Page 1 of Mase
PROLOGUE
MASE
TEN YEARS AGO …
My phone buzzesfrom beside me, and I groan as I roll over. It’s too damn early for my alarm. Finally freeing myself from the tousled sheets, I hang over the edge of my bed and rummage around on the dresser until my fingers latch onto my phone.
Slowly bringing it to my ear, I press the button to answer the call. “Yeah?”
“Hello. Am I speaking to Mr. Mason Campbell?”
“Yeah,” I grunt out while wiping the sleep from my eyes.
“Sir. This is Cheryl calling from New Jersey Hospital. I’m very sorry to inform you, but your wife has been involved in a traffic collision tonight.”
My heart rate spikes as I peer at the empty space in the bed beside me. Tara was meeting with her friends for a girls’ night—again, and knowing I was going to be up early in the morning for a meeting with the guys, she decided it was best if she just stayed over with them. Again.
“Is it possible for you to make your way over to us as soon as possible, please?”
I drag a hand over my head, trying to make sense of the call. Collision at 2:30 a.m.?
My throat becomes dry as anxiety rolls through me. “I-Is she okay?” I somehow manage to mumble, sliding off the bed, and start the process of getting dressed while the phone remains tucked at my neck.
The silence on the other end of the phone only adds to my fear. “It’s best you come down as soon as possible and discuss her injuries with a doctor, I’m afraid.”
My blood stills and a sickening feeling swells in the pit of my stomach. “She’s going to be okay, though, right?” A lump gathers in my throat at the thought. I lost my mom in a traffic accident; I can’t lose my wife too.
“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give you any more details.”
Irritation takes over me, but I find myself nodding. “I’ll be right there.” I end the call.
After double-checking I have my keys, I check the time on the clock, and my nostrils flare. I want to demand more details. I want to know what the hell happened to my wife, and what the hell she was thinking. The girls were supposed to be watching a movie and ordering takeout while having a pamper session. None of that warrants being out so late.
I push my feet into my sneakers and head out of the door, my gut telling me something else has changed in our marriage. As the heavy ball of dread deepens, I head out of the door, hoping and praying my wife is okay, even if our marriage isn’t.
My best friends and I are from affluent families; we met in boarding school and started our business, STORM Enterprises, five years ago. We already have a turnover in thebillions, and it’s only increasing. Growing and investing is our main goal right now, and with the connections, expertise, and money behind each of us, we’re on course for creating the most successful enterprise in the United States. Something my father would be proud of… if I spoke to him—which I don’t.
I never expected my life to take the turn it did, not in a million years.
Nobody tells you marriage is easy. Nope, not a damn soul. They all tell you it’s hard work, a process of love and trust, something you build on as you grow old together. When I married Tara straight out of high school, it was because she was pregnant, and I’ve never shied away from that fact, nor has she.
I wanted to do the right thing by her, and I was determined to be the father I never had to our baby. I was going to be a better man; the man I wish my father had been to me and the husband my mom deserved.
Being the head cheerleader for the opposing school, Tara was the hot, forbidden chick everyone wanted to date, and I was the lucky bastard who snagged her.
She didn’t come from money, but when I was dipping my dick, I didn’t fucking care; I just didn’t expect her to become pregnant a few weeks into us dating.
The moment Tara lost our baby, it felt like my world was coming to an end. I’d married the girl I barely had feelings for and promised her a future I could no longer see.
A family. A baby. That was what I signed up for, not the bullshit I later discovered about her.
Did I love her?
I don’t really know what love is. I suppose I had at some point to have fought so long for us.
She has a way of sucking you in and keeping you. She’s like a siren who lures you, making you feel like you’re getting everything you ever wanted, when in reality, you never wanted it to begin with.
Now, as I sit next to the hospital bed with my leg bouncing, I know I can’t take her secrets and manipulation any longer.
