When Its Least Expected

by Heather Van Fleet

  “You want me. Admit it.”

  “Hell no. Never,” he growled. He was stronger than her. He was caught off balance, and any wrong move could have him falling on the floor and onto her feet. That’d just draw eyes which he didn’t want. He wanted peace, and he wanted this girl to go to hell.

  But just as he attempted his much needed getaway, a soft gasp punctured his ears and

  then his heart.

  He lifted his eyes, his body still positioned over Kylee’s but was now too shocked to

  move as the picture before him appeared in full force. Muddy brown eyes were there in all of their chocolate glory staring daggers into his.

  His mouth snapped shut, and his heart skipped one beat, then another, and another, as

  their gazes continued to hold. He should have moved. He should have shoved Kylee to the floor, stood up on two feet, and ran to her – Hollywood movie style, but he was paralyzed as he stared up at Harley. Holy mother of God, she was here, and damn, she looked edible, so deliciously enticing that his body was doing the thinking, not his head.

  Denim mini skirt with a very un-Harley white, off the shoulder sweater molded like clay

  against her perfect frame. A pair of thigh high boots covered her calves. Mason’s body swelled with need at the site of her. Still though, he hadn’t moved off of this tramp.

  “We’ve got an audience, baby. I’d say we give her a show.”

  He blinked, finally coming back to his senses. Then the little bitch took over his

  vulnerable moment kissing him again.

  It wasn’t long, not like he was sure she wanted, but it was enough to do the damage he so

  feared because when he finally shoved off of her and fell to the floor, Harley was gone.

  “Son of a bitch!” he roared, sitting up and rubbing both of his hands through his hair.

  He had to get to her. He had to have her in his arms. What she saw, it was all wrong. He

  wanted her – all of her, not that skank, but as he turned the corner to follow her out of the room, he was met head on, or should he say legs on, with the wheel chair of her brother. His hands went to his side. His entire body stiffened at David’s look. It was beyond hateful. Murderous.

  Mason cringed at the power behind his suddenly blackened eyes. The dude was out for

  blood. Mason struggled to get the apologetic excuse out of his mouth, but what was the point?

  He deserved his hatred. He’d gone and screwed shit up again.

  “You stupid son of a bitch,” David rammed him hard with the wheels of his chair,

  knocking him over onto the floor. David reached over and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him level with his face only to sock him right in the eye.

  Mason didn’t cry out in pain. He took his punishment in silence. His back arched, and he

  crumbled to his knees, but still he didn’t fight back. He deserved this, and why fight something you deserved? Holy shit! Who knew a dude with only one leg and in a wheel chair could hit so freaking hard!

  He found his neck somehow positioned between David’s one knees and his chair. Mason

  struggled to stay conscious as David continued to pummel him. Once with his right hand and

  another with his left. It all blurred together, and it didn’t matter. Mason had absolutely no desire to do anything about it. He’d take his punishment, and then he’d make things right with Harley.

  “I should kill you,” David spat, his face inches from Mason. The room was quiet, or was

  that deafness creeping in? He didn’t know.

  Minutes later, he found himself face down on the floor. His body unmoving that is until

  someone stuck a foot into his ribs. One foot, two feet. Over and over until he felt his ribs crack.

  That time a cry might have left his mouth, but that’s all he’d allow. His vision was so blurry that he couldn’t see who his new torturer was until his menacing face hovered low to the ground. His head rocked back and forth in a no. His breath smelled of smoke.

  It was Toby.

  “Paybacks a bitch, huh dude? She’s all mine now,” he added another kick. “Freak.”

  Mason pushed over onto his knees again, arching his back as his head and elbows went level

  with the floor. He was readying to get up to try and defend himself from this moron, but Toby’s boot collided with his stomach again, taking his last bit of strength with him.

  He was done for.

  “Oh my god, stop! Leave him alone, you asshole!” Maisy’s voice echoed off in the

  distance. Her hysterical cries roared. The emotion in his throat swelled. She shouldn’t have gotten involved.

  She grabbed him by the arms, pulling his head into her lap. With whispered words of

  comfort, she brushed his matted, bloody hair from his face. “Shh… Mason, you're going to be okay. Someone, please … call 911 …”

  “No,” he pulled at her forearm. She couldn’t call the police. David would get in trouble.

  That would kill Harley. He couldn’t hurt her anymore.

  “Where … is she?” he whispered painfully through his bloody, gritted teeth. She pushed

  him up into a sitting position, and he hissed.

  “Who, Mase? Harley?” He nodded once, pain radiated up his neck and into his head.

  “She left. She and that brute barbarian twin brother of hers.” He swayed as they stood. How he stood at all was a miracle.

  Maisy’s arm locked around his waist. He didn’t want to crush her, but he needed her. He

  had to stand up. He had to go to Harley. “They left, Mase! Now we need to get you to a hospital or something!”

  “No. No hospital. I need … to see her. Please, take me to her,” Mason pleaded, begged.

  Maisy had to understand him. He was desperate.

  “Mason, no. Not tonight, okay? You probably have a concussion and cracked ribs! Just

  go home, rest, and I’ll take you to her tomor –”

  “Tonight.” She shook her head, but she didn’t argue with him anymore.

