Fallen Crest Forever

by Tijan

  She raised her chin, elongating her slender throat, and smiled. Almost. It was gone in a moment. The cold disdain never wavered from her eyes.

  “My epiphany was that while I don’t care for you, and I never will, my son does. He will never waver from his love, and I am here being the most motherly I’ll be in a long while. I don’t know what happened between you and Mason, but I would like you to fix it.”

  I almost laughed. Almost. “You’re telling me to fix it?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I am.”

  I couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore. “Who do you think you are?”

  Helen squared her gaze at me. She didn’t bat an eyelash. She didn’t flinch or look away. I could see some of Mason and Logan in her, and while I loved those qualities in them, I hated them in her. She replied, so smoothly, “I am the mother of two boys you love infinitely. That’s who I am, darling. Who are you?”

  I raised my own chin. There was no flinching from me either. “I’m family.”

  An approving look swept through her eyes, but she checked it, the coldness coming forth again. “Then do as I say. Fix it.”

  “No.”

  Her eyes widened, just a fraction. “No?” The beginning of a smile started, but it was just a tease. She kept it in check too.

  I would see Mason. It was time to talk to him. I had already decided to, but I would not be ordered to do it. I would not be ordered at all.

  “You may have birthed them, but you don’t give me orders. That’s not your place.”

  “I’m their mother.”

  “You’re not mine.”

  She drew in a breath. “I am your elder. Don’t you show respect to your elders?”

  “Not to you.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  I gave her a nice fuck-you smile. “You can go now.”

  We were at an impasse.

  She ignored my order, staring at me.

  I stared back.

  Neither of us looked away. Neither blinked. Neither flinched. Neither fidgeted.

  Then she broke, drawing her chin to her chest and gazing at me from under those long eyelashes. “I’m at a loss then. I want to ease my son’s pain, but you seem unwilling to do that.”

  I grunted. “They must get their intelligence from James.”

  Her eyes sharpened, but she only murmured, “What do you want then? Money?”

  She thought she could bribe me.

  “No?” Her nostrils flared. “What would you like? I can send you and Mason to Paris too? An all-expense paid trip? Or a cruise for you and your girlfriends? What would you like? What will it take for you to go and make my son not hurt anymore?”

  “Not a goddamn thing.” From you. “You don’t scare me, Helen. Have you not met Analise?”

  She laughed then. The sound rippled out of her, and she stopped, her hand resting on her throat like she’d surprised herself. Then she dropped it and started laughing again. She shook her head.

  “You’re right.” She kept laughing, finally wiping at the corners of her eyes. “You’re right. That’s what it is. That’s why they love you so much.” She shook a finger at me. “And you’re right about Analise. I thank you for implying I’m not as scary as her. That will help me rest better at night.” She dabbed some more at her eyes, the laughter leaving her. “I suddenly feel like a thirty-year-old, young and refreshed.”

  I frowned. I wasn’t sure what to think anymore about Helen.

  “Okay.” She seemed to speak to herself, pulling a handkerchief from her purse. Folding it into a small square, she smoothed out the ends. “I came here with the purpose to ask you to get back together with my son, something I never would’ve thought I’d do. I’ve only wanted you out of my son’s life, both of them actually, and now this. I am indeed humbled.” A half-bitter/half-amused laugh came from her. “So, what is the problem? I know it must be world-ending for you and Mason to have gone separate ways, or as separate as the two of you can be.”

  My mouth hung open an inch.

  Was Mason’s mother asking me because she cared?

  I closed my mouth. I didn’t know how to respond. I shifted my foot from side to side against the hallway’s carpet. “That’s none of your business. If Mason chooses to tell you, that’s his decision. You and I have no relationship.”

  She did that. Not me.

  “Okay.” She graced me with another soft smile, the disdain lifting a bit from her eyes. “Noted. And I didn’t expect you to tell me, but the mother in me had to try.” She looked away. “Mason doesn’t share much with me, ever.”

  There was a reason, but I kept quiet.

