by Jamie Canosa
“Go on, dear,” her father urged. “We don’t have all night.”
“Oh.” They were obviously already late for something important because of her. “Sorry.”
Mason got to his feet and took a step back, giving her room to stand. “Ash, wait.”
He followed as she drifted down the hall into her bedroom. Most of her stuff was at the hotel. Was there anything left to pack? The closet in her room at her parent’s house was still full of her old clothes. Clothes her mother had picked for her. Clothes she’d intentionally left behind. She could just go back to—
“Ashlyn, stop.” Mason spun her around. Heat seeped through her shirt sleeve where he touched her elbow. He watched her so carefully it made her chest ache. “Is this what you want?”
The ache turned to an unbearable pressure. “Don’t ask me that.”
Exhaustion was a hundred ton weight pulling her down. She was going home with her parent’s because it was the right choice. Her mother said so. Why would he make her question it?
“You should be asking you that,” Mason insisted. “If you want to go to your parent’s house, that’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with that. As long as it’s what you want. Don’t do it because it’s what they want. Don’t do it because it’s easy.” His hand slid down her arm until it reached hers and he entangled their fingers, pressing his palm flush with hers. “I swore I wouldn’t let you quit. Don’t make me a liar.”
In the dim room lit only by the light someone had turned on in the hall, his eyes looked gray and his hair looked almost black. He was tall and solid, and the light all around him seemed to glow. Like some kind of dark angel.
“About what I said earlier . . .”
Yeah, about that. How was it possibly that three little words could scare her worse than being shot at?
Mason must have read the terror written all over her face because he quickly continued, “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t expect you to. I don’t even want you to. Take your time. You figure out what’s real for you. I just need you to know that whatever you decide to do, it won’t change the way I feel.”
Sparks skated under Ashlyn’s skin, shocking her heart into an irregular rhythm. “What do you think I should do?”
“I can’t tell you that.” He sounded almost apologetic.
“But . . .” He had to. She needed his help. “I trust you.”
“And that means more to me than anything.” A sad smile touched his lips. “But it’s not enough. You have to trust yourself.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
Mason
Mason gripped the cool porcelain and watched the water run into the basin, letting it get cold before splashing some on his face. Leaving Ashlyn alone in that room to suffer was probably the hardest thing he’d had to do in his life. What he really needed was a hot shower.
Crap. He needed to call his parents.
And then sleep. A month’s worth might put a dent in the fatigue hangover he felt coming on. But none of that compared to how he needed her. A week of sleeping with Ashlyn in his arms . . . he didn’t think he’d ever find peace without her there again.
“Mason?” A quiet knock came at the door and when he opened it, Ashlyn didn’t say another word. She just reached for his hand.
Mason gave it to her and let her lead him down the hall to the living room.
“Are you ready?” Meredith’s eyes darted from Ashlyn to Mason and back again, and he noticed the same little line that Ashlyn always got just above her nose.
Ashlyn’s fingers stretched through his and she held on tighter. “I’m not going home with you. I want to go back to the hotel with Mason. And tomorrow we’re moving back here.”
The ground dropped from beneath his feet and Mason could have sworn he sprouted wings. An invisible weight that had been tied to him for so many years fell away. He was soaring.
“Ashlyn, don’t be ridiculous.” Meredith huffed a laugh that was more confusion than humor. “You can’t possibly want to continue living here. I’ve already had Mark put in a call to a realtor—”
“No, Mom. No realtor. This is my house and I’m keeping it. I’ll pay for it myself.”
Ice blue nails pressed against Meredith’s forehead. Tiny wrinkles creased her skin; worry lines around her eyes and mouth, and Mason could almost see it. The teenage version of Ashlyn; stubborn, headstrong, rebellious. Suddenly, Meredith Mills wasn’t a bad guy at all. She was a mother doing what she thought she had to in order to keep her daughter safe. It wasn’t just that other family that could have died that night on the road.
