22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Cameron

I’d been lucky enough to avoid awkward moments with Mason up until now, but I had to admit, this one took the cake. She sat in my truck, eyes fixed on the floor, stiff as a board. We’d barely exchanged hellos since she got in, and I couldn’t think of a single conversation topic that didn’t involve the baby. I couldn’t help it; last night, her stomach had just a subtle curve, but today, she looked almost ready to pop.

How far along did she say she was?

Shit. This was easily the most nerve-wracking thing to happen to me recently, and I needed a cigarette. But I couldn’t have one, because I promised her I’d quit.

God dammit .

My fingers went white as I gripped the steering wheel. I had to make sure nobody saw Mason in my car looking like this. One wrong move, and Dale would show up and crush this little slice of paradise I had spent years crafting.

I finally had independence, a respectable persona: I was the town preacher, a humble farmhand, helping out the old farmer’s granddaughter and her high school sweetheart. I could be with both Sophia and Lucian, and nobody questioned the nature of our relationship. But it seemed things had gone too smoothly for too long.

To top it all off, I had a migraine from hell.

Most of my anger subsided as Mason shifted uncomfortably in her seat—I was sure she could sense my foul mood. I needed to take a deep breath and focus on the now.

“I, uh, I got you a coffee too. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got you a vanilla iced latte,” I explained, trying my best to sound cheery. “It’s what Sophia normally drinks. It’s really sweet, and I thought you might enjoy it because you’re, well…”

Mason looked up at me. “Pregnant?”

I choked on air.

“No, nothing like that.”

Truthfully, it was part of the decision. I wanted to sneak some milk into her system to make sure she got some nutrients mixed in with her caffeine and water. I wasn’t sure if she had breakfast, but I didn’t want to risk being seen by offering to take her to a diner.

“I did it because you’re, well, sweet.”

My face went hot after I said that, so I looked away, desperately trying to focus on the road. Still, I couldn’t keep myself from glancing at her in my rearview mirror.

“You think I’m sweet?”

I swallowed hard and nodded once. Usually, I had a first-rate poker face, but all my emotional walls crumbled to dust around Mason. One soft push from her miniature hands and my carefully crafted defenses would disintegrate.

“I think you’re cute, too.”

Her blue eye was piercing as she studied me, but it was the intelligent spark in the endlessly deep brown eye that I found myself lost in. What kinds of thoughts lived behind those eyes?

Would she stay long enough for me to find out?

“Cameron?”

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

Shock caused me to slam on the brakes, and my truck skidded to a screeching halt in the middle of the barren road. Mason jerked forward, and I threw an arm over her chest to prevent her from getting whiplash.

“Do I— what ?” My breath came in shallow gasps.

Her expression was blank as she looked up at me. There was no hint of a smile to suggest that any of this was a joke.

“Do you love me?” she repeated, her voice filled with conviction.

I pressed my thumb under my chin and my fingers to my lips. My chest was hot, but my face was hotter.

What was I even supposed to say to that? I was too old for schoolboy crushes, and I stopped believing in ‘love at first sight’ long ago.

“Sweetpea, where is this coming from?”

She batted her lashes before turning to look out the window. “Lucian told me no one in your house loves based on appearances. Do. You. Love. Me?”

My eyes darted to her stomach, where our daughter was so visibly growing. Thoughts of every interaction I’d had with Mason flooded my brain like dirty water in a hurricane. Her coy smiles, the way she spoke to me like an equal despite her inconceivable fame. The way she opened up to me about her life when I was still a stranger to her. She may have been young, but I would have never guessed based on our conversations alone.

She was still staring at me, waiting for a response. I should’ve said no; God knows she’d‘ve been safer if she weren’t tangled up with me.

But I couldn’t lie to her.

“I... don’t know yet. Ain’t known you long enough to tell.” I paused, searching her expression for some kind of reaction. Her face was blank, though, so I continued:

“Do you... love me ?”

The selfish part of me hoped she did. I’d be rude not to entertain her feelings if that were the case, at least while she was still living here.

Mason looked back at me and tipped her head like she didn’t understand the question. After a moment, she blinked before turning her attention down.

“I don’t love anyone. Never have.”

Her response was robotic, almost too rehearsed to be true. Still, just the idea of that broke my heart in ways I didn’t think Mason was capable of. Sophia told me Mason had loved her and Lucian, and loved them well. In fact, I’d seen it with my own eyes. Mason’s love for them emanated from the picture I’d seen of them all.

“That ain’t true,” I told her. “It can’t be.”

A sliver of pink darted across her bottom lip as she focused her two-toned gaze on me.

“You don’t want me to love you.”

That ain’t for you to decide, Sweetpea.

“...Why?”

She turned back to the window, staring out at the vibrant autumn forest surrounding us.

“Forget it.”

“No, I ain’t gonna just forget that.” I pulled my truck off to the side of the road and cut the engine. I wanted to give Mason my full attention.

“You’re gonna be raising my daughter. I need to know why I shouldn’t love you.”

Mason’s cheeks sucked in ever-so-slightly, her nostrils flared, and her shoulders stiffened. In the short time I’d known her, I’d never seen her angry. But in that moment, I would’ve bet a whole lotta money that she was furious.

“Who exactly do you take yourself for?” Her words were tight, but her French accent coated her words with a layer of venom. “Lavender Joy Albright is my daughter. What have you done to earn the right to call her your own? You have not been to a doctor’s appointment. Before Saturday, you had no clue of her existence. You have not—”

“You ain’t even given me a chance to do any dad stuff.” Not sure I would’ve even if she had given me the opportunity, but I wasn’t going to sit there and let her berate me.

“Because you are not her father! Sebastian is.”

Her words stung. I had no idea where this sudden hatred had come from. Realistically, it was probably her hormones—or maybe trauma, like Sophia was saying. But, in my nicotine-deprived haze, I couldn’t understand why she’d gotten emotional. All I could see was that she was throwing a tantrum, and it pissed me off.

So instead of apologizing, I yelled:

“Sebastian ain’t nothin’ ! He’s just some bootlickin’ creep you’re settlin’ for!”

My booming voice startled Mason, and she instinctively curled into herself to hide from the noise. Silence fell, broken only by Mason’s shallow, ragged breaths. I bit my lip and prepared to apologize. But just as I’d collected myself, Mason pulled her hands away from her face. Her eyes blazed with blind fury.

“Don’t you dare talk about Sebastian like that!”

This snap was the loudest I’d ever heard her speak. Part of me was proud that she felt safe enough to show this much confidence around me, even if she was being a bitch for no reason. Why was she so hell-bent on defending that asshole? I’d encountered my fair share of sketchy people, but I’d never met anyone that made my skin crawl the way Sebastian did.

“I can talk about that slimy bastard however I want. There’s something wrong with that boy, and I don’t like him being around you.”

“Who the hell are you to tell me who I can’t be around?” She laughed spitefully.

“The father of your child? You’re the one who was so damn adamant about sleeping with me last night.” If she didn’t want more from our relationship, why would she have forced that?

Mason froze for a moment, then quickly moved her hand to try and unbuckle her seatbelt. I jolted forward, my hand engulfing hers just before she pressed the button.

Wrinkles formed on her forehead as her brows raised.

“Let go of me,” she warned, her gaze darting to my hand.

I tightened my grip, wrapping my fingers around her wrist like a bracelet.

“No. I ain’t letting you pitch a fit and walk away just because—”

“You need to let go, now .”

Fear overtook her voice as she struggled to get away from me. Did she actually think I was going to hurt her?

Quick, gasping breaths began to rock Mason’s entire body, but she continued to tug against me. My grip stayed rigid, mostly because I didn’t know what the hell to do. If I let go, would she run? We weren’t on Sophia’s land—if she got lost in the woods out here, we might never find her.

Mason’s skin paled as a tremble infected her hands.

“Let go of my wrist.” Her voice was shaky.

Tears bubbled in her eyes, but still, I remained frozen.

“Cameron, you need to let go. I need you to let go of me,” she pleaded. “Don’t touch my wrist. I don’t like my wrist being touched.”

While I was busy trying to comprehend the scene in front of me, Mason was working herself into a tizzy. Her eyes were wide with a mix of panic and horror, and her shallow gasps grew into full-blown hyperventilation. By the time I could rein in my thoughts enough to drop her wrist, Mason had melted down into a sobbing mess. A garbled stream of apologies flowed from beneath her tears:

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Cameron. I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” She kept going like that, holding her arms to her chest like she was afraid I’d grab them again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Mason, what are you sorry for?”

“I-I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry. Cameron, I’m sorry.”

“No, you shoulda yelled, and I shoulda listened.” I cleared my throat. “ I’m sorry.”

