Page 82 of Freed By Fire
I look at my father and stiffen. “Do you remember what happened when I came to visit you after those men broke into the house and made you call me?”
A myriad of emotions dance across his face as he stiffens. “I had to leave the house.”
“I got into an accident that day,” I tell him. “Katia and I got run off a bridge, and I helped drag her to safety. I didn’t even know if I would make it back, and I…”
Mason takes my hand in his and squeezes. “Your daughter is one of the strongest, bravest people I’ve met. A lot of people in her position would’ve faltered, but London has never. Not once.”
“This isn’t any of your business,” my father replies. “This is a private conversation.”
“You brought a knife into my office,” Mason responds. “You gave up your right to privacy the minute you set foot in my club.”
“Mason…”
He looks at me with a storm brewing behind his eyes. “No. Ask me for something else.”
I squeeze his hand and use my free hand to gesture to the couch in the middle of the room. “I think we should all sit down.”
I have no idea how I’m meant to diffuse the situation or keep it from spiraling any further.
Should I let Mason handle it?
Should I lead my parents outside until they have no choice but to leave?
I don’t like either of those options.
But I can’t deny the quiet thrill racing through me at the knowledge that they haven’t given up on me.
At least I still have a family, even if it isn’t for much longer.
I want to sit across from them, surrounded by the warmth and light of the fire, share sandwiches, and tell stories.
I want to show them Mason in the early-morning light, when the sun hits his face, bringing out the flecks of blue in his eyes.
I want so badly to make them see it all through my eyes.
And how will you do that? Are you going to have Mason save them from his enemies? Or bandage up their knees? Neither of those will work.
“Please,” I add. “After everything, you should at least hear me out.”
With a sigh, my mother wanders over to one of the armchairs and lowers herself into it. She sets her purse in her lap and clutches it tightly. Her eyes are wide as she looks around the office, taking in the embossed hardcover books and the Persian rug beneath her feet. Then, she offers me a tight smile.
After a long pause, my father sinks into the chair opposite her.
“He’s calm now,” I tell Mason. “Nothing will happen.”
“London…”
“Please.” I wait for him to look at me and muster a reassuring smile. “They won’t hurt me. You know that.”
Mason releases my hand.
“I’m going to see about some food,” he announces loudly. “Katia is outside.”
With one last look at me, Mason crosses over to the door and leaves the room. I walk across the room and lower myself onto the carpet between them. Then, I take their hands in mine and ignore the thumping in my chest.
“I know none of this is easy for you to hear,” I begin. “It means a lot to me that you came, but I’m still not going to leave. I don’t want the same things anymore.”
“London—”
