None of it meant anything without Mason. Now that we’d expressed our feelings for one another, the need for him had grown exponentially.
I paused for a moment, another one of Mason’s warnings coming back to me. Ignoring it, I powered on my cell, when my ringtone immediately went off.
“You knew!” Rosemary cried with accusation as I answered. “You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me.”
Why in the hell did I answer the phone? I thought with exasperation. I could also see that I had about two-hundred voice mail messages from Rosemary, Brian, Mom and some unknown phone numbers.
“I’m sorry, Rosemary,” I said my mouth dry. “I couldn’t contact you in time before the video went—”
“Three months!” she wailed. “Three months I agonized over Ashley’s death, wondering who killed her, and the whole time you knew.” She sniffed and then a rush of air followed as if she was blowing her nose. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!”
“Rosemary, if you’ll just give me a chance to explain—”
“But you know what? It doesn’t matter anyway. My lawyer says that the Mayor will go to jail, no thanks to you.”
“Rosemary please—”
Click.
The nerve of that woman. She didn’t even give me a chance to speak. I didn’t understand her. Shouldn’t she have been happy that the video was posted on my blog, even if I hadn’t told her before it went live? She now knew who murdered her daughter, and hopefully she would finally have the closure she deserved.
I had no time to ponder her ungratefulness, because no sooner had I hung up, my mom was calling.
“Carly!” she snapped shrilly. “Where on earth have you been? I’ve been calling you for days!”
I gritted my teeth. I really didn’t feel like having this conversation right now. “Mom, I can’t talk right now.”
She ignored me. “Brian is furious. He says Mason is on the run from law enforcement and that you’ve been abetting him.”
“I know nothing about it,” I lied. “And if all you’ve done is call me to bitch and complain, I think I’ll be hanging up right about now.”
Cause I’m not in the mood for this shit, I thought.
Hanging up would be a good thing, because with the mental state I was in, it wouldn’t take much for me to go nuclear on my overbearing, over-critical, always-blame-me-for-everything-even-though-it-wasn’t-my-fucking-fault mother.
“You disgust me,” Mother hissed. “This is all your fault. Had you been nicer to Mason when he was growing up, he wouldn’t have turned out the way he did.”
I knew it, I thought. I knew this was coming.
If I didn’t hang up now, she’d be blaming me for her separation with Brian next.
“You know what, Mom? You can fuck off!”
“Don’t you dare hang up on me Carly Belle Washing—”
I clicked the hang-up button and rolled my eyes. Right as I hung up, Brian rang in.
I stared at his number and smiling face on my cell screen for a moment, wondering if I should answer it. Mom had just said that he was aware of me helping Mason. What would be the use in talking to him?
Because, if I can convince him Mason was doing the right thing, he might be able to help us get Mason out of trouble.
I knew Brian was mad at him for many reasons, but surely if he knew the truth of what was really going on, he would soften up.
On top of that, the man had money and connections. He wasn’t Donald Trump, but he was well off. Surely if I could get him our side he would be able to pull a few strings, at least when it came to Mason’s impending legal troubles.
Brimming with hope, I answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Where is Mason?” Brian demanded, not bothering with a greeting.
“What makes you think I know where he is?” I asked coyly.
“Don’t play games with me, Carly,” he snarled. “I know you’ve been harboring him.”
“He’s done nothing wrong,” I said, surprised at how ardent I sounded in support of Mason considering how pissed off I was at him. “The police are only after him because he exposed a murder done by the Mayor and massive corruption.”
“He’s a felon, that’s what he is!” Brian snapped. “And you have no business consorting with him or trying to cover for him.”
“You just misunderstand him,” I accused. I couldn’t understand why he was so hard on Mason. He was his son. You would think he was talking about a thug off the street. “You’ve never given him a chance.”
“That’s bullshit!” Brian raged. “The boy has had plenty of chances and has been nothing but trouble since the day he was born. I need to know where he’s at now or . . .”
His words trailed off, but I understood his meaning. If I didn’t tell him where Mason was, he was going to get the authorities involved.
I bit my lower lip, thinking. I couldn’t tell him where Mason was because I didn’t know where he went.
Still, I held out hope that Brian could see reason. Surely, if I could show him the video, he would finally understand.