“You’re going to regret—”
“Then I’ll regret it.” Ashlyn sighed. She looked and sounded utterly exhausted. Mason moved closer, pressing against her side, letting her draw the strength she needed from him. “I know I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. But I’ve learned from them. I’ve grown up. This is my life, Mom. I need to start living it my way. Regrets and all. I’m sorry if you don’t understand that.”
“Ashlyn—”
“Meredith.” Ashlyn’s father placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Listen to the girl. I know you want to protect her from everything, but that’s not what she needs.” His eyes glowed with pride as he smiled at his daughter. “She’s grown into a strong young woman. Just like her mother.”
“But . . .” Meredith looked from her daughter to her husband.
“We should go.” He gently turned her and nudged her toward the door. “Ashlyn, call your mother tomorrow so she doesn’t worry. And you . . .” His attention shifted to Mason. “. . . take good care of my daughter, young man.”
Mason held onto her just a little bit tighter. Ashlyn didn’t need to be taken care of, but he’d do everything in his power to support her. “Yes, sir.”
The front door scraped across the floor as they pulled it shut behind them. They’d have to get that fixed, but it was a problem for another day. Mason looked at the girl by his side. The girl who had chosen him.
“I love you.” He could say it now without hesitation or fear. And he planned to. Often.
“You know what?” Ashlyn smiled and Mason braced himself, because sometimes with her you just never knew what was coming next. “I kinda love you, too.”
Epilogue
-3 Months Later-
A) A crocodile doing the electric slide.
B) Meredith Mills sitting on the low suede sofa of a therapist’s office.
If forced to choose which option was more likely, Ashlyn would have picked A in a heartbeat. She never in a million years would have guessed her mother—the congresswoman—would be okay with her going to see a shrink. She never would have guessed she’d be okay with it. But Mason was right; she needed more help than he could give. It wasn’t fair to put that kind of responsibility on him.
He wanted to help. As it turned out, so did her parents. But it was on her to accept that help and do something with it. So . . . here they were.
“Okay.” A woman in her early thirties with short brown hair, wearing a white blouse and a gray pencil skirt, took a seat across from where Ashlyn sat beside her mother. She laid a notebook in her lap and clicked her pen. “Let’s begin at the beginning.”
Ashlyn shut her eyes and swallowed hard against the rising tide of nausea. There was a bathroom just down the hall. She’d spotted it on the way in. But then she forced herself to open them and look at the sunlight pouring through the window.
The past wasn’t something she could run from anymore. It wasn’t something she could hide, change, or forget about. And maybe that was okay because the past was what made her who she was. And she was okay. Jay’s father was sentenced to three years in prison, and Jay and Em were okay. Mason started as an associate at his parent’s business and he was okay. Tank was home, living the fat and happy life of a canine king, and he was okay.
Ashlyn settled into the soft cushions, folded her hands in her lap, and took a deep breath.
The past may have been a dark place, f
ull of shadows and fear, but the future was bright.
Acknowledgements
Almost four years to the day after releasing Em and Jay into the world with Fight or Flight, I find myself typing ‘The End’ for the final time in their story. I will miss them. I will miss Allie and Dean. I will miss Ashlyn and Mason. But the love they all share and their fighting spirits with forever live in my heart. I’m proud to have written their stories.
Thank you so much to everyone who has been a part of this memorable journey. My amazing editor, Cindy. My awesome beta readers. My incredible cover artist, Emily, who worked magic to bring this couple to life.
But above all, I want to thank the readers who loved these couples as much as I did. Those who left reviews. Those who sent me messages and emails. Thank you so much for your encouragement. I only hope that my stories continue to do the same for you.
You are brave. You are strong. You are beautiful.
About the Author
Jamie Canosa is a full time author of YA/NA literature, which she absolutely loves. When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, she can usually be found with her nose in a book. She currently resides in Upstate NY with her husband, and their three crazy kids . . . plus the cats, and the dog.
Learn more about Jamie at:
http://jamiecanosa.wix.com/author
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJamieCanosa