Page 63 of Shamed
I swallow, looking to the side. “Things change.”
He makes a contemplative sound, and I look back at him, watching him squint up at the snow as if in thought, then he tilts his head. “Weren’t you going to become a vet or something?”
Surprised, my head pulls back. “How did you know that?”
Mase’s gaze drops to the stairs, jaw clenching. “Jacob. He told me and the other guys you were talking about it in class and said you were both going to UIC.”
Jacob knew about that? And he was supposed to go to UIC as well? God, why does that piece of information amplify every torturous feeling, making it far worse?
Eyes drifting close, my heart squeezes painfully. “I wanted to be a vet at one point,” I say quietly, ignoring my bathroom drawer calling to me. “But as I said, things change.”
Things like ruining people’s lives.
Jacob can’t achieve his dreams right now, so how could I possibly ignore that and still aim for mine?
That day in Dylan’s office when everything changed flashes to my mind.“. . . he must be sitting in that prison cell, wishing nothing buthellon you.”Things were kind of shitty before then, but that’s the day my life took a nosedive into hell, no doubt exactly where Jacob wanted me.
He’s supposed to be released from prison soon, a thought that has been frequently circulating my mind. I can only hope that things are okay for him when he gets out.
“I’m sorry for bringing him up.”
My eyes pop open to see Mase watching me, lips downturned and regret on his face again.
Don’t have regrets for me, have them for your old friend.
I wish I could say those words out loud; wish I could tell Mase the truth so he wouldn’t harbor this hatred toward Jacob. But the threat Dylan made still lingers, ever present like a dark cloud over my head. And too many people have too much to lose.
I shake my head, trying to clear it away, the memories, the sadness, the guilt, just for one fucking second while I enjoy the snow and my tea.
“What about you?” I force out to change the subject. “Do you only teach those self-defense classes? When did you move here from Plainfield?”
“I moved here maybe six years ago, and no, I’m actually a personal trainer at the gym as well. It was an incidental gig that I fell into, and luckily for me, I ended up loving it. Been there for maybe five years?” He turns enough to stretch out his long legs, then looks up at the sky again. “Someday, I’d like to open my own place where I can offer more than just defense classes for women. Maybe have people there who can help them learn a craft or skill. Maybe have a therapist available for anyone who needs one.”
I stare at him, my heart giving another little squeeze. He wants to help women even more than he does now? What an incredibly lovely, selfless goal to have.
Mase yawns, and I think again how absurd it is that we’re sitting out here on the cold, uncomfortable steps, at a ridiculous hour.
He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be nice to me. He shouldn’t be protecting me.
“How are you getting back home?”
Mase looks up at me, one side of his lip lifting. “Always trying to get rid of me. I’ll be leaving soon, don’t worry.”
I push to my feet. “It’s just that the snow is getting heavier, and I’ll be going to bed. There’s no need to sit out here.”
He stands as well. “My truck is parked near the club. I’ll take the bus back there.”
I nod, feeling awful that he has to do that because of me. “Okay, well, thank you again. Um, I’m going to head inside now. I hope it’s not a long trip back home.”
Turning around, I trudge up the rest of the stairs and step back inside my apartment, leaning against the door once it’s closed, my stomach tight and throat dry.
That’s the most I’ve spoken to anyone inyears.
A knock on the door behind my head makes me jump.
I spin around, looking through the peephole, even though instinctually, I know it’s Mase.
He stands there, sprinkled with snow, the white contrasting his dark clothes, hair, and eyes. And in his hands, he’s holding the blanket and mug I gave him.
