Page 148 of Shamed
“What happened wasn’t your fault, Mase.” I lift a palm and press it to his stubbled cheek, watching as his lids flutter closed. “For a long time, I felt like everyone would be better off without me. And I hated myself for so long . . . those feelings all came together in the worst way that night.”
Turning his face, he kisses my palm, then he reaches for me, clutching me to his body. “I wouldn’t be better off without you.”
I breathe in his scent, choosing not to say anything in response. I’m still working on all of it, day by day.
Guilt will stay with me for the rest of my life, woven into the fabric of my being.
I can’t change what happened in the past.
I can’t give back the time I stole from Jacob.
But I can try to fix things going forward.
“Dylan is dead,” I say after a moment of silence. I feel Mase’s body tense against mine, and I pull back enough to look at his face, my eyes pinging back and forth between his. “First, he was attacked, then his car was vandalized, after that it was a hit and run that killed him.”
I swallow, considering my next words. Would he answer if I asked?
Do I want to know?
Am I being ridiculous for even considering it?
“Was it . . . was it you?”
The silence pulses between us. I hold my breath and he holds my gaze, steady and unyielding.
I decide, here and now, that even if it were him, it wouldn’t change how I feel about him. I would take that knowledge with me to the grave to protect him.
“Yes, I beat the shit out of him,” he answers, surprising me despite my asking. There’s not an ounce of remorse in his voice. “But no, I didn’t kill him. I can’t say I didn’t think about it, though. He attacked you, taunted you, and threatened you. He was a piece of shit who needed to be taken off the streets.” Inhaling, he pauses for a moment. “But I wouldn’t have been able to help you or my mom from prison.”
My mouth falls open as I stare at him, not knowing what to say.
Is there something wrong with me that my heart expands with love, instead of being disturbed by what he just said?
I push up to press a kiss to his cheek, lingering before laying back down on the pillow beside him. “Thank you.”
“For not killing him?”
“For fucking him up.”
The side of his mouth twitches. “You’re welcome.”
As if he needs to keep touching me, he runs his fingers through my hair again, the touch more than soothing for me.
“So, I guess it was all a coincidence then,” I muse.
“Or the universe took matters into its own hands.”
If that’s the case, then I need to thank the universe.
I sigh. “Dad suggested I wait a little while before I try anything, since Dylan only just died.”
“It might be a good idea after tonight’s incident as well.”
My brows dip. “You’re right. Who knows what they’ll think.”
I’m sure blaming a freshly dead man of raping me, after I already accused someone else, right after the attempted attack tonight, might make me seem mentally unstable, less believable.
I guess Iammentally unstable. My hospital stay is evidence of that.
