His Pawn (The Manhattan Tales Book 1)

by Thorne, Willa

  “Ms. Pryor,” Mason warned, egging me to tell the truth. He seemed convinced that he was more than I could handle.

  “Mr. Woodward,” I retorted. I waited for his warning for my haughty tone, but he said nothing so I added, “I loved every minute of it. I’m not a porcelain doll. I never felt so satiated in my life.” I always knew he was holding back from me, and that was understandable because I had been inexperienced but… that was weeks ago… The air suddenly seemed to shift as I said this.

  “Very good, Jilly Bean. I’ll see you tonight then,” There was something tender, yet dark in his tone. Then the line was empty. My heart accelerated at the desire in his voice.

  My phone vibed again and I looked down, expecting Mason to be calling me again with instructions, but instead, it was Elyse. I answered immediately.

  “Hey,” I answered with a grin.

  “Hey girl, guess what!” She was giddy with excitement.

  “What is it?” I asked as I leafed through my seemingly endless wardrobe.

  “Oh, I can’t tell you over the phone. I want to tell you in person. What are you doing today?”

  “I have classes today. Are you working today?” I asked as I picked out a plum colored silk top.

  “I go in at four,” she answered. “My hours got cut again but that’s not my news. I can meet you on the campus.”

  “Alright. Meet me by the library around two, because I have to get some research for an economics paper.”

  “What’s it about? Just interview your sugar daddy for his input,” Elyse responded with a snarky tone. I dropped the boots I’d been holding when she said that.

  “Elyse!” I gasped. “He is NOT my sugar daddy!” I had to lower my voice because I knew Mrs. O’Malley could have heard that.

  “Relajate, chica. I was only joking,” she laughs.

  “You’re hilarious,” I answered drily. If she only knew…

  “I’ll see you at two. I gotta go!”

  ****

  I went through the usual Tuesday routine that I had fallen into since starting my new semester. At two sharp, I found Elyse walking through the university library doors. I grinned from the wooden table I’d been sitting at and waved to her. She speed walked toward me with a huge grin plastered on her face. I always loved seeing that smile.

  “So?” I asked as she plopped down beside me at the table.

  She beamed and waved a paper in my face. I took the paper and looked down at it. It was a receipt from the university registrar with a class schedule.

  “I’m back in school!” She tossed her black hair over her shoulder. “My dad convinced me when I got the acceptance letter. I told you he was trying to push me into finishing what I started. He agreed to co sign on the loans so I could go back. ”

  “So that’s the real reason you claimed school wasn’t your deal,” I arched a brow. “Money.”

  She shrugged. “That and motivation… I felt stuck in a rut. I didn’t say anything right away because I felt intrusive when he co signed the loan… it felt really weird at first.”

  “I can understand that,” I answered. I thought about Mason’s contract. Do I ever...

  “My major is journalism,” she beamed, staring down at her course schedule. “Maybe someday I can get a job with the Times or some popular magazine. I’ll write about anything if they just give me a job!”

  “I thought you wanted to open a community center with me someday?” I grinned.

  “I think my articles will eventually bring awareness to the need for community centers, helping kids and families in need…” She looked at me squarely. Wow, she was really passionate about this. I was ecstatic for her. I wrapped my arms around her tightly.

  “I’m so excited for you, Ly.”

  “So how’s your rich stud?” She asked, folding and tucking her registrar papers into her bold red handbag.

  My cheeks flared. “Good, but he’s not my stud. I don’t want to talk about that here.”

  Actually, there was so much I wanted to tell her. I fixated on my textbook, highlighting furiously and not paying attention to what I was actually marking. I couldn’t talk about my dynamics with Mason, even if I wanted to… I tried to give her a confident smile, but I could tell from her scrutinizing stare that she wasn’t buying it. Elyse was too intuitive. At this moment, I felt my phone vibe with a text message, I looked down to see that I had one message from Mason.

