by Jamie Canosa
That last bit was unnecessary, but Mason understood why he threw it in. A wry smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t nearly as interested in stealing Em away from Jay as everyone seemed to think.
“That’s great, man. Congrats. When’s the big day?”
“Soon. We’re not . . . making a big deal out of it.” AKA they couldn’t afford to make a big deal out of it. As tempted as Mason was to offer to help out financially, he could see the serious hit Jay’s pride had already taken at not being able to give Em the big, fancy wedding she deserved. Not that Em was the kind of girl to care about those types of things. “Just a few friends down at the courthouse.”
“Sounds like a plan.” But what the hell did any of this have to do with him?
“So, anyway—”
The point of this whole get together was interrupted by the arrival of Mason’s bar-be-cue chicken sandwich and Jay’s burger. They both politely thanked their server and turned their attention to the food. He may not have been hungry when he walked in, but looking at the thick red sauce dripping onto his plate . . . Mason scooped up his sandwich and took a bite. Mm, so much better than pizza.
Jay lifted his burger before dropping it back on his plate uneaten and folded his arms across the tabletop with a sigh. “As you might have noticed, I don’t have a whole lot of friends. You’re important to Em.” A fact that still clearly irritated him, although he was the one she was about to share a last name with. “So, I was wondering if you might be willing to . . . be the best man? Em’s asking Ashlyn and you two already know each other, so I figured—”
“Sure,” Mason cut him off, putting a wrap on the painfully awkward invitation. Not exactly gushing accolades, but he got where Jay was coming from. “It’d be an honor.”
Visible relief crossed Jay’s face as he dunked a fry in ketchup and popped it in his mouth. “Thanks.”
With the bare minimum of words getting in the way, they finished their meals quickly and headed out to the lot.
“I’ll give you a call when we have more details worked out.” Jay headed for his car, while Mason leaned against the side of his truck.
“Okay. Tell Em I said hi.”
Even across the darkened lot, he could see Jay’s scowl. They may have taken a step in the right direction, but pissing him off was probably never going to get old.
Chapter Five
Mason
“Alright, Dad, I’ll see you . . . later.” Shutting the front door, Mason strode across the driveway. “What the hell?”
His new silver 4x4 was still parked right where he’d left it, but the long red streak curving around the rear bumper definitely hadn’t been there last night. If some punk kid thought it would be funny to—
Mason rounded the truck and froze solid. ‘Back off or she’ll be sorry’ was scrawled in sloppy red spray paint across his tailgate. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. That was no prank. It was a threat.
When he’d given his statement to the police last month and agreed to testify against the piece of shit asshole that terrified Em and beat on Jay for years, he’d never imagined something like this would happen. Jay’s father was a loser with anger management issues, but he wasn’t part of the friggin’ mafia.
A threat against who, though? Back off or she’ll be sorry. Not Jay, then. Em? Or . . .
“Shit.” Mason dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed. He wasn’t the only one willing to help put that bastard behind bars. “Answer the damn phone, Ash.”
Ring-Ring-Ring-Click.
“Either I missed your call or I ignored it. Either way, by the time I get around to checking my messages I probably won’t be calling anyone back.” Her recorded greeting—if it could be called that—streamed down the line. So blunt and honest, it was just like Ashlyn. Most times it made him smile. Today it had him grinding his teeth in frustration.
“Dammit.” Engaging the Bluetooth, he climbed behind the wheel and dialed again.
He’d called four more times—each with the same result—before swerving into her driveway. It was empty, but that didn’t mean anything. Her car was still in the shop. The hunk of junk was a lost cause, but for some reason he couldn’t fathom Ashlyn flat-out refused to put it out of its misery.
Gravel crunched under his boots as he sprinted up onto the porch and slammed to a stop.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
His heartrate tripled and he banged on her door in a frenzy to match.
“Ashlyn!” He jiggled the doorknob, but it was locked. “Ash, open the door! Are you in there?”
He nearly toppled onto her when the door flew open. A quick head-to-toe scan revealed a white tee that read ‘Live Everyday Like It’s Taco Tuesday’ over flannel pajama pants and bare feet. Nothing to indicate she was in any sort of trouble. Or couldn’t answer her goddamn phone.
“Mason?” The television played quietly in the living room, where a bowl of cereal sat abandoned on the coffee table. “Are you okay? What’s the matter?”
“Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
“Oh.” Surprise flashed over her face and she turned to survey the room. “I must have left my phone plugged in in the bedroom. Why? What’s going on?”
“You haven’t seen it?”
Her brows drew together. “Seen what? How many cups of coffee have you had this morning? You’re acting a little—”
“Ashlyn,” he snapped, checking the urge to shake her. “Just look.”
He waved at the red paint sprayed across the front of her house below the mailbox. Less than a foot from her door. The son of a bitch had been that close.
‘Decisions have consequences. Yours will destroy you.’
He’d been wrong earlier. What was written on his truck was a warning. This was a threat.
Sunlight glinted off her hot-pink toe polish as she joined him on the porch. A sharp intake of breath was the only warning he got before she stepped back, right into him, nearly sending both of them toppling down the stairs. One hand shot out, clutching the railing, while the other wrapped around her waist, securing her to his chest.
