at war with Mason. All she knows of him is he helped me study. She thinks we’re friends, she even hoped we’d date. If she knew the truth about him, she’d feel differently, but she’s blissfully in the dark.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Mason grouses. “I’m fine alone.”
“Honey, you refuse to be checked out. That’s worrisome. You should have a MRI or a CT scan. Concussions are very dangerous.” Mom has a stubborn set to her jaw as she faces me. “Charity, I’m asking nicely, please stay with Mason, until his mom returns home. I’ll come get you then.”
This is fucking ridiculous. Of all the people in the world to play nurse to Mason, I should be the last candidate. “Mom, he doesn’t even want me to stay,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Since when do we let the patient dictate their care?” She laughs.
“When did I become a nurse?” I scowl.
“My goodness, Charity. You’re not a very caring friend.” She looks embarrassed as she meets Mason’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Mason. I thought I raised her better.”
For fuck’s sake.
Mason looks as uncomfortable as me about how this is going. “It’s fine. I’m fine alone.”
The look Mom shoots me makes my stomach hurt. I don’t want her disappointed in me as a person, simply because she’s clueless about why I don’t feel compelled to stay with Mason. It’s my fault for keeping her in the dark. Of course she thinks I’m being a horrible friend right now.
“Fine,” I say softly. “I… I just have a lot of homework.” Hopefully she’ll buy my lame excuse.
Mom brightens. “Really? You’ll stay?”
I force a smile. “We wouldn’t want Mason to die of a brain hemorrhage, now would we?”
Mom looks confused by my response, but she must decide not to worry about it. “Okay, I feel much better now. I would worry all evening if you were alone, Mason.”
He grimaces. “It’s really unnecessary.”
“Nonsense. You’re just saying that because Charity was grumpy at first.” She moves to the door. “Text me when Mason’s mom comes home, Charity. I’ll come get you.”
“Okay.” Is this really happening? I’m stuck playing nurse to Mason?
Once she leaves, and I hear the front door close, I turn to him. He watches me with a wary expression. While I realize it’s not his fault Mom is overly protective, I have plenty of other reasons to be angry with him.
“Sorry,” he says.
I groan and sit on the end of the bed. “She thinks you’re charming. She doesn’t know you.”
He shifts the bag of ice, and pain ripples over his swollen features. It reminds me that he really is injured. He could actually have a concussion. Just because he drives me insane, that doesn’t mean he’s immune to things like brain injuries.
I sigh. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you.” His jaw is clenched, and I know he’s in pain. Sweat is on his brow again, and his breathing is uneven. “I’m just really tired.”
I seem to remember when you suspect a concussion, you shouldn’t let people sleep for long periods of time. But sleep itself isn’t bad. “You should nap. I’ll check on you in an hour to be sure you’re okay.”
“Promise you won’t just let me sleep so I die?” He isn’t joking. He sounds like a scared little boy.
I move closer to him, drawn by how pitiful he sounds. “I don’t actually want you dead.”
“Sure about that?”
“Yes.”
He groans, and shifts on to his side. The ice bag slips onto the bed, and I retrieve it. His jaw is hard, and he whimpers very softly.
“You should keep the ice on the swelling,” I say.
“I don’t have the energy to hold it.” His eyes are closed, and he looks miserable.
Feeling conflicted, I move up to lie beside him, facing him. He’s so out of it, he doesn’t even realize I’m there at first. When I set the bag gently on his cheek, he jumps and opens his eyes. I hold his gaze, and he slowly relaxes.
“Sleep. I’ll hold the ice for you.”
He stretches his hand out and touches a strand of my hair. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Go to sleep,” I say gruffly.
He sighs. “Not easy with you so close to me.”
“Are you actually hitting on me right now?” I ask incredulously.
He wrinkles his brow. “No.”
“Then stop talking.”
He’s quiet for a second, then his lips twitch. “If I was hitting on you, would it work?”
“No. You look like Frankenstein.”
His breathing deepens, and I assume he’s asleep. But then he says softly, “Did your dad really just abandon you?”
I stiffen. “What?” Why in the world is he thinking about that stuff right now?
“You said he ran out on you guys, but that’s so hard to believe.”
“You think I’m lying?”
He opens his eyes. “No. That’s not what I mean. I… I just mean, it’s hard to imagine a man could do that to his kids. It’s so hurtful and damaging. I feel awful thinking about it.”
