“No, we could share the bed.” I bit down on lip to prevent myself from rescinding the offer.
“Okay, I’ll go clean up first,” he stated and went into the attached bathroom.
When he exited the bathroom ten minutes later, I noted he left on his t-shirt and his boxer shorts. The clothing was unable to conceal the hard planes of his chest and abs. He lacked the softness of the pampered Tanner. Mason had earned every muscle and it increased his sexiness a thousand fold.
Too many years of my fear of sexual situations made my body stiffen as he slid in beside me. However, once his arms were around me I let my fears go. Mason was safe. He wouldn’t hurt me in the way that Tanner had just because I had doubts about losing my virginity.
His hands dropped to my waist and I leaned into his muscular chest. I found it hard to concentrate as his breathing tickled the back of my neck. I waited for his breathing to regulate and for him to fall asleep. The exhaustion of the day caught up with me and I felt myself relaxed by Mason’s protective presence. My eyes fluttered closed and I fell into a dreamless slumber.
I woke up the next morning before sunrise. I was weary, but unsure if I would be able to fall back sleep anytime soon. I was surprised that I had felt comfortable enough to sleep through the night. I had assumed I would lay awake visualizing my father’s forlorn expression in my mind. I replayed his admission in my head and still found it hard to believe that my mother was able to lie to me all these years. No wonder the family photo at Christmas had put her on edge. She probably harbored plenty of resentment towards my father.
I sighed at my tumultuous thoughts. Mason stirred and pulled me closer to his body. I had edged away from him during the night.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Mason asked behind me.
Without an explanation, I understood he was talking about the disaster of my spell yesterday. I wished I could never be forced to talk about it. I only wanted to be comforted by Mason and think about how much I was growing to care for him. When he had tried to kiss me at Christmas, I thought it was only physical attraction between us. The way he acted the night before hinted at the possibility of something much deeper. He was entitled to know the truth.
“I summoned my dad,” I admitted.
I heard his sharp intake of breath. “What happened?”
“I had so many questions for him…I was hoping he would be able to tell me the truth about my past. I was completely obsessed with the thought that I cast without an offering,” I sighed.
“Did you see him? When I found you in the woods, you looked like you were in some sort of trance. Your eyes were opened, but they were glazed over. With the altar and the dead crows, I figured you must have dabbled in some sort of dark magic,” he said to my back.
I spun around to face him. “The spell worked and he looked like he did when he died. Besides the guilt and sadness that seemed to haunt him. We talked about his death and I asked him who had killed him. My mom always said it was a burglary gone wrong and the person panicked and shot my dad. I should’ve questioned more why I could never find anything online about the case. Or why my mom didn’t seem more intent on finding his killer,” I admonished myself.
“Did he tell you?”
“He killed himself…” I swallowed hard. Mason held me tightly to his body. Pushing down my instinct to unwrap myself from his embrace, I instead rested my head against his chest. I fingered the fabric of his t-shirt and tried to memorize the feel of his body. This intimacy felt fleeting and I wanted to brand each detail in my memory.
“I’m sorry, Quinn,” he said softly.
“It was my fault,” I choked on the final word. “Whatever happened to me was bad enough that he couldn’t handle it and ended his life.”
I saw Mason’s jaw clench. In a tight voice, he asked, “Is that what he told you? He blamed you for his suicide?”
“He said I was warned to not go in the woods and I didn’t listen. That must be where something happened to me.”
His fingers moved to my chin and forced me to look at him. His cerulean eyes were dark and intense. Tension pulsed from his body as he said, “Quinn, you probably don’t want to hear this, but your dad was selfish and weak. You can’t allow him to get into your head and make you think it was somehow your fault…”
I shook my head at him. “I can’t be sure of that because I can only speculate over what happened.” I bit down on my lip and confessed, “I’ve been trying to find a spell to get my memories back.”
In the past couple of hours, Mason had somehow earned my trust. He had seen me at my most vulnerable. He could’ve called his aunt as soon as he came across me in the woods. He didn’t. Instead, he ventured out into a snowstorm and disposed of the gruesome dead birds to protect me.
Mason nodded. “I understand your reasons, but you’re not likely to find anything. Aunt Stella would hide the spell if she suspected you were looking for it.”
“I should’ve guessed that,” I groaned.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. He smirked as my eyes widened at the sentence. How did Mason and I suddenly become a “we” in the course of a couple of hours?
“You’ve done too much already. I mean I don’t think I’ll be able to live down throwing up in front of you…twice,” I said and squirmed over the thought. “Maybe it’s better if we kept our distance like before.”
His finger trailed a line down my face. I closed my eyes and relaxed into the sensation. “Is that what you really want?” he asked huskily.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. It was hard to concentrate with his proximity. His hand reached under my shirt and he pressed his palm flat against my back. The skin to skin contact was enthralling and my toes curled over how much I loved the sensation.
He smirked at my obvious lie. My body was betraying my brain. My heart raced and my breathing was labored. He gave me plenty of time to stop him from kissing me. It was the last thing I wanted.
Unlike the ferocity of our kisses months ago, these were gentle and leisurely. His mouth moved as if we had all of the time in the world. He grazed my lips with his before moving in for a deeper kiss. I gripped his neck as my need for him built.
