8. Mason

Mason

8

Reed steps into the apartment with her laptop clutched to her chest.

When I got home earlier, I panicked arriving at an empty apartment. But then I remembered Reed mentioned she might spend some time on the roof today, so I went to check on her.

I almost walked over to where she was typing away on her laptop. But she was lost in whatever she was doing, and since it's rare to find her doing anything other than hiding in her room, I didn't want to interrupt. So I came back downstairs to cook her dinner instead.

I never cook for myself because there's no point when I'm the only one eating. I live off takeout and microwavable meals most of the time. But then a brunette bomb landed in the center of my life and upturned all my normal routines.

It doesn't feel right to grab the usual burger after work when I know she probably hasn't eaten all day. The same food I leave in the fridge in the morning is there when I get home. If she's only going to eat one meal, it might as well be halfway decent.

So for her, I'm cooking so I don't have to worry more than I already am. Sitting at work wondering how she's doing upstairs.

Has she eaten?

Has she had any water?

I never used to take breaks before Reed got here, but every day like clockwork, I climb the steps between appointments to check on her.

And when I get home for the night, I cook. No matter how late my appointment ran. It might be eleven, but I make something just so I know she won't go to bed hungry.

I'm doing what I can to be here for a girl who's placed her trust in me. I know Sage wishes she'd let it be him, but she's chosen me because she doesn't know about my past and doesn't know better.

Reed looks at me like I'm the good guy in all of this. And while I'll protect her, it doesn't mean I'm good for her. There's shit from my past that only her brother knows, and it would send her running to the Twisted Kings compound so fast, I'd never see her again.

Someday, I'm going to have to come clean.

Not today.

I can't let her go when she's at peace here, and I'm finally getting to a point with her where she's leaving her bed.

Today, she found the strength to do something outside of these four walls, and I want her to feel safe in taking those chances.

Reed walks into the kitchen just as I'm finishing up the bacon and flipping a pancake.

"You're home." She stops at the other side of the kitchen island.

Home.

Something about that word from her mouth floods my chest. Nothing has felt like home in so long that I forgot what those four letters together meant. But from her lips, with her standing looking up at me with pieces from her messy bun falling over her face, that's what this place is.

Home.

"My last appointment finished early."

Early being eight o'clock. But I normally work until at least nine, so I'm not surprised she wasn't expecting me.

Reed sets her laptop on the counter. Her fingers pause over it for a moment, and her eyes are a little red like she's been crying, making me wonder what she saw on there. But I don't ask. I don't bring anything up unless she wants to talk about it.

It can't be easy stepping slowly back into reality when she's been hiding away.

I've done that once—even if my reason for leaving was different from hers.

Reed doesn't immediately disappear to her room like I expect. Instead, she slides onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, watching me plate the pancakes.

Her bruises have mostly faded over the past couple weeks. And the blood that was pooled in the corner of one eye has receded to a point where I can only see the faint hint of it when she glances all the way to her right. Every day she looks more like the girl I first met.

Now if only she'd smile.

I didn't think it was possible to miss a smile when I'd only been around her once. But the way her eyes light up with her cheeks knocks me on my ass, and what I would give to see that kind of brightness shine out of her again.

"I was just checking in with work." Reed tugs at the bottom of her sweater.

The fact that she's explaining herself tells me what's bothering her isn't actually work-related, but I don't call her out on it. It's not my place to monitor what she's doing or who she's talking to. So even if I hate the thought that she might have been using her laptop to contact Carter, I bury the urge to stab this spatula through his temple.

"Everything good at work?"

"Yeah." Her eyes drift down to where I'm flipping another pancake. "My boss said to take all the time off I need. But I'll probably try to write again next week."

"You got a story in mind?" I pull one of the pancakes off the skillet.

"I do." She nods. "I'm working on a piece about Zane Hotels opening a new location in San Francisco. It's not what I'd like to be writing, but it pays the bills. And at least it's mostly fact hunting, so it's easier than emotionally-driven pieces."

"Zane Hotels?" My mouth dries.

"Yeah, there's some controversy surrounding the CEO and how he runs his business. Carter asked me to help paint a nice picture for the Board of Supervisors to help the deal go through." She shakes her head. "Not that I should still be doing him any favors."

I almost lose my grip on the spatula at what she's saying. Blood drains from my face.

I know better than to think you can outrun your problems, but with what Reed's saying, my stomach sinks.

"Why does Carter care about Zane Hotels?"

"He's an investor." She glances up at me. "Sorry, I shouldn't be talking about him."

That's not what bothers me. I get that she spent the last six years with this asshole, so his name is going to come up. But when Sage mentioned Carter had money and influence, I didn't realize just how true that was until this moment.

"I killed the conversation, didn't I? No one wants to hear about my asshole ex. I'm not even sure why I'm still talking about him." It's nearly a whisper, and I hate that she's beating herself up over things she can't control.

"It's not that." I shake my head, and when I look down, I see I'm burning a pancake. "Crap."

Turning off the skillet, I transfer the remaining pancakes to the plate. Luckily only one of them burned, and the rest are golden brown.