  “Ok. I have to go get ready for work. I’ll call you tomorrow. Later, babe.” She shrugged and then tossed me a half-eaten pack of starburst. I grinned at her.

  “Seriously, I want to see your new pad,” she said as she began walking away.

  “I’ll talk to him about it,” I answered, hesitantly. Mason never told me I couldn’t bring anybody over to his home, but I assumed I already knew what his answer would be since I had to sign that confidentiality agreement.

  I watched my best friend walk out of the library, wishing I could confide in her more. Then, I read the message Mason left me, assuming it would be to say he would be home late, but my heart dropped when I read the message.

  Mason: I’m taking a flight to Mumbai tonight. My grandmother passed away. I will be gone a few days.

  I instantly sent him a message.

  I am so sorry for your loss. I am here if you need anything.

  I wanted to tell him that I’d miss him, because I would- badly, but I didn’t know how he’d react to something like that.

  Mason: Don’t be. It will be a boring affair. The best part will be the food.

  My stomach churned at the thought of curry dishes. I enjoyed Indian food almost as much as Mason enjoyed sushi. The one and only time I had tried Indian food was from a run-down takeout restaurant and I spent the night puking in the bathroom from food poisoning. Mason, however, loved the food from his mother’s country.

  I didn’t know whether I should be sorry for Mason or concerned. I know that his text message could have appeared to be insensitive, but he hardly knew his grandmother, and I know he wants little, if nothing, to do with his family. There are several things I know about Mason Woodward’s family. These might be things that most people don’t know, because he never talks about his family or his personal history.

  Even in the few expose’s that journalists have written about their interviews with him, he’s never mentioned his family from India or even from the United Kingdom. He always kept the interviews directly on point with business and company dynamics. I know these things because he has confided in my family in bits and pieces over the years when he was often at our apartment, eating dinner with us.

  I know that Mason’s mother is the daughter of a very influential Marawis native who owns a large textile empire. Her father was a wealthy English businessman who was coaxed into marrying for power and money, just as she would be sent to London to marry Mason’s father for the same reasons. These days, he won’t discuss his family with me at all, but I know not to ask. When I first connected with Mason weeks ago, I thought the broken friendship between him and my brother had something to do with why he’d become so cold and distant.

  The more time I spend with Mason, the more I see that his family, especially his father, has helped to shape the apathetic and detached man he’d become. Over the last few weeks, I’ve often wished he could just step away from all of it and be the Mason I once knew: Genuine, protective, compassionate. I used to trust him with my life.

  I still do…

  ****

  5 years ago…

  “Hey Jilly Bean, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  I looked up from beneath my Chanel frames to see Paisley, Vera, and Hazel staring down at me with sugary sweet smiles. They’d been followers of Nicole Balinski, the mean girl in my private Catholic High School who had made my life a living hell most days. I remembered when she snapped my old, cheap frames in half, and how they all giggled. I’d wanted to keep it all a secret because I was so humiliated.

  I’d gone home, feelin
g sick with grief, and hid in my bedroom, but Mason dragged the truth out of me and took me to buy new designer frames. After that day, Nicole Balinski disappeared from my life for reasons unknown.

  Now, her minions were staring down at me in the school library while I was desperately trying to cram for an exam. They looked so chic with their designer bags, expensive shoes, and perfect hair. Even their stockings must have cost more than my life at that point. I was an outsider, with a few acquaintances, but I secretly wished I was like them.

  “Are you coming to Tucker’s party tonight?” Hazel, the redhead, asked me. She smoothed a perfectly sleek strand of hair over her shoulder and smiled down at me.

  I blinked up at them as I removed my headphones. I loved playing Pink Floyd while I studied.

  “On a school night?” I asked stupidly, knowing that these kids still partied on a Thursday night. Most of these students were given good grades because their parents donated huge sums of money and raised hell if their spawn didn’t receive anything above a B. That was not my life. My brother couldn’t afford those donations, or even those threats. He could barely pay my tuition.