Mason positioned his body over mine while I moved flat on my back. He took a minute to study me and smiled down at me. “You look incredibly sexy wearing my clothes.”
I blushed at the compliment. He rolled up the edge of the t-shirt to expose my belly. Goosebumps erupted on my forearms as he kissed the exposed skin. I felt the roughness of his cheeks from several days without shaving. His mouth trailed up, but stopped at my ribcage. I reached for him and he began to rain more urgent kisses on my mouth and neck.
His hands were gentle on my body. I didn’t feel mauled in the way I had felt at times with Tanner. Mason caressed me in a way that allowed a slow build of desire for him. I didn’t shrink from his touch as his hands ran across my chest. My acquiescence to his touch pleased him and he grew braver. His fingertips reached beneath my bra. I gasped and put a hand against his chest. His naughty boy smile was endearing.
“I’m sorry, guess I got carried away,” he apologized and moved back to his side of the bed. He kept his arm around me and eyed me carefully before questioning, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
I stiffened under his penetrating blue eyes. “It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it…” I swallowed hard and focused on a spot on the wall above on his wall as I admitted, “The things Tanner had said that night are true. We were together a year and I could never bring myself to sleep with him.”
“Quinn, I wasn’t expecting…”
I cut him off. “I’m not insinuating you were, but you should know this was one of the reasons I steered clear of you. All of my friends lost their virginity early on in high school, but every time Tanner tried to take things too far, I would feel scared.”
“Maybe you had a sixth sense about what an ass wipe he would turn out to be,” Mason replied. “Quinn, I like you. I
f you’re not ready to have sex, I’m not going to pressure you into it.” Mason noted my discomfort and tried to lighten the mood by cracking, “Give me some credit, I do have some self-control.”
“I just don’t know if I’ll ever feel comfortable enough. It wasn’t just a fear, it’s like I felt sick over the thought of taking things to that level…” I trailed off as I saw Mason’s mouth set in a grim line.
“I’m probably freaking you out, right?”
“It’s not that…” He kissed me tenderly and chastely on the lips before sitting up in the bed. He leaned against the headboard and looked deep in thought.
“Mason?” I said and sat up as well. After crisscrossing my legs, I gave him an uncertain look.
“It’s nothing,” he said, but I could hear the doubt in his voice.
My stomach churned and I feared that maybe I had shared too much. Amber had always been my confidante. With her out of my life, it had felt good to finally open up again to someone and talk honestly about all of my fears.
Mason was able to interpret the worry on my face and grabbed my hand to comfort me. “I don’t want to suggest anything to you that could be totally off-base.”
“Just tell me what you’re thinking,” I commanded and squeezed his hand for reassurance.
He sent me a sidelong glance. I could see his mind churning as I waited for him to speak. Finally, he said, “It’s just that you said your dad looked guilty, right?”
“Yes,” I replied slowly.
“Well, maybe he felt guilty over what happened to you because he was the one responsible,” Mason suggested. I tried to pull away from him, but he held firm onto my hand.
“No…”
“Just think about it for a minute. Your dad feels guilty over whatever happened when you were a kid and kills himself. When you see him again, he looks sad and ashamed. Maybe your mom wanted to protect you from knowing what he did,” he theorized.
“And what do you think he did?” I asked nervously. I glanced at his sad eyes and made the connection. “Because I’m freaked out about sex, you think my dad molested me?”
I tried to get off of the bed—away from Mason and his vicious accusations. He grabbed my forearms and held me in place. “I’m sorry if you’re upset. I told you I would help you figure out what happened and the whole situation with your dad just doesn’t sit right with me.”
I stopped struggling. I took a few breaths to regain control over my emotions. “I can see why you would think that,” I said shaking my head, “but it doesn’t feel like that’s what happened. I was happy to see him. I don’t think I would be so excited to meet him if he had abused me.”
Mason nodded. “It’s just a theory,” he said and I could tell he wasn’t going to push it. He added, “But I don’t want you going to see him again. It’s dangerous and I don’t trust that your father won’t hurt you in some way.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but honestly I had no desire to return to the spiritual plane. Although I didn’t feel in my heart that my father had abused me, it didn’t mean he was a good guy either. He had deserted my mother and me in our time of need.
“You’re nice to let me vent like this. You must think I’m a complete shit show,” I said half-jokingly.
“No, everyone has crap in their lives,” he countered.
“Oh really? Even you?” I asked.
His blue eyes turned stony and I realized I touched a nerve. “Sure I do.”
“Like what? I poured out my heart to you. Shouldn’t you share something about yourself? I barely know anything about you,” I claimed.
Mason lifted up the blanket and climbed out of the bed. After stretching his arms above his head, he put on a pair of jeans that had been left on the floor. I watched him with a shocked expression. I whispered, “Are you seriously going to shut me out right now?”
His expression was resigned when he turned back to face me. “I don’t do this stuff.” He gestured back and forth between us. “I don’t share my past. It’s not something I want to revisit.”
“But I just told you everything about me.” Even the most humiliating parts, I added silently.
