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“You’re scaring me, Mase.”
“I found him,” he whispers, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly.
My pulse roars in my ears, too afraid to read into his words but fucking terrified I’ve misunderstood at the same time. “Found who?” I rasp, pretending there is more than one person he could be talking about when we both know there isn’t.
Mason tips his head, the saddest yet most tender curve to his lips. “He’s at Carmichael Cemetery on Fredricks Street.”
I stop breathing.
My vision blurs.
I freeze.
My heart jolts, maybe even stops.
Hot streaks roll like waves down my cheeks, and I can’t think.
Can’t hear or see.
So I close my eyes, and behind my lids, there he is.
The warmth of his smile and the calm of his eyes.
Deaton…
I choke, gasping for air as I stumble to my feet and walk away.
Mason calls out, but I don’t stop. I break into a run, and I keep going.
I run and run and run until I can’t run anymore, and then I collapse, but not against the ground.
No, he’d never allow that.
Strong arms catch me, lowering with me, and then I’m cradled in warmth. Cocooned in it.
He found him.
Nearly seven months ago, Deaton was buried without my knowledge. I wasn’t invited, and I wasn’t allowed to attend. I was to blame for his death after all, so his family taunted me, sending me the image of his casket and refusing to tell me where he’d been laid to rest.
I cried myself to sleep for weeks after that, the gaping hole in my heart widening with the knowledge that I’d never get to say goodbye. Knowing he’d never have a visitor because his family didn’t care. The boy who gave me my little boy would be forever alone, and there was nothing I could do.
But the man beside me…
I lift my head, blinking through the storm in my eyes until a soft brown pair comes into view.
Mason.
My lips tremble, and I clench my teeth, my face falling into his touch when his hand lifts.
“You did this for me.”
“Have you not figured it out yet, Pretty Little?” Mason presses his forehead to mine. “I would do anything for you.”
My emotions rage, and my heart twists, full of fear and relief and a million other things.
We stare at each other, and when his mouth parts, my eyes fall to his lips.
Reaching out, I run my thumb along his lower one, my entire body shaking.