“Selfish people only care about themselves.”
&n
bsp; His gaze is guilty. “You mean people like me.” It’s not a question.
“You’re definitely selfish.”
A red flush travels under the purple bruised skin of his face. “My dad taught me that you’re either the taker, or the taken.”
“Jesus, that’s horrible. Did he drill that into you instead of reading you bedtime stories?” What kind of philosophy is that to indoctrinate your kid with? No wonder Mason has no soul.
“He wanted me prepared for the world. He doesn’t believe in sugar coating things. I think he’s right though. If you’re not doing the taking, you’re probably the victim. Dads not a warm and fuzzy kind of parent, but he means well.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“No.”
I roll my eyes. “Poor little rich boy, fighting for his place in the world.”
Frustration glints in his eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Good, because you don’t deserve pity. You’re pampered, entitled, and you think you’re better than everybody else.”
He presses his lips tight, wincing. “If you’re just going to insult me, you should go.”
“I would, but I don’t want you to die,” I grumble.
“Why not? Sounds like the world would be a better place without me.” His expression is sulky.
“I will not feel sorry for you.”
“Haven’t we established that already?”
I scowl. “Then why are you saying any of this?”
“I was trying to tell you I’m sorry your dad was such an asshole, Charity. I was trying to explain why I’m the way I am.” He clenches his jaw. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” He rolls over, facing the other way.
I’m left holding the ice bag, and staring at his broad back. I sit up on my elbow, and scoot closer. “Don’t throw a tantrum. I can’t help you if you get all pissy.”
“Go away.”
“Where would I go? My mom has to pick me up, remember?”
“Go watch TV downstairs or something. We have every channel in the world.”
Now that he wants me to go, I feel determined to stay. If that doesn’t sum up our bizarre relationship, I don’t know what does. He says black, I say white. He says up, I say down. I press against his back, and I gently place the ice pack on his swollen face. “Be quiet, Mason. I’m taking care of you whether you like it or not.”
“Suit yourself,” he mutters.
I rest my chin on his shoulder, breathing a sigh of relief. I hate admitting it, but I feel better now that I’m curled against his warm, hard body. I slip one arm around his waist protectively. I ignore the voice in my head telling me I’m insane to care about him. After all, he’s hurt, and taking care of him is the right thing to do.
I just won’t be foolish enough to expect Mason to return the favor.
Chapter Thirteen
Mason
I should never have tried to connect with Charity on a personal level. She doesn’t want to understand me. She has no desire to feel for me. Of course she can’t see me as anything but a monster.
A monster she likes to have sex with.
She’s trying to comfort me, and it’s wonderful with her arm around me. The problem is, I’m insatiable where she’s concerned. My face is literally swollen and aching from seeking her out last night. I paid a steep price for the taste I had of her at the party, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I want more of her already. The press of her breasts on my back makes everything in me scream to roll her over and fuck her.
Lying here, I can’t help but think of all the times I’ve had her in this bed. Images of her with her pale thighs spread, coming with my dick inside her, fill my brain. I love the way she gasps, and then shudders when she comes. Like she’s surprised every time by how good it feels.
I need sleep, but my dick is so hard, it’s painful. I’m in no condition to have sex, but my body doesn’t seem to understand that. I shift restlessly, trying to relieve the pressure in my underwear. I don’t want Charity to know what a freak I am. Even beat up, I’m lusting after her. She’d probably laugh at me if she knew.
I’m so exhausted, I finally doze off at one point. I dream of sex, and Charity stars in every fantasy. When I wake up, I’m so hard it’s ridiculous. My body aches, and I’m dying of thirst.
“How do you feel?” Charity asks softly.
Without thinking, I say, “Horny.”
I expect her to move away and tell me what a pig I am, but she surprises me by laughing. “I wondered. You were making some funny noises in your sleep.”
My face is hot and I wince. “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I smirk. “No. It’s yours.”
She sits up, and when I glance at her over my shoulder, she’s frowning. “My fault?”
“Yeah.”
Understanding seems to dawn on her face, and she twists her lips. “Oh.”
I roll onto my back, and, embarrassed about my bulging crotch, I grab a throw pillow and hide my erection. She laughs, and shakes her head. “Guys are always horny.”
“Not all girls do this to me.”
“Right. I’m sure.” Her expression is skeptical.
