by Tijan
He folded his clipboard against his chest and tucked his chin down as he gave me a long searching stare. Then he sighed. "Strattan, you came to me. If you want a scholarship, you'll play by my rules. I'm not challenging you, I'm pushing you. You're going to be the best damn runner you can be and if you stick with my rules through the track season and cross country season next fall, you'll be going to a school with a full ride."
"Cross country?"
"Running's a solitary thing for you. It's like that for the best runners, but you better start getting used to not doing everything your way or no way. You're joining both teams whether you like it or not. Make sure to stop at the school sometime this week and fill out all your paperwork. We run at 6 in the morning, every morning."
He didn't wait for my response. As he got inside his car, he hollered back to me, "Run, Strattan! Time and distance, Strattan. Time and distance."
I stood there, not sure what to think so when he tapped his horn once, I got to running. Even though I knew I would be dead for the rest of the day, I did what he ordered. I ran until I had no gas left, and then I ran some more. By the time I was done, I collapsed on the grass and waited until my heart would stop pounding. Then I remembered he said to mark the time and distance. The numbers didn't make sense to me, not much did at that moment, but I knew that I had to stretch and I needed to call for a ride.
Stretching was torture, and by the time Mason arrived, I had fallen asleep.
"Sam." He touched my arm.
I opened my eyes, frowned as he was bent over me. Then I let out a deep groan, "Oh my god."
I couldn't sit up. I tried. I failed.
Mason caught my arm and pulled me to my feet. When I would've fallen back down, he scooped me up and carried me to his car. It wasn't long before he had me buckled in and was in his own seat. Then he pointed to my car. "You want me and Logan to come back and get that?"
I nodded, feeling weak. Why had I run so much? I croaked out, "What time is it?" But my eyes were already closing. I needed sleep, just sleep.
"You have two hours before your shift."
I cursed under my breath. Why the hell had I run so much? But I remembered Coach Grath's barking orders and knew the look on his face would be worth it. His gruff exterior pissed me off. I felt like I had to prove myself to him. No matter what he said, I still felt that he didn't believe in me. I wondered if he was meeting with me as a favor to…I looked sideways. Mason seemed clueless to my thoughts as he drove to Manny's.
Wait, to Manny's? I sat up. "What are you doing?"
He wheeled into the parking lot and turned the engine off. "You're eating. What else would I be doing?"
My mouth fell open. "Mason, I stink! I can't go in there. Everybody will leave because I smell so bad."
He grinned but shook his head. "With Gus as close competition? I doubt it. Come on, Sam. You need to eat and we don't have anything good at the house."
My head fell back with a thump. He went inside. My ass did not. He was nuts if he thought I was going in there. But I did, after he came out and carried me inside. Lily grinned when she saw the state I was in. And after our food orders were taken, I glanced around. I hadn't before, I didn't want to see the reactions to my messy appearance when Mason walked through the diner, but couldn't stop myself now.
The place was full, but Mason chose a corner table for me. There was a fan beside me, so I dried off quickly, and it was pointed out the side door. All my sweaty fumes went that way. Still, while I wanted to be invisible, I knew whom I was with. Mason attracted attention, and with him beside me and how I looked, we were getting a lot of attention. It was unavoidable.
Heather came over with our water, but instead of leaving, she dropped into the chair beside me. "You want to tell me why you look like you ran a marathon?"
Mason grunted but reached for his glass.
I slunk further down my chair. "That bad, huh?"
"Sammy, don't tell me you ran a marathon? You're on shift in two hours."
"I know, I know." I opened my mouth, ready to start explaining how my new coach was a potential ass, when the door opened and more people strolled inside. "Where did all these people come from?"
"Oh." She jerked a thumb towards Mason. "You can thank your boy here."
"Huh?"
He narrowed his eyes, but didn't say a word.
"Mason?"
"Or maybe it's because of you." Heather studied me again.
Mason gave me a strained smile before he stood up. "I'll be back in a few."
