by JC Hawke
“You didn’t go on holiday—you left because he sold the studio?”
“Yes, but don’t mistake my cowardliness for anything but that. When the time came, he did what he had to do. I should have stood by him.” He drops his head, staring at the pavement.
This is ridiculous. “Please, just tell me what’s going on. Erin is acting differently, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“I can’t tell you because it’s not for me to say, and Mason believes it’s not his story to tell either.” He grimaces as I step back from him. “Give him your trust and the rest will come.”
“You do understand how utterly impossible that is right now?”
He shrugs. “Where are you going, Nina?”
I shake my head, not having a clue but knowing I need the space. From everyone. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want company?” he calls to my retreating back.
“No.”
“But you will call, if you need anything?”
I nod my head. It’s impossible to stay mad at Vinny.
29
Mase
Charlie sits on my sofa with his head cradled in his hands while Elliot stands, staring at me in utter disbelief. I lean back against the window with my hands shoved deep in my pockets, giving them the time they need to process what I’ve just told them.
“When?” Charlie snaps, not lifting his head.
“That redhead I picked up in Melders the start of last year.”
“You pick up all the fucking time. You’re telling me it has been over twelve months?”
I nod once, and he visibly tenses. “Who the fuck have I been tracking?” he roars, his face hardening.
“I called them off.”
“You called them off,” he repeats my words, laughing sarcastically. His lip curls in disgust, but it’s nothing I didn’t expect. “More like you paid them off. Every week, I get that text, and you’re telling me it’s utter bollocks!”
“Mate, I—”
“Fuck off, Lowell.”
“That’s fucked,” Elliot mutters, running his hand across his mouth.
“I know.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
Charlie’s always been smart. He’s intuitive and doesn’t miss a trick.
“I didn’t know how you’d react if it came out. I didn’t want you blindsided.”
He sniggers under his breath and stands. “So someone has threatened you?”
“Not directly, but the night Lance showed up here, Cara, the redhead from Melders.” I run my tongue across my teeth as I spit her name. “She overheard us talking in the office.”
“She knows?” His brow furrows and he twists to face me.
I nod.
“And what did you tell her?”
“I panicked; let her make demands.” I drop my head, my mind reeling as the memories of that night seep in. “I fixed it, though, took control, found shit from her past and she hasn’t been a threat since.”
Until now.
“You could go to prison, you stupid fuck!” he sneers, rubbing a hand over his face. “And I wouldn’t be able to represent you. The fuck were you thinking?”
“My concern wasn’t for me.”
“Don’t act like you were protecting me,” he scoffs. “This is one big power trip to you.”
“Bullshit! And fuck you! You know full well what would have happened if I came to you. You’re a fucking lawyer, Aldridge. The fewer people who knew, the better!”
“Calm down, Mason,” Elliot warns.
“I get it! I get why, but you should have told me. I’m so fucking pissed with you.”
We stand in silence, nobody saying a word for the longest time.
“This redhead.” Charlie pulls out his phone. “What does she know?”
Nina
I have no idea how long I have been walking, but when I arrive at my apartment, the sun has set, leaving the streetlights as my only guide.
The apartment is exactly as I left it. It hasn’t been touched since the day after we got back from Paris.
Paris.
Looking down at my bangle, I turn it over and thumb the words with a bitter smile on my face. It seems like a lifetime ago now, and the reminder of the weekend we shared makes his betrayal hurt that much deeper.
If there is one thing I do know, it’s that the look in his eyes as he watched me leave was one of pure regret. If there is one thing I truly know about Mase–and maybe it makes me a naive fool–it’s that he would never intentionally hurt me. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
If my mother taught me anything, it was the fact she didn’t care; my hurt didn’t penetrate her like it should a mother. She could hurt me in one second then leave me the next—probably to go to work.
She never showed me a scrap of remorse.
So the look in Mason’s eyes, although I might not be used to it, I sure as hell know what it means. Because when he hurts, I hurt, and I saw that reflected in his eyes today. He cares, he hurts, and he shows remorse.
And I have no idea how to deal with that.
Mase
The belt of the treadmill flashes under my feet as it swirls around at a ferocious pace. My chest burns with every kilometre I hit, my body dripping with sweat as I push myself harder than I know I should. But I can’t stop. If I stop, I will go to her, and she’s not ready for that yet.
Nina left five days ago, and she isn’t answering her phone or her door. I’ve found Lucy and Megan useless. They won’t allow me anywhere near her right now. The radio silence was anticipated. I never expected her to stay. I wished she would, just once, but her pride would never allow her to.
I make it into the office early and throw myself into work for the day, knowing it’s the distraction I need. I don’t get a single interruption for three hours, and I know it’s George’s doing.
He seems to have picked up on my mood.
“Mason, I have Lance,” his voice chirps through the intercom.
“Send him in.”
My hand runs over my mouth as I stare down at the photo on my desk. It was taken in Paris. Nina is smiling at the camera, and you can tell she has turned and caught me by the way the dimple pops on her full cheek.
