“Where’s your dad?” I asked.
“Probably finishing up some work,” Matt said.
On a Sunday?
“And are you Donnelley or Miller?” Mrs. Caldwell asked, suddenly realizing there was another person in the room.
“Donnelley, ma’am,” he said.
“Well, go on and take a seat too.”
“I’m alright,” he said. “I’m just going to stay right here.”
“Nonsense. I’ve made plenty.”
Donnelley looked over at me like he was asking my permission. So now he wanted to know my opinion? He didn’t seem to care when there was a gun pointed at my head. But I couldn’t be mad at him. I knew Isabella was blackmailing him. And he’d gone straight to my father after the fact. And his face looked absolutely awful. Was the rest of him that beat up?
I patted the seat beside me. I wasn’t Isabella. I wasn’t a monster. And it looked like he was in as much pain as me. The worst part was that I was pretty sure my father had done it to him. Donnelley smiled and made his way over.
Mason wandered into the kitchen. His plaid pajama bottoms made me suddenly feel a lot less out of place. “Something smells good, Mom” he said.
“It’ll just be another minute.” She continued to stir. “Brooklyn is here. Have the two of you already met?”
Mason smiled over at me. “Yeah, we’ve met.” He patted Matt on the back before giving me a side hug. He sat down in the seat across from me. “You decided to come join us after all?”
“Mhm.” I’d forgotten how nice he’d been last night. Standing up for me in front of Isabella. Inviting me to stay with them so that I could avoid her. I should have taken him up on the offer immediately. I could have avoided a half-naked run around the city.
“So…” he said, his voice trailing off. “Are you okay?”
Matt put his arm behind me, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “Last night was definitely a little scary.”
“Are the rumors true?”
“What rumors?” I asked. Oh God, what were people already saying?
“Mason,” his mom said and put down a tray of hot chocolate. “Don’t antagonize Matthew’s girlfriend.”
I could feel my cheeks blushing. I kind of wanted to know what people were saying. But it probably involved the words whore or prostitute, so maybe it was better if I didn’t know.
“What happened to your face?” Mason asked Donnelley.
“Mason,” his mom scolded again. “Where are your manners?”
“It’s okay, ma’am,” Donnelley said. “I made a mistake last night.” He looked down at me. “I’m really sorry, Brooklyn. It won’t happen again.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said.
“Either way. You’re safe under my watch.”
Mrs. Caldwell looked uncomfortable. Matt pulled me closer like he was the one in charge of protecting me. And Mason still looked really curious.
“A mistake?” Mason asked. “How did a mistake lead to your face getting beat in?”
“Well, Mr. Pruitt…” Donnelley’s voice trailed off when someone cleared their throat behind us.
I turned to see a much older version of Matt staring at us. And he didn’t look very pleased.