  She added, “Not that I blame him. Logan’s the one who shouldn’t confide in me, but he does sometimes. I still think of him as my little boy. Mason was . . . older. Angrier. He shielded Logan from a lot of it. Lord knows, he didn’t have to, but he stepped into the roles that James and I had ceased playing.”

  Her eyes grew haunted, and she looked over to me. Her lips pressed together in a tight smile. “I came tonight with a white flag. I’m not the nicest, and I won’t be the warmest person after this either, but I do wish to cease being your enemy. It’s something my son does not need to worry about.” She inclined her head. “I hope you have a good night, Samantha.”

  She didn’t wait for a response. She whisked past me, her silk pants flowing, and I had no doubt there was some fancy driver waiting for her in the apartment’s parking lot.

  Heather, Courtney, and Grace were all sitting in the kitchen, waiting for me.

  They looked up as I came in and Heather asked, “So?”

  I shrugged. “It was weirdly okay.”

  “What was she doing here?” Heather spread her hands in question.

  “I think she was trying to help Mason, in her own way.”

  It felt odd saying these things, but I couldn’t lie to them. Helen had only been a cold bitch to me, and she was still cold, but I wondered if she might no longer be a bitch.

  I slipped into the empty chair at the table. “Yeah. I think she and I might be . . .” These words felt so alien in my mouth. “ . . . Okay after this.”

  Then again, she didn’t really matter.

  Mason did.

  The next night Mason wanted to meet at the butterfly.

  When he said those two words, I knew exactly where he meant. He said the renovations had been completed, and this time he’d gotten permission from his dad for us to be there. They changed the security codes to the entire place, so Mason was forced to ask.

  This meant I got the codes too, and I was sitting in a lounge chair next to the pool when he walked inside.

  My heart soared.

  He came in with a fierceness. His eyes were blazing. As usual, he was gorgeous. Wearing jeans that molded perfectly to his trim waist, showcasing his firm upper legs, and hugging his ass, he twisted around to make sure the door was shut.

  I took a breath. I wanted to touch him and cry all at the same time.

  He wore a black Cain U football jacket, which molded to him just like his jeans, like perfection. His body was a well-oiled machine.

  “Hey.” He ran a hand over his black crew cut, and my hand actually jerked.

  That was my job. I got to run my hand over his hair. I did it when we were in bed. I had to tuck my hand on my lap to keep from going to him.

  “Hey.” I flinched at how hoarse my voice was. “Sorry.”

  Sadness flared in his eyes, replacing the fire. His shoulders slumped, and he pushed his hands into his pockets. He didn’t sit next to me, just leaned against the closest pole, which was ten feet away.

  He opened his mouth.

  I leaned forward to hear, but tensed at the same time.

  Then he closed it.

  I was right there with him. “It was weird coming here alone,” I said.

  “Yeah.” He looked away.

  His hand went back to his hair. I smiled bitterly. Logan did that all the time, but I’d never seen Mason do it until no
w. Why? Because his hands were usually touching me.

  I asked softly, and because I had to know, “What are you feeling right now?”

  His eyes met mine, searching.

  “Like my soul was yanked out of me,” he said.

  I could relate. “I’m sorry.”

  He lifted a shoulder, but looked away again. “I know why you left.”

  Technically, I hadn’t. I made the decision, but there were no words shared. Only looks and years of reading each other’s thoughts. I might’ve made the decision to go, but I was the one who hadn’t been able to do it. Mason did, so technically, it was just one more thing he did for me. He was the one who left.

  “Yeah.” I had no other words.

  He shook his head, letting out a deep sigh. “Where do we go from here? Do we share custody of Logan or something?”

  So quick. “Is that it?”

  “What?” He frowned, looking back at me again. I saw anguish there. His eyes darkened, and he blinked a few times, holding back tears.

  “You don’t want to talk about it?”

  I wanted him to. I needed him to.

  He raked a hand over his face and jaw. That chiseled and strong jaw that had faced down so many enemies—some of them for me, some for other loved ones, some for him, and some just because he’d been hurting at the time.