“What is that?”
“Come on. Let’s go inside.” He had no idea if the asshole who did this was still around, getting his jollies by watching her reaction to his handiwork, but if he was, Mason wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.
Despite looking perfectly calm, Ashlyn didn’t argue. She let him take the lead. And when he had her situated on the couch, she pushed away the half-full bowl of Captain Crunch. All clear signs of just how freaked out she really was.
“I found something similar on my truck this morning.” But that had been parked in the driveway, a good twenty yards from the house. Whoever it was, they’d been right outside Ashlyn’s front door. The thought curled his fingers until his nails bit into his palms. “You didn’t hear anything?”
“No. It must have happened last night. While I was sleeping.” A shudder wracked her body and without thinking, Mason wrapped her hand in his.
“It’s alright. Probably just some half-assed attempt to scare us off, but I think maybe I should give Jay a call. Make sure they’re alright.”
She nodded absently, eyes fixed on a bare spot on the wall. There were a lot of things about that girl that drove him crazy, but his inability to tell what she was thinking half the time was at the top of the list.
“Hey.” Tucking a finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face until her gaze connected with his. “You okay?”
She stared up at him for a long moment, looking . . . lost. Not a sentiment he was accustomed to seeing from her and it tugged at something in him. Then she blinked and the spell was broken.
Shaking off his touch, she huffed and stood. “I’m fine. Just pissed some asshole thinks he can violate my house like that and get away with it. Call Jay. I’m going to see what cleaning supplies I have.”
Chapter Six
Ashlyn
Forty minutes later, she’d amassed everything from Windex to b
leach on the kitchen counter, but Mason refused to let her actually use any of it. Evidently, he thought the oh-so-charming love note was something that should be reported to the police. The rest of the crew currently taking up residence in her living room—including Em and Jay—seemed to agree. Ashlyn did not.
Every moment that passed with those words displayed on the front of her house grated on her nerves. She wanted it off. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“You’re probably right. It’s probably nothing,” Jay agreed. “But I didn’t even know my father knew someone capable of something like this. I thought all of his friends were . . . fooled. They thought he was someone he wasn’t. A decent person, like them. But if one of them is anything like him . . .”
A darkness shadowed Jay’s face until Em wrapped her arms around his waist. He looked down at her like she was the sun in his universe.
“We’re so sorry.” Tears sprang into Em’s eyes and Jay slipped an arm around her shoulders. “We never meant to drag either of you into this mess.”
“Em.” Mason took a step toward her, until Jay not-so-subtly tugged her even closer. Retreating, Mason tucked his hands in his pockets before continuing. “You didn’t drag anyone into anything, okay?”
Moving through the kitchen, Ashlyn dug out a bag of chips and popped one in her mouth. She had the sudden urge to devour the entire bag. Jay tracked her and narrowed his eyes. Whatever he was thinking, she didn’t want to know. The guy picked up on pretty much everything. Probably a throwback to his days on the street.
She couldn’t imagine what awful things could happen to someone who didn’t pick up on details out there. Someone like Em. If Jay hadn’t found her, kept her safe . . . But, all of that was behind them now. Jay and Em were together. They were safe. And they were counting on her to help keep them that way.
Grabbing a handful of chips, she stuffed her mouth with salty goodness. No matter what she did, this was not going to end well. The crunching didn’t even come close to drowning out her thoughts. Ignore the threat and potentially put herself and her friends at greater risk, or report it and deal with the fallout that was her mother? A rock and a hard place. She reached for another chip and found the bag snatched from her reach.
“Ashlyn . . .” Jay watched her face closely. “I don’t know what this is, but I do know my father. He’s a violent bastard without a conscience. Do you understand? Hopefully it’s nothing more than pathetic, cowardly scare tactics, but you need to report it. You could be in real danger, Ash. If something happened to you . . .” One corner of his lips tipped upward in a rare smile and it was easy to see why Em had fallen so hard for him. “Em would never forgive me. I’m asking you to help save my marriage here.”
Ashlyn groaned in defeat. How the hell was she supposed to say no to that? The tricky bastard grinned at her as he slid her cell across the counter.
“Fine.” She turned toward where Mason and Em were chatting quietly in the living room to make sure they shared in her displeasure. “You all win. I’ll file a damn police report.”
She pulled up the internet on her phone to search for the number to the local precinct, refusing to call 9-1-1 when it wasn’t an actual emergency, and felt a bump against her shoulder.
When she glanced up, Jay was back to his normal serious, brooding self. “Thank you.”
***
Ashlyn sat on the couch, fiddling with the fraying edge of her favorite burgundy throw blanket. The house was finally quiet again, but after the whirlwind of activity all morning she was still on edge. So much for her lazy Saturday off.
Odd sound effects of some old-school cartoon provided background noise, but she hadn’t bothered looking at the screen for the past half-hour. Someone had been right outside her house, vandalizing her home . . . and she hadn’t even known it. Had they touched the door? Tried to come inside?
“Uck.” A full-body shiver raced from head to toe. Goddammit, this was her home the one place she was supposed to feel safe. Some wannabe Van Gogh was not going to take that from her. He wasn’t going to take her control. Not here.