  “Oh my God. You’re right, she’s so cute. We should adopt her,” Vera exclaimed as though she were cooing over a puppy and not an eighteen year old Senior in high school. What?

  “So are you going to be there?” Hazel prompted further.

  “I don’t know. My English lit exam is tomorrow. I really need an A,” I explained hesitantly. I’d wanted these girls to like me for the past three years, and it was the second half of my senior year in High School. Now they wanted to be nice?

  “It’s just a little get-together including a few hot guys. Maybe after, we will give you a makeover. You would look so good with a makeover. You could get the attention of that hot Woodward guy that we see you with sometimes.”

  I scrunched my nose, despite the flutters in my chest at the thought. Ugh. Get a grip. It’s Mason. The older I got, the more I noticed how hot he was. I was a red-blooded teenage girl. It wasn’t just his incredibly good looks that got my hormones going, but his entire demeanor, and the way he carried himself. I tried to convince myself that he was just another brother to me.

  On the day of my eighteenth birthday, I became painfully aware that I’d developed a little crush on him. Alright, it was a big crush. But he had a girlfriend and it was very serious. No. No. No.

  “What are you listening to?” Paisley finally spoke up, fluffing her perfect, dark curls with one manicured hand.

  I glanced down at my headphones, which faintly blasted because I’d never shut off the music. “Dark Side of the Moon.”

  They stared down at me blankly, then exchanged glances with one another that they tried to mask. I’m not stupid. I knew they were silently communicating amongst one another, “What a weirdo.” I tried to ignore it. I needed to try harder. I could still end my High School career being with the in-crowd.

  “Screw the test. I’ll be at the party,” I grinned, removing my headphones from my ears. All three grinned in unison, as though they were one person in three different bodies. It was a little creepy.

  “You can stay over at my mom’s,” Hazel offered. She scribbled her cell phone number down on a paper and I added it to my phone. She gave me the address to the party, which was on Park Avenue.

  I’d never lied to my brother… much. I felt horribly guilty when I phoned him to say that I wouldn’t be home tonight.

  “I’m going to have a study session with my friend, Hazel, and then I’ll stay at her place and go to school with her in the morning,” I explained. I can’t believe I’m doing this…

  “You never mentioned a friend named Hazel. Where does she live?” Travis asked. I could tell he was still at the office from the phones that rang in the background. Sometimes I thought he was bossier than Mason; he’d really influenced my brother in a few ways over the years.

  “Yeah she’s in my English lit class. We have to write essays for the exam and the teacher is an ass,” I explained. This part was true, but I still felt guilty.

  “Give me her number so I can ask who will be home.”

  “What!” My face reddened with fear.

  “I want her number. I want to know if her parents will be home and where you will study.”

  “Travis you cannot be serious!” I wailed. “I’m eighteen now. I’m not a child!”

  “Cool, alright. You’re not a child. Pay your own cell phone and internet bills. Then we’ll talk,” He challenged.

  “UGH!” I groaned. Despite my argument, I sounded like a spoiled fifteen year old.

  “FINE!” I gave him Hazel’s number, feeling that I was committing myself to social suicide… but they probably lied to their parents all the time, actually.

  That thought eased my nerves only slightly. Hazel must have gone along with my lie when Travis called her, because he did give me permission to stay over at Hazel’s. Guilt washed over me because he was trusting me, even as I was lying.

  I wore the nicest thing I owned to this party: A black cocktail dress that I’d found at the thrift store. I thought I looked decent. The dress was a Dior, but since I bought it two years ago, it was probably out of style. Oh well.

  It turns out that this small get-together was a large get-together in an empty apartment. The party had been going on for quite some time when I arrived. I thought it started at nine pm, but it turns out the kids had been drinking long before that. There was literally nothing in the apartment except for a few expensive wall paintings, some dark leather furniture and a large, marbled open-floor space. Music blared. I didn’t know what musician it was. This was some kind of rap.