I watched him walk over to a table in the back section, close to the bar, before Heather pulled my attention back by saying, "My dad's over the moon."
"Huh?"
She nodded in Mason's direction. "Word got out that Mason and Logan Kade were both here last night, then word got out that their stepsister works here, and everybody put two and two together. Judging from the crowd we had this morning and how it hasn't let up since, I'm figuring my baby is the new hang-out."
Dread formed in my gut. I liked this place because it was small and private. That was gone now. Then my eyes widened again as I saw the section by the front door. "Academy students are here too?"
"Yeah." She turned to look too. "Those some friends of yours?"
Definitely not.
Jessica shot daggers at me while Lydia sat beside her. Across from them were Becky and another guy who was bouncing in his chair. Jeff sat on his other side, laughing at something he said, but it was the table next to them that had me surging to my feet. Adam was the closest to Becky. He had a hand out to her chair and the two were conversing while the Academy Elite sat around the rest of his table. Miranda's lips thinned as she scanned the diner. The other three girls had spotted me and converged together. When their hands came up to block their mouths I knew the whispering gossip had started. Again. The only two who seemed semi normal were Peter and Mark, but when I caught Mark's gaze for a second, I flinched and turned away.
"…he wants to break the news that he thinks his mom and Coach are going to get hitched, but he doesn't know how to."
I couldn't deal with that. I couldn't think about David and his mother together. Was that the reason my dad had stopped calling me? Adam said that to me two months ago, which now feels like ages ago. Mark was going to be family to me. I felt a burning in my chest. It was tightening, suffocating me. I jerked away from my table, but ran into someone.
"Okay." A strong hand took hold of my elbow and pulled me through the crowd. I couldn't see anyone. I had no idea where Mason was, he had left me. The door was kicked open and we were outside. Barely registering the fresh air, I was pushed down in a chair and my head was shoved between my legs. "Breathe, Sam. Jeez, just breathe."
I took gasping breaths and my eyes closed against the visions that assaulted me.
I pushed open the bathroom door, but he wasn't in there either. "Dad?" Where had he gone? Mom needed him. Mom was bleeding. I hurried back around the bed, but tripped over something. There was a bag on the floor—no, it was a suitcase. Mom was going somewhere? A sob came up in my throat and I whimpered, "Daddy."
His clothes were in the suitcase. Some of his other clothes were spread all over the room. They'd been thrown like that. Why would he do that? He wasn't like that.
Mom was bleeding. I had to go to her.
I pushed myself up, stepped over the suitcase, and hurried down the hallway again. As I neared it, I slowed down. I didn't want to go in there. She was so still and so white. I had only seen another person that white before, when my dad picked me up after I fell off our patio. He took me to the hospital—mom needed the hospital. I turned and went for the phone.
"Hey." Mason's calming voice brought me back as he picked me up and held me in his arms. Then I felt him turning away.
"Where are you taking her, Kade?"
His voice was rough as he threw over his shoulder, "She just needs a minute. She'll be fine. Don't worry."
"Come on, Kade—"
He twisted back around. "I said, she'll be fine. Leave it, Jax."
The edge left her tone. "Take her to my house. It's not the Grand Ritz you guys live in, but it's private. She can shower there. I have a pile of clothes next to my bed. I lent some to her before; she can pick what she wants to wear."
He stiffened underneath me. I knew he wanted to take me home, but enough reason had filtered back to me that I lifted my head from his shoulder. My voice was still weak, "That's fine, Mason. I have to work. I can't miss my shift."
"You sure?" His eyes searched mine.
I nodded but started to tremble at the look of concern in his depths. There was so much love. I lifted my hands to his face and cupped it. His eyes closed and he drew in a ragged breath. My thumb caressed over his cheek. He was so handsome. Perfect. And he was mine. I pressed a kiss to his lips. He hesitated, but I whispered, "I'm fine. I'm fine." Then his mouth opened underneath mine, and he took over the kiss.
