Page 56 of Mason
“And then what?” Mason slides his gaze my way, his curiosity apparently piqued enough that he’ll act like a human again.
“He threw up a wall, just like you are now. Said something about all of you being bastards, and I shouldn’t trust any of you.” I give him an unapologetically smart smile and begin the walk back to the house on my own, throwing my middle finger into the air.
“He’s right, you know,” Mason shouts as his footsteps sound a few feet behind me. “We are bastards. Don’t you fucking forget it.”
* * *
“Where the fuckhave you two been?” Duke stands on the front steps, his piercing blue eyes blazing.
Ugh, just what I need is an overprotective stepbrother waiting to chew me out.I shrug, rolling my eyes at his overbearing tone. “What have you been doing, watching for us out the front window like we’re past curfew or something? It’s freaking four in the afternoon.”
Mason smirks, laughing a bit. I swear, his mood shifts give me the worst case of whiplash. He runs his hand over his jaw, eyeing Duke from under his hooded stare. “I told you I had her. It’s not a big fucking deal. Calm your tits, Duke. She’s fine.”
I move to go inside, but Duke shakes his head, grabbing hold of my arm. “Nope, we still need to talk about why you took off the way you did, especially after someone locked you in the bathroom, and we have no fucking idea how it happened.” His grip tightens on me until I wince in pain. I try to pull away, but he doesn’t budge.
“Let go of my arm, you fucking heathen,” I demand through clenched teeth.What the hell is his problem?
“Stella,” he heaves out, “what if—?” Duke doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, looking away as he releases my arm, his jaw locked up tight. His hands fist at his sides.
Cocking my head to the side, I study his body language. I do kind of wonder now about the nickname, but I’m really not up to asking him at the moment. I’m not opposed to jabbing at him a bit, though. “What are you saying? Were youworriedabout me, stepbrother?” My brows flick up on my forehead challenging him.
He exhales hard, crossing his arms over his chest as he brings his gaze back to mine. “I’m responsible for you, and I didn’t like seeing you like that. Who the fuck knows why that happened in the first place or who fucking did it. Were you a target or an unintended victim? There I am worrying over all those details, and then you weregone.”
My brows furrow as I watch the ever-changing emotion on his face. One minute he’s snarling about where we’ve been, and the next…Shit.I might have hit the nail on the head. Hewasworried about me, despite it being his asshole words that sent me running. I press my lips together, then murmur, “Look, I was pretty flustered after my panic attack and needed a bit of time to myself. I went to—” My eyes flick to Mason’s, and, as I suspected, he gives me a slight shake of his head.Yeah.I’m well aware it’s bad timing to bring up Juliette. “Never mind where I went.” I jerk my thumb toward Mason. “Creeper, here, followed me, and apparently watched while I took a nap. Really. That’s it. I woke up, spotted him, so we talked for a few minutes, then we came home.”
Mason’s lips twitch. “Creeper. Really? You weren’t saying that when we were locking lips, Kintsukuroi.” He shoots me a sly wink before raising his brows at Duke, then turning and walking back into the house, his stride full of swagger.
Shit.My eyes flick to Duke’s.
In an instant, he’s pivoted and grasped me by the neck, pulling me swiftly to him, our bodies coming together with a soft thud. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I leave them at my sides. His eyes bore into mine, searching. “So, is this a thing now? You and him?”
I can’t catch my breath. Something about being close to him makes my heart beat so fucking fast. His citrus-scented cologne invades my senses, swirling around inside my head until I can’t even think. Hesitantly, I shake my head. “I don’t know what it is.” I blink up at him. “And I don’t owe you an explanation.”
His fingers thread through the hair at the back of my head, holding me firmly in place. We stare at each other for several moments, then his other hand cups my jaw before he slides a firmly, almost punishing thumb over my lower lip. “Did he suck on this?” Continuing a path around to my upper lip, he applies enough pressure that if I had lipstick on, it would be smearing everywhere. “Or did you put these around his dick?”
My heart is pounding so damn hard in my chest, I hardly can make sense of his words. “What?”
“You going to be his little slut now?”
I blink hard, coming to my senses. My eyes narrow on his cruel blue ones. “Fuck you,” I spit, bringing my arms up and clawing at his sides until he releases me with a grunt. I take a half step back, which gives me enough room to bring my hand up, and smack his cheek. The violent crack echoes in the air around us. My face burns. “Fuck. You.”
TWENTY-NINE
BEAR
This houselately has had me in a constant state ofwhat the fuck. I walk in the door a little after five to dead quiet. It’s Thursday, and I’d expect there would be brothers roaming the kitchen, foraging for food. There are two types of bastards here: those who graze on anything they can put their hands on because they’re too hungry to wait and those who will wait around forever until I show up to ask if I’m making anything for dinner.
I don’t mind cooking; I actually find it relaxing when it’s just for me. Cooking for a small army, though? It’s exhausting, especially coming off a hard practice. I shrug. At least it would appear I’m off the hook for tonight.
Heading up the stairs to drop off my bag in my room, I allow my mind to wander to the upcoming weekend. The first game of the season is Saturday evening. My head is a bit foggy with everything I need to make happen this year. This is my final chance to prove myself, so I hope nothing gets in the way, most especially my father.
Interesting that I haven’t heard a fucking peep out of him, especially with this weekend’s game fast approaching. That can only mean he’s busy working on something else that’ll be a pain in my ass.
I wish I could just do my damn thing, but no. There’s always some sort of obstacle, something that my father feels I owe him for being born a Pierce. I hate to tell him, but I’d rather be anyone else’s son. Well, that’s a lie. Probably not Murdock’s or Tristan’s either. I know it sounds like a poor-little-rich-boy scenario, but I’d seriously give it all up just to be me, no last name attached. I’m convinced it would be an easier road to travel.
I frown. Neither Mason or Lennon are in their bedrooms, as their doors stand open, but I definitely hear music upstairs in the attic. That accounts for Mason’s whereabouts, at the very least. Leaving him be, I slip into my room for a minute to set my bag on the bench at the end of my bed, then pull out some sweaty clothes and toss them into the laundry. I stretch my arms over my head for a moment, glancing around, then figure I’ll go take another look downstairs. I especially want to talk to Lennon if she’s hiding somewhere because the way she was acting this morning was so damn strange. And then the whole ordeal with her getting stuck in the bathroom? I don’t know what to make of that, but I guess I’m putting on my fuckin’ Dad-of-the-house hat again. I need to know she’s okay.
Downstairs, I pass through the kitchen and duck my head into the dining room. Still no one.