Still, she carried on as if she hadn’t heard me. Listening to her wailing, chest-heaving sobs, I was genuinely afraid I had hurt her, so I unbuckled her seatbelt and scooped her into my lap. She clutched at my shirt, apologizing constantly while crying into my chest. I rubbed her quivering back, trying to soothe her.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I cooed. “Everything’s fine. We’re good. It’s okay.”

The poor girl was damn near impossible to get calmed down. She still had her arms pressed against herself, crossed over her chest in a defensive position. Slowly, gently, I caressed her fingertips with my own, sliding them between her palm and her surprisingly prominent collarbone. She shook like an earthquake as I rolled her arm over, and what I saw had me seeing red once more.

Hidden under her tattoos were more scars than someone like Mason should’ve ever had. Most of them were thin, clean lines, and I was fairly certain she’d used some kind of razor to self-inflict them. But there was also a cluster of small round scars that were fuzzier around the edges, almost like burns. Way back when I lived in Kingsbury, my buddy Greg tazed himself just to see what it felt like, and that’s what these scars reminded me of.

I needed to know who hurt her, because I was gonna make damn sure they never did it again.

“Sweetpea, who did this to you?”

Stifled sobs echoed through the truck as Mason fought to catch her breath. She tried to force a smile, but it instantly fell. So, she took a deep, shuddering breath before wiping her eyes.

I offered her a cautious smile, something just to let her know I wasn’t mad at her. But the second I did; it was like something in her broke. She buried her face in her hands and bawled, somehow even louder than before. Once she started, she couldn’t stop, and I wondered just how long she’d been holding these tears.

“Do you need a few minutes before we talk?” I tried to keep my voice non-threatening.

Wait, would she even be able to talk about something that upset her this much? Was I wrong for asking her to?

She hiccupped through her tears, swatting them off her face like they physically pained her.

“This—isn’t y-your problem,” she choked.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I made peace with what I was about to do. So far, I’d done my best to keep Mason at arm’s length, though I was clearly doing a shit job. But if I wanted to give her the type of help she needed, I was gonna have to stop treating her like a stranger.

“Sweetpea, anything that makes you cry is my problem.”

Mason looked up at me, shocked. Her wide, dichromatic eyes bore into my soul as she searched for any trace of a lie. Breaking our gaze, she swallowed her sadness with a shuddering breath.

“Can we wait to talk about this until we get home? I don’t feel safe talking somewhere I can’t run.”

Being in Sebastian’s apartment was bad enough, but stepping into his bedroom felt outright wrong. Yet, that’s where Mason wanted to be. As soon as we were inside, she raced around the bed to grab a navy hoodie that was far too large to be hers. She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply, hugging it to her chest. Common sense told me it was Sebastian’s, but I hoped I was wrong.

“How long y’all been together?” I asked, hoping to break the tension.

She wandered over to the bed before sitting down. “The second I found out I was pregnant.”

Something about that specific timeline didn’t sit right with me, but if he made her happy, it’d be wrong for me to take that from her... even if he was a creep.

I sat beside Mason on the bed, and the mattress caved under my weight, pulling her closer.

“Is this alright, or do you need me further away?”

Mason looked up at me, then down at the fabric in her arms. Before I even realized what she was doing, she’d flipped herself around and crammed her feet into the space next to me. She was essentially standing on my thigh to keep from falling into the crevice I’d created. I could see more scars on her ankles, poor girl.

“I’m not a victim,” she stated as if responding to my thoughts.

“Never said you were.” I rested a hand on her calf, rubbing soft circles over her leggings.

Silence fell between us as she studied me. Something in her gaze made me think she didn’t trust me the same way she did last night, and that hurt like hell to see. I was nervous, but I needed to get something off my chest before she got in her head.

“I know we’re here to talk about you... but can I show you something first?”

She looked away as she nodded, and I was glad she did.

I held my breath as I started popping apart the buttons of my flannel. It was one thing to get naked in front of her when she was ten feet away in low light; it was another thing to bear myself to her fully. Lucian and Sophia didn’t even know about this until we’d been together for over a year.

My hands shook as I pulled open my shirt, but I’d like to blame that on nicotine withdrawal rather than nerves. I looked down at my hair-covered chest, running my fingers over the scars left by the flagellation I was forced to take part in as a teen. They were all over my back too, but those ones didn’t matter as much since I couldn’t normally see them. If I looked hard enough, I could find the symbol Dale carved into my chest right after he ‘adopted’ me. He tied me down, marked me as his property, and told me nobody could ever save me from him. Even now, as an adult, it left me feeling small.