“Maybe you were right about what you said on Christmas. We’re too different and it’s probably best if we kept a distance,” he stated flatly. His expression was at odds with what he was saying. He looked pained to say the words. I felt like I had whiplash from how quickly his mood had changed. “I can’t give you the relationship stuff where I share my feelings,” he said with disdain, “and you can’t give me what you want.” He looked over my body meaningfully.
“Go to hell, Mason,” I seethed and jumped out of bed. I felt wobbly for a second, but pushed through it. There was no way in hell I was going to stay another moment in his presence. “If this is your pathetic attempt at pushing me away because you don’t want to talk about your past, I feel very sorry for you.”
My words seemed to rankle him. “I don’t need your pity.”
I shook my head at him with disgust and left without another word. I had to wonder how the mere mention of his past made the connection we had developed completely dissolved.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mason and I went back to our avoidance dance. His aunt had given him a list of things to fix inside the house. This meant I had to constantly dart out of rooms to steer clear of him. I had so much to be grateful to him for and yet he had tainted it by putting up impenetrable walls. I had trusted him with my entire sordid history and he couldn’t reciprocate. It hurt more than I was willing to admit.
The nightmares worsened after the visit with my father. I would see things in my head that I couldn’t be sure were real or not. In my nightmares, I would see him take a handgun out of the safe and put it in his mouth. He did not hesitate as he pulled the trigger. The scene after was the most gruesome—my father’s crumpled form on the bathroom floor, blood soaking the floor tiles. Then, there would be screaming. In the end, I realized it was my screaming as I came out of the dream.
After a week of nightmares, Stella entered my bedroom one morning. Mason had picked her up the day after the snowstorm. She had believed our concocted story about food poisoning and didn’t press the issue. I was thankful. I didn’t need another conflict to add to my growing list.
She handed me a coffee cup. Steam billowed out of the top as I took a whiff of the contents. It definitely was one of Stella’s witchy concoctions. “You expect me to just drink this? What is it?”
“I’ve heard you screaming all week and figured you could use something to help you sleep. Nightmares?” Stella sat on the side of the bed and looked over at me. If I didn’t know the old witch better, I would swear there was concern in her expression.
“Yes…about my father,” I admitted.
Stella nodded in understanding. “Drink this. It will stop the dreams.”
I gave a hesitant smile and lifted the beverage to my lips. “What’s in it?”
“Some thyme, bay leaf, and sage. It should have a mild taste,” she replied.
The tea went down easily. I was desperate to rid my nights of the bad dreams. They were leaving me exhausted each morning. I needed to concentrate on getting through my training and finding out the truth before I left Chadwick House.
“Your mother called last night. She said you didn’t call her on Sunday and when she tried to call your cell phone, it was turned off.” Stella’s gray eyes watched my face. It was an effort to keep my expression neutral.
I used the avoidance technique with my mother as well. I had all intentions of confronting her and demanding answers. Why didn’t she share the true circumstances surrounding my father’s death? However, when the time came, I chickened out. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her over the phone that I met my dead father on a spiritual plane and he revealed his suicide. I didn’t want to hurt her by bombarding her with the truth. I also worried she would call Stella and tell her of my extracurricular activities.
“I don’t want to talk about it,”
I asserted. Stella may control some aspects of my life, but part of the bargain didn’t involve me having to confide in her.
She didn’t reply for a long time. “I’m not your enemy, you know.”
I laughed mirthlessly. “Well, you’re not exactly my friend either. I’m here to learn your spells and then I’m out of here in a year. You do realize that your legacy will be lost with me.”
I had been trying to get a rise out of her. Instead, her look was full of sadness. “Your fate is to continue practicing after I die.”
Her tone was certain. With an irritated sigh, I slammed down the teacup on my nightstand. “The deal was one year. Yes, magic is fascinating,” I acknowledged, “but I also don’t need to be in service to people’s wants and desires for the rest of my life. I see what magic can do to people. Sometimes it can bring temporary happiness, but most of the time it only brings misery.”
“That’s how you feel?”
“Of course because it’s the truth. Think about it. Even if we cast a love spell, do you think that’s going to make the person permanently happy?” I asked rhetorically before answering, “No. Because the entire time they’re together, the person will know the truth. Her lover is only with her because of magic.”
“We’re witches, Quinn. Once the client leaves here, we stop caring. Everyone has free will and it’s their choice to ask for our help.” Although Stella’s expression was cool, I saw her hands wringing her blouse.
“But where do we draw the line? Do you refuse clients who wish to hurt another person? Because many of these spells could ruin lives,” I countered.
“I never do a spell to kill someone,” she said steadily. “There are rules for our craft. I haven’t talked to you about it, but there are witches that govern us. Keep an eye on our activities to make sure we don’t step out of line.”
“And if we do?”
“They kill you,” she said shortly.
“What else aren’t we allowed to do?”
“Anything that goes against the laws of nature. Murder, rape, incest, and torture are a few examples,” she said casually as if she was speaking of the weather. Stella stood up. “What I’m offering you isn’t a bad life. I’m very wealthy from my years practicing and you have the abilities to be just as successful.”
The Memory Witch Page 15