Page 29 of Mase
I stand frozen to the spot, drenched in an ice-cold drink. Again, for the second time in less than a week.
“Oops.” Levi smirks.
“Oops?” Travis’s voice sounds deadly.
“Yeah, oops.” Levi shrugs. “At least she’s wet for you.” He chuckles, and the cafeteria breaks in to fits of giggles while my eyes fill with tears. Just what the hell is his problem? It’s like he hates me.
Travis moves quickly, roaring as he charges toward Levi, and I step back just in time to witness him slam him to the ground, where he delivers blow after blow to Levi’s face. The sound of bones breaking finally snaps me out of my stunned state.
“Oh, shit, Trav.” I pull on his shirt while darting my gaze around the room, hoping there’s no staff around to see it. “Stop, please.” I try again, but he’s too consumed with anger. “Come on, Trav. Stop,” I plead helplessly.
When a whistle is blown, my heart sinks, and I release my grip on his shirt.
This is it; this is the end for Travis. He’s already retaking his final year after what went down last year, and now he won’t be able to graduate. All because of Levi fucking Williamson and his weird obsession with me.
FIFTEEN
MASE
I’ve spentthe morning reviewing Summer’s file I was given at the will reading, and although it’s filled with meaningless shit, it has given me an insight into her personality. My father kept close tabs on her, noting where she spent her free time and with who, and while I hate that information, I like the fact I have something to judge what kind of person she is, and it only makes me like her all the more.
She enjoys the outdoors, eating out, and has few friends. Her grades are good, excelling in literature, where she wrote an essay on how losing a parent affects your health. In social studies, she won a prestigious award for essay on ‘Family structures and the effects on children,’ and that caused sparks to fly in my chest when I read it. It gave me a deeper understanding of her pain. It’s something someone as innocent and sweet as her shouldn’t have had to endure, and I hate that she has.
While I was reading up on the girl who consumes my every thought, Owen had a team of security experts sent intothe mansion, and what they discovered made my stomach turn.
My father was a sadistic, controlling son of a bitch, and the thought of Summer growing up in his care terrifies me. Just what the hell has she witnessed and experienced under his care? I know firsthand how callous and cold he is, and only now do I wish I’d been around to protect her from his torment.
I’m not sure why I feel an incredible sense of protective possession toward her. Maybe it’s because she gave me her virginity, maybe it’s because I’m her guardian, her only family. I don’t fucking know. All I know is I want to keep her safe. I want to shout from the rooftop she’s mine to protect while meaning every damn word of it.
I twirl the small camera lens, the size of a dime, between my fingers, trying to figure out what my old man’s objective was. Yet, at the same time, I’m terrified to find out.
There’s a knock on my father’s office door, and before I open my mouth, Hugh has pushed it open. The fact he didn’t wait for me to call him has my jaw grinding from side to side. The fucker has overstayed his welcome in this house, and when I voiced my concerns to Owen, he suggested keeping him on until he’s accessed the footage from the cameras.
Oscar O’Connell has stepped in to help; a tech genius who also happens to be a part of a Mafia family, therefore, has some incredibly productive connections we’ve used once or twice ourselves when needed. Luca Varros, a Capo for the Varros family, being one of those connections. He’s also a notoriously sick bastard who has a basement for torturing the life out of those deserving such punishment. Shame my father never made it down the concrete steps to Luca’s playroom. I hear he has someone who loves to torment their victims with a cattle prod, of all things.
In between time, Owen has diverted all calls to the mansion to my phone and has placed all new firewalls on theinternet, as well as instructed our own security teams to oversee the property.
“Mason, I have to say, I’m concerned about the welfare of your father’s estate,” he says in a disgruntled tone that has my eyebrows raising. Prick has most definitely overstayed. “The cameras”—he gestures toward the camera between my fingertips—“were placed in the mansion for Miss Summer’s protection.”
“Protection against what?” I lift my head, meeting his eyes, and he slowly swallows.
“She can be a handful.”
I nod. “But what does she need protecting from?” I query, locking my gaze on him with a challenging glare. Not only does the fucker make no sense, but I also think he’s full of shit. He knows something. Hell, he probably knows everything.
“Your father wanted to be sure she was safe.”
“From what?” I counter, getting pissed that he’s averting my questions.
He shifts from foot to foot and scratches the back of his neck.
“What did my father want to keep her safe from?”
“I’ve no idea, sir.”
Hmm, back to referring to me as sir now since the pressure is on and he’s not as comfortable as when he first burst into the room.
“Don’t worry, I have her handled,” I reply. His eyes bounce over my face, searching for something. “That all?” I lift an eyebrow.