I sigh. “Think what you want. I don’t have the energy to argue.” My mouth is as dry as straw, and I shoot a longing glance at the bottle of water on the nightstand.
She notices, and grabs it for me. She hands it to me and I finish the bottle off, then I hand her the empty. “Shall I go get you another?”
“Is that okay?”
“Of course.” She climbs off the bed and leaves the room.
I wiggle into a sitting position, and when she returns, I drink another bottle of water. She was thoughtful enough to bring me three. I watch her as she settles on the edge of the bed. “Thanks for bringing my homework over.”
She shrugs. “Maybe we should go over it while I’m here.”
My head’s better, but not up to homework. “I don’t think I’ll tackle that until tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” She runs her hand over the top of my comforter, plucking at a loose thread. She seems deep in thought, and that allows me to study her. When she looks up suddenly, I look away quickly.
I clear my throat. “That little nap helped a lot. My head feels better.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Grimacing, I say, “It’s not like you made a secret of not wanting to stay.”
She squints at me. “I have valid reasons for not wanting to be around you.”
“I know.” What’s the point of arguing? She has a million reasons to hate me, we both know it.
Charity’s face tenses, and she says, “I wanted to talk to you.”
“What about?”
She’s uneasy, but she still meets my gaze head on. “Well, I wanted to ask you to rethink that threat you made against Luke.”
I groan. “Charity, come on. Why are you bringing that up now?”
She winces at my groan, but doesn’t back down. “Because I’m almost out of time, and I don’t want to leave Longhorn, but I really don’t want you to hurt Luke.”
I study her, feeling annoyed.
She continues, “If we just ignore each other, and I promise not to cause trouble for you and The Elites, why can’t you just leave me alone? You can have what you want, without hurting me or my brother.”
It’s obvious she just doesn’t get it. My life will never go back to normal with Charity around. I can’t ignore her. I just can’t. I got my ass kicked last night because my need for her makes me fucking stupid. I got shunned because of her. I turn into a drooling moron around her. I’m weak where she’s concerned, and the longer I’m around her, the more I realize that will never change unless she’s just gone.
I harden my gaze. “Is that why you agreed to stay with me? So you could petition me for mercy?”
Her face flinches. “Why should I have to petition you? Are you that heartless you can’t see what you’re threatening i
s unscrupulous?”
“We’ve been over this already. I’m not doing this because I like it. This is self-preservation. You’re very presence threatens my way of life.”
“Why? I’m telling you I’ll back off. I’ll fall on my sword. I’ll let the kids think I’m a coward and skulk away. Just leave Luke alone, and don’t make me transfer to Pine View.” She moves closer, her eyes pleading. “Please, Mason. I don’t even care if you guys bully me, just don’t hurt Luke, and let me stay at Longhorn.”
My eyes sting because I want to give her what she wants, but if I do, it will be torture for me. Maybe she can ignore me, but I’m fucking consumed with her. I can’t just pretend she isn’t around if she is. I’ll notice every guy she looks at, and I’ll hear her laughter across the school. Charity Ballard is a full blown obsession for me, and I’m incapable of staying away from her, if she’s in my vicinity. She damages my mental and emotional health. She’s like a sickness.
“Stop asking me to change my mind,” I growl. “I can’t give you the answer you want.”
“Why not?” She clenches her fists. “You’d win and I’d lose. Everyone would know you won. What does it matter to you if I’m still around, so long as I don’t bother you?”
“Because you being around does bother me,” I hiss, grabbing her wrist.
She holds my gaze, looking uncertain. “I don’t understand why.”
I let go of her, and close my eyes. “You don’t need to understand anything. Just do as I ask, and Luke will be fine.” I open my eyes, and find her watching me with a murderous expression.
Her eyes flash with menace. “I’ve made friends. I like my teachers. You’re screwing with things you don’t need to screw with. My life could be so good, if it wasn’t for you.”
“Same.”
She stands, and moves to the door. “I don’t care what my mom says, I can’t stay here with you.”
“I’ll live.”
She presses her lips tight, looking angry and confused. “I hate you, Mason. I hate you so much it hurts.”
“Yeah? Well, I wish I’d never met you, Charity.” I hold her gaze, feeling sick. “I think it fucked us both up.”
Her eyes are as icy blue as the arctic ocean. “You don’t matter to me enough to ruin my life. I won’t let you.”