Page 130 of Please Open Me
I thought removing her from Hartwood would fix it, but I was wrong. And, while trying to help, I ruined everything.
Her slice of domestic bliss, our relationship, her peace,gone.
And, watching her interview yesterday tore me in two. She didn’t evenlooklike herself anymore. So, while I agreed to pick her up, it wasn’t so I could drag her back into the lion's den of the Sons of Christ.
Instead, it was to pick up the broken pieces while I figured out something to keep her safe.
When I pulled up to the arrivals’ curb, my heart pounded so hard it rattled my teeth. Killing the radio, I grabbed the body spray I kept in my glove box and quickly doused myself before putting it back.
This was nothing. I was just picking up my ex-girlfriend, whom I’d thought about nonstop the last two weeks. No big deal. I could stay calm, cool, and–oh my God. There she was.
Mason-fucking-Albright.
A large black hoodie swallowed her frame, and between the hood and thick sunglasses, her face was almost entirely hidden. Luckily, I’d recognize her anywhere–unluckily, apparently, I wasn’t the only one.
People I hadn’t seen just moments ago swarmed her, cameras flashing in rapid-fire bursts so bright they rivaled the sun. People screamed her name and shoved microphones in her direction like she wasn’t even fucking human. She just pressed her hands to her ears and walked even faster.
My chest tightened as I wrestled with the urge to get out. My heart told me to help her, to shove every camera to the ground, punch a few paparazzi, and throw her over my shoulder like a god-damned neanderthal.
But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Because if I got out of the car, I didn’t know if she’d even let me touch her, and that scared me more than I cared to admit.
Frantically, she looked around before she noticed my car, then she broke into an outright run.
Her boots slammed against the brick sidewalk, and the wheels of her suitcase clattered behind her. Before I could even process what was going on, she tore the passenger door open, threw her suitcase into the back, and folded into her seat before slamming the door shut.
“Drive,” Mason ordered, hand clenched around her seatbelt.
And, I listened, pressing the pedal to the floor. My car took off so violently that it slammed me back against my seat. The engine roared as the crowd of the airport gave way to the open expanse of the highway. If it’d been any earlier, I might have fucking rear-ended someone, but seeing as it was ten PM on a Tuesday, we were pretty much the only thing on the road.
That knowledge helped me breathe a little easier, and I let off the gas just slightly. Glancing over, I took a moment to make sure Mason was wearing her seatbelt; of course, she was.
But, I also used that opportunity to give her another once over.
“Where’s the baby?” I asked, turning my attention back to the road.
“I–what?”
“The baby,” I repeated, grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Before all ofthishappened, you had a cute little bump. Where’s the baby Mason?”
A strange silence fell between us, and I wondered if that was the wrong thing to ask. For all I knew, the stress I’d directly put her under caused her to miscarry. It would have been her body’s natural reaction, but I’d feel like a piece of shit.
Mason shifted in her seat, and in my peripheral vision, I saw her slide the hood back and remove her sunglasses, folding them neatly before hanging them on her collar.
“Considering I just spent the last week being told I should reallygo on a dietand that I’velet myself go, I’d say the babies are still there.”
At first, her words barely registered. It all vanished into a haze of everything being fine, then a thorn of anger pierced my side.
“They told youwhat?” My words came out in a growl.
Mason didn’t look at me; instead, she pressed a hand to her stomach and exhaled.
“I let myself go, pregnancy isn’t an excuse to be unmarketable at a time I’m trying to reinvent myself.” She laughed apologetically.
“Theyknowthat you have a history of eating disorders and shouldn’t say that shit to you—right?”
Mason didn’t respond, and I was going to fucking kill someone.