  There were kids everywhere, including a few college guys who were handing out the drinks. Strobe lights flashed over the marbled floor. I didn’t recognize most of the people there. I suddenly felt very shy, and completely out of my depth. I was prepared to find a corner and hide, or go back to the exit.

  “Here, have a drink,” One of the college guys manning the drink station suddenly greeted me. He gave me a charming grin as he handed me a large plastic cup of amber colored liquid.

  “Thanks,” I answered. It wasn’t beer.

  “Relax, it’s just iced tea,” He grinned.

  “Cool, thanks,” I answered.

  He was cute, with gelled back blond hair and broad shoulders. He wore a white polo that defined his very nice biceps. I felt a little more confident all of a sudden.

  I looked around for Hazel and the others. I didn’t see them anywhere.

  Naively, I sipped the drink. The taste was unusual for iced tea and I’m sure there was a little alcohol in it. I liked the taste though and I kept nervously sipping while I walked around the crowd, looking for the girls. I was normally a homebody… only immersed in my after school clubs. This was my first real party with alcohol.

  I finally found Hazel and company on the dance floor, making inappropriate moves with some of the guys that I would never have dreamed about. I made a detour away from them, draining my cup. By this point, I’d lost track of how long I’d been there. The girls were still moving on the dance floor under strobe lights.

  “Have another,” a male voice said from beside me, handing me another cup. I think it was the blond man who greeted me when I first arrived.

  I felt so warm and fuzzy from the drink at this point. The room was suddenly very hot. “You don’t look so good. You want to sit down?” The owner of the voice snaked an arm around my waist tightly and guided me over to the quiet hallway. My stomach burned slightly.

  “Here, drink this,” He said as dizziness washed over me. Without thinking, I took the drink and gulped it like it was water and then I blanched, then coughed and gasped. My throat burned like fire all the way down to my stomach. I didn’t know what was in that drink, but it was strong, and I wasn’t used to any alcoholic beverages.

  I suddenly felt very sick as I felt his hands all over my body. He was clearly taking advantage of my state and his han
ds moved to my breasts. Then, he pulled me towards him and kissed me, forcing his tongue inside my mouth. Alarm bells were clanging, despite my inebriated state. I pulled away from him, and stood very unsteadily.

  “I need some air,” I said, clinging to the wall as I tried to get away from him.

  “Aw come on, Angel. You need to loosen up. Don’t be such a cockblock.” I heard his voice creeping up behind me and I pulled my phone as I moved away from him.

  I was so blurry at this point. The numbers swam in my vision. I was afraid, especially after I heard the guy say to his friends, “I’m going to bang her brains out.”

  I kept moving until I was in the middle of the party. Travis could never know this. My mom could not know about this. I’d never see the light of day. I managed to phone Mason and he answered after two rings.

  “Mason… Mason…. Mason…” I stumbled toward the doorway. I could barely get a thought out, even though I knew what I wanted to say. The music blared so loudly over me, around me. I couldn’t think.

  “Jill, where are you?” He demanded.

  “Mason… I’m at a place. Um...”

  I managed to step outside of the party and was greeted with a wooden set of stairs. I managed to sit down, dropping my phone. I picked it up.

  “JILLIAN,” He growled as I replaced the phone to my ear.

  “I… I’m at a party. I’m going to slide down the stairs right now. This really hot guy said he wants to bang my brains out. He gave me some drinks. I got away.”

  “WHERE ARE YOU, Damnit! Give me the address.” Mason sounded like he was ready to break the phone.

  I stammered the address, and then dropped the phone, hanging up on him. Then, I threw up at the top of the stairs. I could hear the guy just on the other side of the door, and I gripped the railing as I attempted to get down the stairs without killing myself. I took off my heels and used both hands to descend the steps slowly, one at a time. It took me a while to near the bottom, or so it seemed.

  “Angel face, there you are,” As I neared the bottom step I heard that voice. Oh, no..