“She just wants to thank you,” he said, finally turning his full gaze on me.
But I shook my head harder. “For what?”
“Just...” He gritted his teeth, beginning to look desperate. “Sunday afternoon, come to our place. Bring Felicity if you want. Hell, we’ll drag Pick and his family over and make a party of it, have some lunch and—”
“Did you say party?” Ten popped over, interrupting us.
Mason froze, his eyes widening with horror until he shook his head and muttered, “No.”
Ten scowled. “Yeah, what the fuck ever. I heard you clear as day, ass licker. If Three, Parker, and the Ryans are going to be there, it’s a damn party. Thanks for inviting us. Yo, Gamble. Hart. Lunch at Lowe’s this Sunday.”
“Shit,” Mason ground out as Ten wandered off. He glanced at me, scowling. “I think she wanted her first meeting with you and the story she has to tell to be a bit more private than that.”
I sighed. “I’m not going to like this story, am I?”
He shrugged and sent me a sympathetic glance. “Probably not.”
That’s what I’d been afraid of. I decided then and there, I wasn’t going to his “party” on Sunday.
I went home that night, dismissing the entire invitation. I’d learned enough distressing things over the years; I didn’t need to discover more.
As I let myself into the quiet apartment, where Felicity had left on a single light in the kitchen, probably to help me see my way through, I pressed my back to the door and inhaled deeply. This place was already beginning to smell like her.
I drew in deep drudges, telling myself it would be best if I moved out and got as far away from her as possible, though all the while I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. From the moment I’d learned she worked at Forbidden, a part of me had always known I’d stick around. Six years ago, my life mission had been to be wherever she was, and my heart was still stuck on that goal.
Being this close to her was too addictive for me to leave.
I just had to figure out how to keep her at arm’s length and safe from me while I stayed so close.
And seconds after I told myself that, I stopped at her bedroom door before creeping it open to make sure she was okay. When I saw her sleeping deeply, the covers pulled up and tucked securely under her armpits with her cheek resting on her hands, I exhaled in relief.
Quietly, I shut the door and carried on to my room. After stripping to my boxers, I sat on the edge of the bed and eyed the half-eaten sandwich I’d left earlier. My stomach growled.
As much as I wanted to keep it for sentimental value, it’d probably insult her if I didn’t finish it, and the thought and care behind it would go to waste if I let it go bad. Besides, I was starving. So I downed the rest of the peanut butter and jelly.
Depression swamped me as I swallowed the last of the gift, though. I still wanted something of hers I could keep with me always, a memento to carry me through after she was separated from me again.
Just before I dropped off for the night, I wondered how creepy it would be for me to steal something from her, maybe something she’d just thrown out and didn’t want anymore, anything I could make my keepsake.
Yeah, that was probably full-blown cray-cray. Probably shouldn’t do that.
I drifted off, imagining what I’d take anyway. Something with her scent, something I’d seen her use to help me bring up her face later on, after she was gone again.
Articles of clothing and some of her hairpins were floating through my head when my dream transformed to fuzzy gruesome images. Hands gripping my hair and pulling, shoving me face-first into a concrete floor. Fists beating on me. Shanks gouging my flesh. Monsters ripping down my pants.