Page 13 of Bear
“You know how I am. Small spaces. Closets.” She huffs out a disturbed laugh, her arms flailing wildly around her. “And I guess we can add lockers to the list. But this is—” Her eyes crash shut, and she shakes her head. “It’s so fucking wrong. It was my favorite.”
Before I can ask her favoritewhat,she shifts, grabbing my hand and leading me to the bathroom. I side-eye her but twist the doorknob and open the door. At my side, she jumps a fucking mile, which startles the shit out of both Mason and Duke. If it were possible for someone to physically come out of their own skin, Lennon would have done it the instant I opened the door. I warily glance at her again and clear my throat. “You want me to go in there?” My voice comes out all gruff, betraying my concern.
“Yes. I can’t. It’s hanging up inside.”
Craning my neck, I can see the cavernous closet in her bathroom standing wide open, but I can’t tell what she’s referring to. I look over my shoulder, meeting Mason’s eyes, silently pleading with him to do something for her.
“Lennon. Come stand here with us.” Mason holds a hand out to her.
Surprisingly, she does, but turns right back around so she has eyes on the bathroom door. “It freaked me the hell out. There’s no way I would have left the closet open like that, no matter how tired I was today. No way. And then…” A shudder runs through her entire body.
Mason slips an arm around her back, tugging her close to his side. To my surprise, not only does she let him touch her, but Duke’s hand finds its way to her shoulder, and he gives it a squeeze and doesn’t let go. Lennon stands perfectly still with a hand pressed over her heart while I turn and disappear into the closet on her behalf.
What. The. Fuck. It’s immediately obvious what’s got her so freaked out. There’s a pretty black dress made sordidly ugly by the red paint dripping down the front from the haphazard letterwthat was drawn on it.
My brain clicks back to tenth grade English class.The Scarlet Letter.Poor Hester Prynne was made to wear a red letteraon her clothing, which stood for adultery and was meant to shame her for her sins. If I had to make a guess, I’d say whoever did this was thinking along those basic lines. So…wfor whore?
I will put my fist through the face of the prick responsible for this. My stomach roils, and I take several deep breaths as I stare at it, not wanting to bring it out of the closet. But at the same time, Mason and Duke should see this bullshit, and we need it the fuck out of her room.
With my jaw locked, I pluck the hanger from where it was hooked and emerge from the closet. “This is pretty fucked. She’s right. Especially when you add in that whoever did this likely knows her well enough to give her the one-two punch of the closet shock on top of this bullshit.” I give the dress a pissed-off shake as I turn it around for them to see. “And this didn’t happen on campus. Some sick fuck was in our house. In her room.”
“What the fucking shit?” Mason grits out, his eyes ablaze as he takes in the ruined dress.
“Fuck! Seriously? Who the fuck does something like that?” Duke’s face burns red, an impressive scowl gracing his features.
At their outburst, Lennon flinches between them. Her gaze finds Mason’s, first. “A-After that day you drew on me, I wondered for one agonizing second if I should do something like this to all my clothing and walk around the house like that. But… I know better. And this does nothing but make me sick to my stomach.” The paint drips slowly from the letter, making it look like it’s bleeding.
“I don’t know what the hell to think.” Mason’s hold tightens on Lennon, and I’m surprised for a second time when Duke inches closer on her other side.
Is this Mason’s fault that someone would think to do this? Is it Duke’s? They’ve both slung that word—and worse—at her. Fuck. What a mess. And who? Who had access to her room and this fucking house except one of our own? My stomach pitches at the thought.
“You didn’t do it?” she asks, her head swiveling to meet each of our gazes in turn.
Mason shakes his head. “I was up—”
“No.” She stiffens, eyes flashing. “I don’t need to know where you were. You don’t need an alibi. I need you to tell me to my face that you had no part in this. I’ll believe what I see in your eyes more than I will any explanation.”
Unable to handle the idea that she’d think for one second I could have done this, I hang the dress from one of the knobs of the dresser, then come over to stand in front of her, tip her chin up with one finger, and stare steadily into her eyes. “I did not do that to you,” I rasp.
Duke grimaces, his fingers flexing into her skin until she turns her head to look at him. “I’ve said some shitty stuff, but no.” He shakes his head firmly. “No. Not a fucking chance in hell, Stella.”
Fuck, I hate that someone thinks it’s okay to continue jabbing away at her like this, and even worse that this person, whoever it is, has gotten under her skin on our watch.
Mason presses his lips against the side of her head. “Kintsukuroi, look at me.” She turns her head, and his eyes bore into hers. “Doesn’t matter what hasn’t yet been said between us. You know me. You do. This was not me.”
Lennon’s lips curve the slightest bit at his words, but then she nods and draws herself up. “If I choose to believe the three of you… and something inside me says I should… then that means someone else is doing this to me because I sure as hell didn’t ruin my favorite dress on purpose or lock myself inanywhere.”
“It makes me really fucking uncomfortable to say so, but this was done by either someone in this house or someone with access. We have a real fucking problem.”
She winces, her gaze darting to each of us before her eyes close and she shakes her head. “I was trying to blow it off, but yeah. This could have been Tucker. Or Pierre. And that’s just based on today.”
My head cocks to the side like an animal trying to decide whether or not to pounce. My fuckin’ teammate better not have had anything to do with this. “Why do you say Tucker? What’s that little fucker done?”
“First of all, the only one who could get away with calling him little is you, and you know it. But second, I embarrassed him in front of Warren earlier. I, uh…”
“Stella, spit it out.” Duke’s positively bristling at her side.
“He implied that my red knees must mean I was getting on them for the brotherhood. And he saw the bruising on my neck, too. Suggested I show him what he’d be buying at the auction.”