I pick the best-looking pancakes out of the stack and place them on a plate for Reed, passing it in her direction.

"Thanks." The corner of her mouth ticks up.

It's the closest thing to a smile I've seen this past week, even if it's just a hint.

She drowns her pancakes in syrup while I transfer the burned pancake to my plate so she isn't stuck eating it if she wants seconds. Enough butter and syrup at least make it edible.

Reed shoves a bite of pancake into her mouth, and it's the most beautiful thing. Something about watching this girl eat—especially when it's food I've made—has me wanting to cook for her. To take care of her.

What is it about her that makes me want to give her everything?

"So, what did you mean when you said it's not that? What is it then?" She takes another bite, not letting the conversation go.

"It's nothing." I shove pancake in my mouth.

"Didn't sound like nothing."

I set down my fork, leaning forward on the counter. I didn't plan on getting into this tonight—or ever. But there's no avoiding it now.

"Do you know my last name, Sticks?"

Her eyebrows pinch, and I see her trying to remember if I've ever told her.

I haven't. Just like she's never told me hers. The only reason I know her last name is Jackson is because of her brother.

She shakes her head.

"It's Zane."

For a moment, she's staring at me like she expects me to explain why it would matter. But when her eyes widen as realization hits, her entire face flushes. She blinks up at me, and I can practically feel the cogs in her brain working.

"Mason Zane?"

I nod.

"Like Zane Enterprises, Zane Hotels… CEO, Rick Zane."

"He's my father."

"Your father is Rick Zane?" Her jaw goes slack, and I get it.

We don't have much in common given he runs a casino empire in Vegas, and I work at a tattoo shop in downtown LA. And it makes it easy to hide that connection.

I don't even look like him, since I took after my mom's side of the family. And at one point in my life, I hoped it meant I wasn't really his kid, but no such luck.

"Unfortunately."

Reed's staring at me, and I can't tell what she's thinking. Most people want to be my best friend when they find out I'm heir to the Zane empire. But Reed isn't most people. She's curious, a journalist. And if I had to guess, the fact that my dad is making deals with her ex-boyfriend says it all.

"We aren't close." I take another bite of pancake. "I haven't talked to him since I left Vegas."

"Okay." Her eyes dart around, and I wish I could read what's running through her head. "So, your sister…"

At that, she trails off, and my chest aches. When I admitted this, I didn't think about the fact that Reed might have already researched my family.

"Sienna was your sister?"

"Yeah." I turn around and place my empty plate in the sink.

I grip the counter for a minute and take a deep breath. My sister isn't a subject I like to talk about. I can barely think about her and keep my head on straight, much less form words. But if Reed's been looking into the Zane controversies in Vegas, I have no doubt she knows what happened.

"I'm sorry, Mason. I didn't know."

I turn around, leaning against the counter and facing her. "You couldn't have."

"Still." Her gaze drops to her plate, where she's pushing a bite of pancake around the syrup. "What happened to her... I'm so sorry."

Reed thinks she knows how my sister died because she's probably read the chain of events how they played out in the press. But that's just the version my dad approved. Which is why she's looking at me with pity and not fear. She doesn't know what really happened that night Sienna died or what happened after.

The controversy is nothing compared to reality.

"Is that why you moved to LA?"

"I figured if I picked a big enough place, it'd be easier to disappear." I shrug. "Small world though."

"Apparently." She wets her lips, thinking that over. "I'll tell my editor I'm not finishing the article. I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was looking into your family."

"You don't have to do that for me."

"I know, but it's the right thing." She tucks the fallen pieces of hair behind her ears. "Besides, I don't need to do Carter any favors. Not anymore."

"Then don't."

I shouldn't suggest this. All I'm doing is opening myself up to Reed finding out the truth. But even if she hates me once she learns all my secrets, she deserves clarity when it comes to her ex-boyfriend. She needs to know the lengths a man must be willing to go to if he's working with my father.

Carter is no saint. He probably asked Reed to write this article to bury whatever back-end business dealings he's involved in. But maybe if I help her look in the right places, Reed can uncover the truth instead.

My father deserves it.

I deserve it.

"Write the story—or don't, it's up to you. But it's your career, Reed. You shouldn't let him take that from you. You're a good writer." I plant my hands on the counter and look down at her. "You put your all into your articles. It doesn't matter what picture Carter wanted you to paint. Take the narrative back and find the truth."

"You've read my work?"

"A couple of things Sage had around the shop," I lie.

I've read every article I could get my hands on because she's brilliant and has a way with words. And the moment I found out what she did for a living, I had to find a way to have more of her when I knew that's all I was going to get.

Again, the small tick in the corner of her mouth makes an appearance, and it reminds me of her smile.

"So, you think I should write the article?"

I nod, even though I know I'm planting a landmine.

"Do you think there's something to find?"

"If my father's involved, probably."

"Okay." She folds her hands on the counter. "Thanks, Mason."

"For what?"

"For believing in me."

My heart hammers as I stare into her big brown eyes.

I believe in her more than she realizes. Enough that I'm willing to ruin any chance I'll have with her when she finally finds out the truth.