I pressed closer, but he had already gentled the kiss by the time he stepped around the back of Manny's. As he put me back down on my feet, he indicated the house. "This is the place?"
"Uh…" I could only focus on how much I wanted to feel him, only him. "Yeah, I guess."
He stepped onto the squeaky patio and opened the screen door. I followed when he went inside, and he stopped to peruse their small living room and kitchen. The stairs were straight ahead with an open door beside them. I saw now that it led to a bedroom. The same boxes of liquor were inside, along with clothes, and dirty dishes.
I gestured upstairs. "Her room's up there. I'm going to shower and change. You'll be okay down here?"
He hadn't stopped looking at the living room. A ratted couch was covered with a bed sheet. The table in front of was covered with magazines, dirtied plates, and cans of beer and soda. Against the wall, their large screen television was the only thing that looked expensive. Mason took a step around the couch and lifted one of the remotes. When he saw that I was waiting, he nodded, "I'll be fine. You're okay up there?"
I nodded. I knew he was really asking if I'd have any more panic attacks, but it hadn't been a full-fledged one. Or maybe I was becoming used to them. "I'll be fine. I'll hurry down."
"No, no." He waved a hand at me. "Take your time."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'll be fine."
"Okay." I grinned as he stood in the middle of the living room, searching where to sit. There was a loveseat next to the couch, but it was covered with a similar bedsheet. He bent down and removed a pile of magazines from one corner and perched on the edge. When the television turned on, I headed upstairs.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I heard raised voices when I got out of the shower and ran downstairs. My body was tired. Actually, my heart was tired. But when I heard Mason, a jolt of adrenaline burst through me. I grabbed a towel on the way and had it wrapped around me when I skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. Mason had his back to me. His shoulders were tense and bunched forward. His hands were in fists at his side, and I knew he was a heartbeat away from a fight. When I took another step down, my eyes widened. Heather stood in front of that guy, the model with tattoos. He was in the doorway and had a similar stance as Mason's, but her hands were braced to his chest. A snarl was on her face until she threw a look over her shoulder and saw me. Her eyes bulged out.
"Chill, Chan. Seriously. There's the evidence, smack dab in a towel. You see her?" She shoved her friend back a step. Then she swung an arm and pointed at me. "He was here for her, not me."
Mason glanced back and bit out a curse. "Sam." He stepped up to block me from view. "Go get some clothes on."
"But," I searched around him.
The guy had visibly relaxed, but Heather was still in front of him. Her arms were crossed, and I knew from the tension in her shoulders that she was glaring at him.
"Go." Mason's hands gripped my hips as he urged me up a step.
"Go with her," Heather spoke over her shoulder.
"Better idea. Let's go."
"What was going on?"
But he wasn't listening. When I didn't move, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me up the stairs. His arm wrapped around the back of my legs and my body kept straight so I watched over his shoulder. Heather glanced at us and shook her head. She rolled her eyes, but the guy said something to her. As she looked back at him, she swatted at his shoulder. And then I couldn't see anymore as Mason stopped at the top of the stairs.
"What happened down there?"
"I'll tell you when you've got some clothes on."
"Oh."
"Exactly."
I'd forgotten about my state of undress. I giggled. And then I really thought about the situation. I had a mini-panic attack, Mason brought me here to regroup and shower, and then I walked in on him about to get into a fight with only a towel on. Goodness. The swift change of events had me feeling light-headed as I sat on Heather's bed.
"What's wrong?"
I shook my head, still dazed. "I take it that guy didn't like that you were here?"
He grimaced and then sighed. "Where are those clothes? I'll feel better when you're dressed."
"Okay." But I didn't move.
"Seriously?" He raked a hand through his hair, the little he had with his crew cut. His eyes widened and irritation flashed over them. His shirt lifted from the movement. I caught a glimpse of his abdominal muscles, sculpted with perfection. The oblique muscles had been hardened and stuck out as they disappeared under jeans that hung low on his hips.