Her gaze drifted down the hall. She didn’t want to, but what choice did she have? She had to regain control. The police were gone. They’d taken statements, snapped a few photos and were on their way. Em and Jay had to get to work. Mason had offered to call in sick and stay with her, but she didn’t need a babysitter. And she had shit to do.
“Not yet.” She was breathing hard with the physical effort it took to force herself into the kitchen instead of the bathroom. There was no way she’d be able to regain control with those words still painted on her wall. And, god forbid, anyone else should see it.
Filling a bucket with hot water, she dumped in her own concoction of cleaning agents and dug out a pair of rubber gloves and a fresh sponge from under the sink. It took five freaking minutes to get the gloves on her sweaty, shaking hands and when she did . . . the phone rang.
“Perfect.” Well, that hadn’t taken long.
The gloves peeled off with a loud snap and she tossed them halfway across the room.
“Hello, Mother.”
“I come into the office this afternoon and do you know what my advisor tells me? She tells me that my daughter’s house has been vandalized. That a police report has been filed. Tell me, Ashlyn, why is it that I’m hearing this news from my advisor and not my daughter?”
“It really wasn’t a big deal, Mom. I didn’t want to bother you with—”
“Not a big deal? Channel five is already running the story.”
That would be what she was concerned about. “I’m fine by the way. Thanks for asking.”
“I know you’re fine! I read the police report. You didn’t even know they were there until they were long gone. Don’t you think I’d ask how my daughter was if I didn’t already know?”
“Mom,” Ashlyn leaned on the counter and dropped her head back with a thud against the cabinet door. “If you already know all of this, then why are you calling?”
“Because this has to end.”
“What?” Ashlyn’s eyes which had slid shut in an attempt to steady herself, shot open.
“This whole nonsense with the trial. I indulged you doing your civic duty, but, Ashlyn, this has gone too far. You’re making headlines. Associating yourself with a criminal. A child abuser of all things.”
“In case you failed to notice, I’ll be sitting on the opposite side of the courtroom.”
“All that matters is that you’ll be in the room at all.” She slipped into her ‘senator tone’. The one that could cut diamonds. “Do you know what this year is?”
How could she not? “An election year.”
“That’s right. And as such, I don’t have the luxury of allowing such self-destructive behavior right now.”
“Self-dest—Mom!” Her head spun. Hunching forward, Ashlyn wrapped an arm around her stomach and took a deep breath. “I’m not being self-destructive. I’m trying to help my friends. I’m trying to—”
“Enough. I know what you’re trying to do and I’m telling you it’s over. Let’s not forget the consequences of your last bad decision.”
“I have to go, Mom.” Everything was spinning. Everything was spinning out of control. A pair of headlights flashed against her closed eyelids. Breaking glass. Twisted metal.
“As do I.” A click signaled the end of the conversation and Ashlyn dropped her phone right where she stood.
Screw the paint, the words, her mother. Screw it all.
The bathroom door was an obstacle she didn’t have patience for. It was too much. Friends, family, threats, trials, friggin’ election years. She triggered her gag reflex and heaved. Nothing. Dammit, she needed it out.
Sweat coated her forehead and trickled down the back of her neck. Her entire body jerked with each heave until finally, finally the acrid burn coursed up her throat. Disgusting.
Completely wrung dry, Ashlyn slumped against the wall, struggling to catch her breath. The tang of b
lood lingered in her mouth. This wasn’t healthy. She wasn’t fooling herself. She knew she was sick, but it helped. It was the only thing that helped. The fiery burn in her throat and sore stomach muscles were a fair trade to relieve herself of the stress and guilt that threatened to tear her apart. To restore the control she couldn’t seem to hang on to any other way.
Long minutes passed and her ass was getting sore from sitting on the hard floor before she found the strength to drag herself up. The mirror above the sink reflected a pale face and dull eyes shadowed by dark rings. It wasn’t even two o’clock and all she wanted was to crawl back into bed. Instead, she brushed her teeth and flossed. She may have had a problem or two, but rotted teeth were not going to be one of them.
“I’m okay.”
A glass of milk eased the burn in her throat and after deciding there was really no need to get dressed, she put on a fresh pair of cozy pajamas and curled back up on the couch.
“I’m okay.”
Chapter Seven
Mason
Saturdays at the Pizza Palace were the stuff nightmares were made of. Screaming children, stressed parents, irritated co-workers. Kevin hadn’t been particularly thrilled to see him when Mason had arrived almost two hours late for his shift. But none of that was what had him on edge all afternoon. It was Ashlyn.
The rational part of his brain kept insisting that she was fine. That no one follows through on a threat the same day they make it. If they even planned to follow through at all. Odds were Jay was right, they were just hollow words meant to frighten Ash away from testifying. If they thought that was all it would take to get her to turn her back on her friends, they didn’t know her very well. But leaving her home alone after the morning they’d had didn’t sit right with him. She could deny it all she wanted, but she’d been spooked. He never should have left her on her own.
“Shift’s over. I’m outta here.” Kevin logged off his register and headed for the back room.