“Lowell.”
Lifting my eyes, I nod my head in greeting. “I told Charles and Elliot,” I tell him, straight to the point. Standing, I slide my hands into my pockets and round my desk, leaning back against it. “About Marcus.”
I knew Lance would be pissed about me telling them, but I also know he will back me. He always has.
“Right, and what now?” Lance asks, rolling his lips.
“Nothing, Charlie wants all we have, but otherwise, nothing changes.”
He nods his head. “Does Nina know?”
“No, and I want it to stay that way. I won’t have her involved.”
“I agree.”
“Agree with what?” Elliot asks, walking into the office, Charlie following in behind, both looking sharp in their Armani suits.
“I don’t want Nina to know–in fact.” Pushing off from the desk, I step closer to them, eyeing them all. “It goes no further than here. I won’t have anyone else dragged into this. Understand?”
Lance nods in understanding, and Elliot gives me a wink. “Pixie promise, mate.”
“Prick,” I tell him, unamused. Charlie stands statue-still, his hands in his pockets not saying a word. “Charles?”
He licks at his bottom lip. “And if she leaves you?”
“Then she leaves me. I’m pretty sure she already has.”
I swallow as my chest cracks. At least it feels like it’s cracking.
“Nah, Luce said she just needs time,” Elliot says, pulling out his phone.
“You’ve spoken to her?” I snap.
“No, I spoke to Lucy. Put your vagina away, Lowell.” He rolls his eyes.
Running my hand through my hair, I blow out a breath. I need to see her.
“Wh
y don’t you tell her? I trust her,” Charlie tells me.
Lance blows out a low whistle.
“I sold her fucking studio, Charlie! She doesn’t even know about the rest of it, and if she did, I can’t imagine she would come running to me open-armed. Do you?”
“I don’t fucking know.” He shrugs, moving to the sofa to sit.
“It’s better for everyone if it stays between us,” Lance mutters, and I know he’s right, even if that means I can’t give her an explanation.
“You okay?” I ask Charlie, resting my hand on his shoulder as I lean on the back of the sofa.
“Yeah. Surprisingly, I feel fucking fantastic.”
“Good, it’s about time.”
Nina
Mason hasn’t stopped calling. He turned up at my apartment late yesterday, but I pretended I wasn’t home. Maybe he knew I was in, but I’m not ready to face him yet, and why should I?
I know I need to talk to him. For a start I need answers, but I worry the moment I see him I will relent.
I’m weak for him, and it’s pathetic.
Lucy and Megan have been with me every evening, not wanting me to be alone, and Scarlet has phoned almost every day.
“Get in, loser. We’re going shopping.”
I spin around on the curb, smiling when I spot them all sitting in Scarlet’s black convertible. “Shopping?” I frown. “You said lunch. And it’s a Monday.”
“Lunch, after you work up an appetite shopping. Megs started three hours early this morning to make today happen, now get in and stop moaning.” Luce winks from the passenger seat as I slide into the back. “Besides, we need some killer outfits for our day sesh!”
“Nuh-uh. I am not going out, don’t even say it.”
“Okay,” Lucy agrees, and I frown again, looking to Megan, who is smiling beside me.
“What?”
“Nina, come on,” Megan coos.
“What? I don’t want to go out, I feel crappy.”
“We haven’t been out in weeks. You need a blowout, babe. Monday Mayhem is where it’s at!” She grabs my hand, and I notice Lucy’s smirk.
“Did you all plan this? You knew I’d say no.”
“No!” Scarlet sings, hand on heart. “I suggested Indian at home, but these bitches twisted my arm.”
“Cocktails, girls. We need cocktails.” Lucy grins, turning up the music.
Admittedly, it’s been a good day. Lucy and Megan haven’t stopped running around me while Scarlet has been trying to lift our moods. I adore them for it.
We sit on the terrace at Pons, eating a sharing platter whilst we sink more cocktails than food.
I can think of a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t be out spending money right now, but I know I need this, time with my girls chatting shit and getting day drunk.
What could go wrong?
Bouncing through the crowd, I make my way to the bar and order a round of shots. Downing two, I stack the tiny glasses and pay the barman. I lift the other three shots off the bar and dance my way back to the girls.
“Thanks!” Megan shouts over the music, stepping away from the guys she has been dancing with all night.
She eyes the shot I handed her and frowns. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“Sorry.” I wince, swaying on my feet.
“You need water!” Lucy chuckles as she appears at my side, grabbing my hand and pulling me in the direction of the bar.
But I don’t want water.
“I want to dance!” I pull her back and spin her around, but she trips on her heel and crumbles to the floor. “Oops.”
“Nina!” she shouts, laughing as she lies on her back.
“Come on.” I pull on her arm. “Let’s dance on the tables until they tell us off.”
She smiles up at me. “Why you so badass?”