  She frowned as they stepped outside onto the porch. He leaned back against the siding,

  welcoming the coolness against his battered body. She reached up to finger on a spot above his eye, and he winced, pulling away.

  “Please, mouse. You don’t understand. I can’t lose her.” He wiped his mouth with his

  sleeve. Maisy sighed.

  She pulled him down onto a bench, and he winced, wrapping a hand around his stomach

  and ribs. “Don’t. Move. Just let me grab Kylee, and then we can leave, alright?” Mason

  narrowed his eyes. The rage was building in his chest at the mention of that girl’s name. This was all her fault.

  “Screw Kylee! This is all happened because of her!” Maisy frowned down at him but

  didn’t respond as she turned to make her way into the house.

  His body sat ramrod straight as he tried to obey his sister, but his mind was racing. His

  heart was demanding that he run. If Harley didn’t want to see him or be with him then he’d have nothing left here. He shook her head. He couldn’t think like that. He had to try and fix this.

  “Well, I can see that this part of you hasn’t changed. That’s for sure. Give me the keys, Maisy. I’ll pull the car up, and we’ll take him home,” Kylee all but cackled as she thumped down the porch. Not a single bit of guilt or emotion other than evil satisfaction appeared on her face.

  “Man, she is a bitch, isn’t she?”

  “Always has been mouse. You just didn’t see it until now,” Mason grunted, pulling his

  aching body into a standing position.

  “Hell, Mase, I’m sorry I ever brought her here. Had I known she was going to act all

  slutty with you, then I’d have never let her come.”

  He scoffed, leaning his hands against the railing on the porch. “Well, at one point, Maisy, I didn’t mind that ‘slutty’ version of Ky
lee.” She narrowed her eyes accusingly at Mason as he stared back at her. He cringed, but it was time he finally admitted the truth.

  “Close the mouth, mouse,” he sighed and winced at the same time. “You’re gonna let the

  bugs in.”

  “No, Mase, you didn’t…”

  “Sure did.”

  “You slept with that slut? I can’t believe you fell for that trampy routine. She’s nasty!”

  Maisy visibly shivered, her lips curled in disgust.

  “Hell, she’s your best friend, and you feel that way about her?” Mason laughed, but regretted it when his ribs began to pulsate hard in his stomach.

  “Well, time changes everything, big brother. I learned that one from you.” Maisy grabbed

  his elbow, guiding him down the porch steps.

  Every single step was an agonizing feat, and he bit his lips to keep the moans from falling out. If his sister actually knew how messed up he felt, then she’d never let him go find Harley.

  Pain medication, that’s exactly what he needed. Too bad he’d need to take an entire bottle and then some to ease the agony settling in his heart.

  * * *

  Harley stared blankly out the car window. She was in a fog. Was she coming? Was she

  going? It was as if she was watching herself from the outside in.

  What in the hell had just happened?

  She hadn’t cried once. In fact the empty feeling inside her body was welcomed. That

  way, she didn’t have to actually feel the pain that demanded to be heard in her chest.

  The sound of her brother and Abigail arguing in the front seat slowly brought her back to

  reality, but she struggled with blinking and breathing, struggling to upkeep with her body’s simple needs.

  “Harley honey, what do you want to do? You know Mason is going to try and come over

  to your house. He’s already called your cell at least fifteen times!” Harley nodded, not even sure why.

  David’s reflection in the lighted mirror was that of pain and guilt, something to which she could always relate, but she didn’t look at him long. She didn’t want to see his sad eyes or his grimacing face because it all boiled down to one word – pity. She didn’t deserve pity. She

  deserved a swift kick in the ass for not seeing this coming.

  She didn’t deserve to be as happy as she was anyways, especially when her brother never

  would be.

  Then another almost humorous thought hit her. Who knew that her brother’s first time

  out to a party after months of social separation would end this way?

  “You didn’t kill him, did you, David?” She finally spoke the words she’d been

  dying to ask since they left. The last picture she had was when she went back and found Mason’s head shoved under her brother’s knees. Yeah, she couldn’t think about that now.

  What was done was done.

  He blanched, his eyes widening. Shock registered on his face, replacing moments later

  with anger. “No, you stupid girl, I didn’t kill him. Jeez.”

  “But he did beat the ever living crap out of him,” Abigail butted in like a proud mama

  bear. Harley rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything as she went back to window gaze at the star-filled night sky.

  “So, what do you want to do, Har? Go home? Go back to the party? What’s up?” Harley

  thought about it for a second, scratching her head. What did a normal girl do when she caught her boyfriend making out with a skanky girl?

  Get drunk, that’s what.

  “Well it’s only eleven, and David and I don’t have to be home for at least another three

  hours. I’d say we head back to the party. I need a drink.”

  Her eyes drifted curiously back towards her brother, steeling herself for his reaction. She clenched her palms against her lap wishing that he would, for once, let her be.

  “No, Har, you’re not going there again.” The words hung in the air, hitting Harley like a

  ton of bricks. He was obviously thinking about the last time she drank. How in the hell could she be so insensitive? Her emotions slipped up, and tears finally threatened to fall.