I licked my lips. God, those muscles. I wanted to touch them. I wanted to—his hand caught mine and he hauled me off the bed and into his arms. I found myself staring into heated eyes, lined with suppressed anger and more. A groan escaped me, and I started to close my eyes as my head bent down. I needed him. His kiss before had sparked the flame, but now it raged inside of me. I couldn't bank it down now.
"Are you two kidding me?"
Heather's voice was like a bucket of cold water being thrown over us. I shoved back from Mason. I would've pulled him down to the bed. Even if he had protested, I knew that I would've made him forget where we were. Goodness. I drew in a gaping breath as I clutched my towel, the only thing covering me still.
I croaked out, "Heather."
She was in the doorway with a fierce frown on her face. Her arms were crossed, but she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I brought your food over here, figured you'd need some grub in you." Then she looked at Mason. "I'm sorry about Channing. He's a bit protective of me, and you're…you…"
He clipped his head in a nod but didn't say a word. As he turned to look out the window, he stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"So…" Heather watched me now.
I flushed and grabbed some of her clothes. "I'll put these on and head downstairs."
She waved at me. "Take your time. I wanted to check on you, didn't realize what I'd be walking in on. But whatever. Logan showed up and filled me in on some things. Your friends are all still there so you're going to be dishwasher again tonight. I hope that's okay."
Relief washed over me. I nodded, unable to speak for a moment.
"Frank went home. His wife is coming in. I was going to have you cover a full section tonight, but I get what's going on. Rosa will fill in for you. When things get crazy busy like this, you can go to the back. We'll figure it out as we go. Sound good?"
I nodded again. It sounded perfect.
Her eyes lingered on Mason before she looked back to me. Her concern was evident. "You'll be okay for the night?"
"Yes. I mean it." I did. Determination spread through me. I wasn't going to disrupt anyone else's life because of my issues. "I can sit if I need to in the back."
Mason turned around, now more in control. He said in a soft tone, "I'll help her too."
Heather nodded. "I figured you might want to."
His jaw clenched. His eyes touched on me for a split second, but he turned back for the window. When his tension didn't
leave him, I nodded to Heather's unspoken question if he would be alright. She frowned, but left a second later. As soon as she went down the stairs, I shut the door. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing."
"Mason," I sighed. His answer had been short, too short. "I'm sorry that I freaked out before—"
He swung around. This time he didn't hold back his anger and I was startled from the fierceness of it. "You're sorry? What the hell happened? I never have any idea when you're going to flip out or sprint off for one of those long-ass runs you do. They're not healthy, Sam. I've been quiet for a long time, but you need to start telling me what going on with you."
"Mason," I started.
"I mean it." His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes glittered with emotion. He'd had enough.
I saw it then and knew that my hiding was done. I slumped down on the bed and hung my head. This was going to be painful.
I took a deep breath. I was going to need it. "I've been having flashbacks to that night with my mom."
"Your mom? What night?"
"The night she lost the baby—"
His shoulders loosened a fraction, but he remained by the window. "You said she killed her baby."
I nodded. A storm of emotions swirled inside of me, but I couldn't deal with them, not now. "Yeah, I know. She did, but I didn't know then and I keep remembering it in bits and pieces."
"Oh."
I needed to tell him more. I needed to explain it all to him. So I rasped out, "I saw Mark Decraw in the diner and it sent me into a tailspin. I'm sorry. I really am, just the sight of him reminded me of his mom, who might be married to my dad now and…" I drew in a shuddering breath. The pain ripped through me, stabbing me in the gut. "I have no idea if he married her or not. He hasn't reached out to me at all."
Mason sat beside me on the bed and picked up one of my hands. He held it in his lap. "David's not married to that woman. The divorce isn't even finalized with your mom."
"Oh."
I blinked in surprise. I should've known that.
"Logan told me about that before, but I didn't realize you bought into it. Decraw has no idea about your parent's divorce. He's a dumbass. Don't listen to anything he says."