We link arms and dance over to the tables at the back of the room. I pick one and then look down at my heels.
Thankfully, the guy who is sat at said table notices. Smirking, he lifts his pint and gestures to the table as if to tell me it’s all mine. He stands and offers me his hand, so I take it and use the chair he just vacated to climb up.
“Thank you!” I shout, pointing at him with a cheesy wink.
“What a babe.” Lucy nudges me, taking my hand as she climbs up behind me.
The DJ starts playing “Me & U” by Biscits and puts a shout out to the two hotties in the back, making us both cheer like a pair of teenage girls.
We draw attention from every eye in the club, and before long, all the girls are searching for a table to dance on.
I’m mid slut drop, just about to work my butt back up and into Lucy, when my eyes lock onto Mason.
Oh, Fuck.
30
Nina
He steps up to the edge of the table, his strong hands finding my waist as he lifts me effortlessly and places me on the ground. My feet hit the floor, and I stare at him through a drunken haze.
Now isn’t the time to do this.
“It hurts to look at your face,” I tell him.
He nods, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he watches me.
“I need a drink.” I leave him at the edge of the dance floor and walk to the bar, trying my best to keep my feet steady.
“Vodka cranberry, please,” I ask the barman.
The guy to my left smiles down at me, and I grin wide. “Hi!”
The barman’s eyes move past me, and I spin to see Mase shaking his finger ‘no’ at him.
“Who do you think you are?” I turn back around. “Yes, to the vodka cranberry, thanks,” I say, shaking my head.
Does he think he can tell me what to do? He can’t.
“You can’t!” I mutter when he steps up beside me, and he frowns down at me.
The handsome son of a bitch.
“You and your friend put on quite a show up there,” the guy to my right tells me, drawing my attention to him.
“We did, huh!” I chuckle. “I’m Nina.”
“Nina,” Mason growls at my back.
“Ugh, what? Why are you here? Who phoned you? Was it you?” I evil eye the guy beside me, and he puts his hands up in defence.
“Cause he’s an asshole, he sold my studio, and I’m so mad at him I hate him,” I slur.
He smirks at me. He’s a pretty boy. I give him a wink, but both my eyes squint shut. “I need water,” I announce.
I turn to the bar and find a pint of water already waiting for me.
Mason leans in to speak into my ear. “We’re leaving. Where is your bag?”
“Get off me.” I swat him away. “I’m drunk, not stupid, and I remember everything you know, Mase. Like the night you sold my studio, then came home and stuck it in my—”
“Nina—”
“You little prick.” I gulp my water, leaning into the guy beside me who clearly finds this conversation fascinating. “Is isn’t little,” I whisper-shout, then frown as I notice my words slur. “It’s isn’t little.”
He throws his head back, laughing as the glass is taken from me, and I’m thrown over a strong shoulder.
“Oh, how original of you, Mase. You gonna fuck me in your office now?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
I don’t try to fight him as he carries me through the club, but we still manage to draw plenty of attention. Men eye Mason as if to say poor guy, and well, the women? They watch Mason too. I don’t blame them, but as if I’d allow him the ego boost right now.
“Don’t be fooled, girls; he’s completely shit in bed.” I hold up my pinkie, wiggling it at the group of ladies seated near the entrance.
Mason’s hand shifts, gripping me high on my left leg and dangerously close to my underwear.
He squeezes the smooth skin there, making me gasp and jolt in his hold.
He walks us out of the club and across the street to the Bentley. “You can put me down, you know. I won’t run away.”
I slide down his body. Every solid, hard inch of it. It has my bod
y thrumming with want. But not need.
I don’t need this man.
Swallowing hard, I look up into his tired eyes, and I am instantly filled with worry. Has he been sleeping?
Why do I care?
“It’s kind of what you always do. Run.”
“That’s not fair.”
He looks off to the side, his jaw clenching. “Would you have come back? Are you going to come back?”
No.
“You’re always so grumpy, Mase. Lighten up. I did, and I feel great!” I go to tap his nose, but it ends up higher than I anticipated, and I catch him in the eye.
“Fuck,” he spews.
My face screws up in guilt, and I bare my teeth as I cringe. “I think I just need to go to bed.” I shake my head, giggling.
“Me fucking too! In!” He opens the passenger side door, and I slide inside.
Rounding the car, I see him rubbing at his eye, and it sets me off again. I snort through my nose before I start laughing uncontrollably.
“I used to think you were so beautiful when you laughed.” He shakes his head, turning the key in the ignition.
“I’m sorry, am I being a bitch?” I try to keep my face straight, but I’m too far gone and can’t control it.
“No, I—”
I snort again, cutting him off.
He shakes his head, not at all amused. “Jesus Christ.”
“I will st-op.”
“And now we have the hiccups,” he tuts.
“Oh, no,” I say, completely serious. “Not the hi-cups.”
I can see Mason’s smile, but I can only feel pure panic.
“Lexie Grey’s mum died of th-e hiccups.”