“You can look,” I told her.

Her eyes slowly glided up to meet mine. After approximately two decades, the scars had faded—most of them were barely noticeable anymore. I wasn’t sure she could see them if I didn’t show her, which made this whole ordeal even harder.

“Can I have your hand?” I whispered. “I promise I won’t touch your wrist.”

She nodded, and I took her palm, running her fingers across the raised lines before turning my back to her. They were a little more visible there—she may have even noticed them last night. But as her fingertips whispered across my skin, I knew she could see them now.

My first instinct was to pull away... but I resisted, because I trusted Mason.

“What happened to you?” There was a quiet horror in her tone, and I was glad I couldn’t see the look on her face.

My chest swelled with a breath as Mason continued to explore my back. Her touch brought me an unexpected level of comfort.

“My... dad.” Calling Dale that always made my stomach churn, but he was listed as the father on Cameron Cole’s birth certificate. If I called him something else, it’d raise more questions than it answered.

“He, uh, was real big into biblical punishments. And if I did something he didn’t think Jesus would do... this happened.”

I gathered the courage to face her again and found no judgment in her beautifully mismatched gaze. Instead, it was like she understood me.

Somehow, that was worse.

“Is he the reason you became a preacher?”

I rolled my lips in for a moment before parting them.

“I don’t think I had much of a choice.” It was the best answer I could offer her.

I never realized how big Mason’s eyes were until they stayed focused on me this long. For what felt like an eternity, I bounced back and forth between the sky in one eye and the abyss in the other.

She glanced back down at the hoodie in her arms and found a loose string to pick at before she started talking.

“Do you ever think the world would be a better place if you didn’t exist? Not in the suicide way, but in the I-should-have-never-been-born way.”

Her question sat in the air like smoke in a house fire. It was suffocating and dark, but I couldn’t ignore it.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Did you ever have someone tell you that?”

I fought to keep the shock off my face.

“Have you?”

She nodded.

“My mom, my dad, Lucian’s dad... My dad was the only one who actually cared enough to try to fix me.” She paused for a moment to slide the hoodie off her lap. After taking a deep breath, she continued: “He had a special bracelet built for me. With the press of a button, he could shock me any time I was annoying, or talked too much, or acted in any way my fans wouldn’t like.”

She laughed, but I couldn’t understand why.

“I guess it was a brilliant idea, because I have no idea who I am without the persona he made for me.”

Her words ripped open a void in my chest. I wanted to be angry for her, but there was no amount of rage that could erase the suffering others had inflicted on her.

Her lashes were heavy as she looked down at one of her wrists, tracing her fingers over the circular scars. Against my better judgment, I reached for her hand again. She started to draw back, and I was prepared to let her—but at the last moment, she intertwined her fingers with mine. I leaned over and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. It just felt right.

“That sounds pathetic, doesn’t it?”

I shook my head. “It sounds like you just need a little help remembering. Judging by the way Sophia talks about you, I bet you’re an amazing person.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

The lingering despair on her face dissolved into the world’s smallest smile. She scooted a little closer to me, and I could smell her perfume. Sweet, fruity, and absolutely perfect for her.

Was I allowed to kiss Mason?

As she shifted to her knees, I realized I didn’t have a choice. She pressed her lips to mine with a kiss so divine I was sure the earth stopped spinning. I always thought sparks were supposed to fly when you kissed someone you loved for the first time, but that wasn’t the case with Mason. Instead, it felt like home. Like we were two halves of the same soul, separated for way too long.

When she pulled away, I pressed my forehead to hers. In response, she wound her fingers into the hair at the back of my neck. My breathing was deep, and my head was swimming.

As long as I was alive, nothing would ever hurt Mason again. That was a promise... I just needed time to think about how exactly I was going to keep it.

“Is Sophia busy?” Mason cautiously asked.

I thought for a minute. Sophia was always busy. There was always some meeting she had to attend, some phone call she needed to make. She spent more time in her office than she did anywhere else in the house. But I had a feeling she’d put work aside if Mason needed her.

“I can go check. Why?”

Mason hesitated.

“Being around her always used to calm me down, and I need that.”

I nodded as I took in her words. Sophia had said having Mason around would be good for all of us, and I wondered if she’d be the one who finally reminded Sophia to take time for herself, too.