Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest High #7)

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 now. 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.