Page 71 of Bear
“Whatever works, kid. You’ll get the job done at the game and tomorrow night. I know you will. Because you don’t have a choice. Now, fuck off home.”
Humiliation burns through me like wildfire.
But I don’t have time to respond despite the rage simmering within me, because there are agonized shouts coming from Mason and Duke, and my heart is too busy jamming into my throat to deal with him.
I race toward the commotion they’re making with only one thought in my head. My friends wouldn’t sound like they do unless there’s something desperately, horribly wrong.
THIRTY-TWO
MASON
“Lennon!”My chest heaves, and I blink hard as I fall to my knees beside her sprawled body. There’s no stopping the awful memories as they surge through me, and darkness creeps into my vision. I blink again, willing away the nightmarish scene my hiccupping brain has superimposed onto reality.Mom.Splayed out across the patio, her long blonde hair hiding her face, a thick puddle of red spreading around her. My throat catches on a choked sob.
Duke is beside me, hands moving over Lennon, checking for injuries, and finally nodding, a relieved expression washing over his face. Bear’s shouts of confusion as he joins us are a dull, far away sound as my ears buzz and buzz. Lennon? What the fuck is going on? How did she get here?
A flurry of movement snaps me out of my daze. Lennon gets to her hands and knees, then climbs to her feet. She holds her hands out in front of herself, as if to ward us away, her eyes a turbulent sea of blue terror.
“Lennon. Why’d you come inside? What happened?” Bear takes a small step toward her, his hands out, a mirror of hers.
“N-no. No. No, no, no.” She shakes her head, backing away. Her gaze darts among the three of us, her entire body shuddering. She sucks in a breath, turns, and runs.
“Goddammit,” Bear mutters under his breath as he takes off after her. She barely makes it to the side door before he hauls her against him.
Sobs break free from her throat, raw and gritty as the pain vibrating from her hits me right in the gut. Bear pushes through the door with Lennon in his arms, and knowing she’s safe with him, I lean forward, my eyes crashing shut. I bow my head in defeat. My demons won. Again.
“Mase,” Duke rasps, “we gotta go.”
I lift my head, staring into his eyes. “It keeps happening.” I swallow hard past the growing lump in my throat. “I saw her.”
“Look at me. It’s the past. You’re gonna be fine. Lennon’s gonna be okay, too. This is not the place to discuss the rest.” He purposefully glances out of the corner of his eye in the direction he wants me to follow.
My breath hitches and my heart slams around inside my chest. Fucking Tristan and Derek have come to see what the commotion is all about. Their brows go up, appraising me, and they shake their heads in disgust. Who knows what they think just happened. I heave a sigh of relief that Lennon has already taken off.
Duke is right. We need to get the fuck outta here before they say a goddamn word.
“See you tomorrow night, little brother.”
Duke flinches, and the deep, laughing voice has my stomach going sour and the bile rising at the back of my throat.
I refuse to meet Hunter’s eyes. “Yeah,” I bite out. “Looking forward to it.”
* * *
I don’t havea good feeling about anything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. The fucking sorority girl auction list. The meeting with Tristan and Derek. Lennon’s flip out combined with my own. It all adds up to one hot fucking mess.
But the thing I’m most disturbed by? Hands down, it was my inability to stay with Lennon in the moment when we found her on the floor like we did. Instead, I dove headlong into the hazy, gut-wrenching recollections of kneeling beside my mother as life bled from her.
Everything I touch becomes a disaster.
Duke’s whispered words after we’d returned to the house last night echo through my mind: “Mase. She needs you.” And my answer of “I’m sorry, I can’t help her like this,” had twisted a knife in my heart. The two of us in meltdown mode at the same time is no fucking good.
I don’t know what happened after that. I’d been too wrecked and emotionally battered to deal. And I hate that. Because even while I was losing it, I was longing for the one who understands something of the darkness in my head.
It’s killing me that I haven’t even checked in with her today.
I’ll get my chance, now, maybe. But what kind of conversation can we have with this motherfucking auction hanging over our damn heads?
Securing my belt around my waist, I give myself one last look in the mirror. I’ve dressed up as much as I ever do for stuff like this—white button-down with the collar open and sleeves rolled up. Charcoal-gray dress pants. Ready for whatever is coming our way, I run a hand through the hair that consistently falls into my face. Unsure if I’ll get a chance to come back up once I’m swallowed by the pre-event hustle going on downstairs, I grab the mask I’ll wear later. Just as I’m putting my phone into the pocket of my pants, it vibrates, so I pull it back out. It’s Duke.
