Page 27 of Please Save Me

Instantly, I wondered what she and Sebastian talked about.

Mason’s eyes remained wide, never leaving mine as I stepped closer. I forced a smile and pointed at the bowl of spinach.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” I commented.

I had seen her make her fair share of grilled cheese for the kids, but that’s where her skills ended; at least, that’s what I thought. Suddenly, it was like Mason remembered she needed to talk, too.

“I had to learn when I lived with my mom. It was either learn to cook or starve.” Mason spoke slow and soft as if she kept her tone light enough; this would go by quicker.

… Was she scared of me? Or just angry?

“Do you like cooking?” I stepped a little closer, and Mason seemed to shrink in on herself.

“I don’t mind it. Lucian called and said he was almost home, and I wanted to have dinner ready for everyone when they got back.”

I loved that Mason cared enough to do that, but I hated her being on her feet, especially after the scare last night.

“What can I do to help? Put me to work.” I told her.

Mason shook her head. “I got it. You can relax.”

I put a hand on her back, and Mason went stiffer than a board. I tried to push past the uneasy feeling that caused.

“I should be saying that toyou.” Instinctively, my hand went to her stomach.

She recoiled from my touch as a nervous squeak escaped her lips. I wondered if she could see the hurt on my face because she rushed to make this better.

“I just don’t want to be touched right now! It’s not you!” she promised.

I tried to smile at her excuse, but I couldn’t force it. Right now, I had no idea what Mason knew and what she didn’t, which meant I couldn’t comfort her.

But having her so obviously terrified made me feel like a monster.

“Alright, I’ll let you be. I, uh, I’m going to sit in the living room, I guess. If you need me, let me know.”

“Mhm, thank you, bye.” She waved me off.

I stood in shock for just a moment before doing as promised. I barely had a chance to sit down before I heard a soft, panicked sound from Mason.

I knew she didn’t want me to be close to her right now, but I still bolted out of my seat and to her side.

When I got back to the kitchen, Mason had one hand supporting the other as blood seeped from her thumb, splattering against the counter like drops of wet paint.

Her porcelain skin took on an ashen tone as her breathing shallowed. I moved on instinct as I grabbed a paper towel before bridging the gap between us.

“What happened?” I asked, pressing the wad of paper to her wounded hand.

Mason choked on a breath as she met my gaze. Her lips were parted, but her teeth were pressed together.

Since she didn’t answer me, I took matters into my own hands.

“Hold your breath. This might hurt a little, but I need to look at it.”

I coached, and she looked away, squeezing her eyes shut. Mason whimpered as I pulled the paper towel back and noticed a good chunk of the tip of her thumb was taken off. I couldn’t tell if it was enough to warrant a hospital visit or not.

“Is it bad?” She squeaked.

Well, it certainly isn’t good.

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