  He dropped his hand to his side. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m ashamed, Sam. I hate that it happened. I know I’m a part of it. And I know why you walked. To be honest, I was glad. A gun—fuck’s sake. He said it was for his dad, but who knows if that was true. What if he’d been more depressed that day? What if I hadn’t seen it coming? Depression translates to anger real quick for guys. I thought he was there for another fight, and I kept thinking, He won’t go away. I wanted him to leave, but not for me. Not even for Logan. For you. No matter what Quinn says, he still has a thing for you. I know he does. I see it in him.”

  “Adam.”

  “What?”

  “His name is Adam.”

  Some of the anger in him softened. “Adam. I broke him. I realize that now.” Mason’s voice broke, and I felt a new wave of my own tears forming.

  “We all did that,” I whispered.

  “No, Sam. It was me. You know it. I set the tone. I set the pace. Logan might be raring to go, but I can let him go or rein him in. It’s all on me. You know it is.”

  “Then why do I feel this?” I pressed my hands to my stomach, feeling guilt and shame there. They weren’t moving. I didn’t think they’d ever leave me. “I had a hand in it.”

  “No.” He shook his head, coming to sit on the lounger next to me. He reached forward to take my hand, then thought better of it.

  I reached out and caught his instead. I wanted that, and he expelled a ragged breath, his head falling down. He squeezed my hand.

  We sat there for a moment. Just holding hands again. No words.

  “I’ve been trying to understand where it all went dark, but I can’t,” he said. “What we do, all of us—it’s too much. We went too far with Adam. I’ve been able to walk the line, but this time we went over it. I can deal with protecting Logan, or myself, or Nate, but you . . . I can’t see that line when it comes to you. I get so angry, and I want to beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you. I enjoyed hitting Adam. I enjoyed rushing him and pushing him against my truck. I wished I could’ve hit him a second time, even after he was unconscious, even when I knew why I was hitting him. I still wanted to do it again. That’s too much.” He paused a beat. “I could kill someone. That’s how far I would go for you.”

  Were those words supposed to scare me? Maybe.

  Should I have been disgusted to hear them? Maybe.

  Should I have felt justified by leaving? Maybe.

  I felt none of that.

  I left because I was scared for him.

  “I know who you are.” I adjusted my hold on his hand, lacing our fingers together. “I fell in love with who you are. Who are you is not what I’m scared of.”

  He lifted his eyes.

  “You’re going to break someone one day. And someone’s going to die if we keep going as far as we do.”

  We. Not him. We. Us.

  “I remember when you told me you loved me. I remember when we left that bedroom and when I saw that Logan had slept with Miranda Stewart. I know he did it for me, and he was setting her up to protect me. I also know he did it because you told him to do it. You did that for me. That’s when I signed up for this.” I lifted our hands.

  “I thought Qui—Adam had a gun. I thought he was going to kill you. You were there because of me. He was there because of me. This whole thing was because I didn’t pull back when I should’ve. I don’t see that line when it comes to you.”

  I started to shake my head.

  “No, Sam. It killed me when I saw you were leaving. I saw it in your eyes, and I couldn’t even fight you because I knew it was right too. It still is right.”

  My heart clenched. My chest felt like it was going to cave in.

  “Something has to change,” he said. “I don’t know what, but something.”

  Was he . . . I couldn’t finish that thought. My stomach dropped to my feet.

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “We should stay like this.”

  I flinched. “Mason . . .” I started.

  I know he didn’t mean to do it, and I know this whole train started going because I climbed behind the wheel, but I still felt a knife slice into my chest at his words. This was right, but it hurt. It hurt so damned much.

  “Mason,” I whispered.

  He sighed. “I know.” His hand held onto mine so tightly. “I know.”

  “How can we do this?”

  He shook his head. He was pale. His eyes were tortured. “I don’t know. Can you stay where you are? Do you need a house or something?”

  God—another knife pushed in and made the cut even wider. “I’m okay.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded. “I have Garrett’s inheritance, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot.”

  I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t see. I just held onto his hand, not knowing the next time I would have it again.

  His eyes darkened. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll fix something. I just don’t know what yet.”

  This was the part of the conversation where we should have stood up to leave.

  We didn’t. We stayed.

  I just held on to his hand.

  “So, what’s the plan?”