  “I’m sorry, David. I didn’t even think –“

  “Harley, stop. I’m not even talking about that night.” She cringed and readied another apology just as Abigail’s phone rang again.

  She looked in the mirror at Harley and gave her a ‘ what do you want me to do about it’

  kind of glare. Harley shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t care. If Abigail wanted to talk, then she couldn’t stop her.

  “Stop calling, Mason.” Harley stiffened. God, would it always hurt when she heard his

  name now? “She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Abigail paused. Harley waited on bated breath for the one-sided conversation to continue.

  Her tears finally fell but only two. She dried the rest away. That would be all he’d get.

  “Listen, you’ve got to understand how it looked to Harley, and there are no excuses in the

  world for you to make up for it. You can just stop trying.” More words passed between them.

  One set in particular caught her attention.

  “Alright, well maybe you need to go to the hospital or something first. You don’t sound

  too good.” Harley gripped her churning stomach with one hand, covering her mouth with the

  other. He must have been in bad shape for Abigail to suggest that.

  David cussed under his breath as he pounded a fist against the window. Harley on the

  other hand just tucked her knees under her chest and pulled herself into a tight backseat ball of self-worthlessness.

  God, this wasn’t happening…

  “Okay, Mason, I’ll give her the message. Take care of yourself.” Abigail hung up, and

  she and David shared a glance. Questioning words were on her lips as they pulled down the

  gravel road, heading towards the house that started it all. She was dying to know if Mason was okay, but then again, maybe it was better if she didn’t know.

  The party looked as if it was still going strong, and without any second thoughts or

  regrets as to what she was doing, Harley jumped out of the car, heading towards the front door.

  Bitter feelings trailed behind her as she inhaled the fresh rain that lingered in the air.

  David tried to holler something from the car window, but her mindset was focused on one thing right now.

  She was ready to drown that emotional garbage in her head away, replacing it the only

  way she knew how in that moment – with liquid courage.

  ***

  “Harley, come on. We’ve got to get you home, hon.” Abigail pulled at Harley’s sweater,

  obviously trying to coax her off her cold porcelain new bestie, but her head wouldn’t stop

  spinning. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. The puking had finally stopped at least, and the rim of the toilet felt so good, so cold under her heated face.

  The music from the room next door sent her into a high. The steady beat of the base

  soothed her, or was it the seven straight shots that she’d taken the moment she entered the house?

  Err, or was it nine shots…?

  “Leave me alone. Gonna … get … ride….” Her eyes threatened to shut, they were so

  heavy. Sleep was all she needed, but Abigail continued to push at her, pull at her hair. It hurt, yet she was still so numb.

  Numb was good.

  “Stop. You’re scaring me, Har. Daviiiiid!” Abigail’s voice rose. Harley could no longer

  hold herself up. Her head smacked the tile with a whoosh.

  It didn’t hurt.

  “Come on, Har. Don’t do this, please.” Abigail pulled on her arm. Her body was heavy

  and no longer her own. Another voice echoed in her ears just as a set of arms pulled her up to a standing
position. She couldn’t do it. Her legs were too heavy. They gave out the second they entered another room. A storm was brewing inside of her, and the alcohol in her stomach was the lightening. Everything went black and eerily quiet. Sanity was fighting against insanity. Life battled with death. Her mind was filled with nothingness and everything at the same time. The dizziness was stealing her away, and she’d gladly let it take her. The last thought that echoed in her mind was that three anxiety pills, five glasses of keg beer, and multiple shots of vodka were probably not a good mix.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Mason glanced down at his cell phone for the tenth time in the past five minutes. Nope,

  no calls. With his misery aching inside and out, he lounged in his car with his seat set back into the full reclining position. He winced, sitting up only so he could stare at the front of Harley’s house.

  It had been two and half hours since he left the party. She obviously wasn’t coming

  home. He reached up and rubbed his eyes as exhaustion took full control of his body. His head throbbed beyond a normal headache, and he pressed his fists into his temples, praying he could rid the pain. His ribs apparently were apparently feeling jealous of his head, and they continued to pummel him from the inside out like fists pounding on a punching back. He winced. It was nothing he couldn’t handle.

  His physical pain didn’t matter anyways. He just wanted to see her again. His emotions

  wouldn’t rest until he had her in his arms.

  When Mason had finally convinced a very hesitant Maisy that he felt well enough to

  drive, she agreed to let him take the car. She probably saw how messed up he was emotionally, so maybe that had been the final straw for her.

  Resolved that she wasn’t coming home any time soon, Mason reached for the ignition

  and readied to turn it on when a bright light flickered on inside the house, prompting Mason to withdraw his hand. He scooted forward in his seat. He winced as the pain lacerated throughout his insides, but the visions of Harley’s parents racing around like crazy in the house held him in place.

  His nerves suddenly attacked him. What in the hell was going on?

  His hands were on the wheel, ready to drive at a moment’s notice, and he carefully

  watched as Harley’s parents rushed out of the door. Luckily, they didn’t notice his car. He wouldn’t know what to say if they did spot him.