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Neither of us moves for a long time as he strokes the ends of my hair. I listen to the sound of his heartbeat and let my mind slowly calm down until I’m just memorizing the sound. Call me crazy, but I don’t want to forget.
“What did she do, Hannah?” Mason asks after a long, long time. He says it so quietly, I think I imagined it at first.
What didn’t she do?
I swallow past the lump in my throat, willing myself to form the words. I’ve never told anyone out loud just how bad my mother could be, but I don’t have the fight in me to keep it from him. Not anymore. Not when he’d risked his life multiple times to help me.
“She would . . . lock me in the darkness.”
I can’t decide if it feels good to get that off my chest or not.
“Why?”
Mason’s body is riddled with tension, but he doesn’t stop stroking my hair with the same gentle softness he did before. He smells so good, all I want to do is climb under the sheets with him and let him hold me, but I know that’s not what Mason Carpenter and I are. We’re not softness and comfort and thatfeeling of home you get when you find your person. We’re harsh and demanding. Two peas in a pod when there’s a job to do, but at each other’s throats when there’s nothing else to focus on but us.
He still hates me for that night. I still hate him for walking away.
“Whenever we were bad, she would lock us in this closet she had specially fitted to be light-tight. It started when we were kids, but it carried on when we moved to Sacramento.” Absentmindedly, I run my finger over a tattooed snake where it ends on his shoulder, thick muscles rippling under my finger. “She thought she could lock us away and it would set us straight. The darkness was just another punishment.”
“And Missy?”
I chuckle, though it lacks any real humor.
“Missy got the worst of Mom’s punishments. Eventually, she started doing everything she could to piss Mom off because the closet didn’t work on her anymore. I started doing everything I could to stay out of it. She locked me in the closet for hours when she found out I’d kissed you.”
Sickness pools in my stomach at the dark memories resurfacing. Something tapping on the other side of the door. My fists sore from trying to beat it open and my throat scratchy from begging for someone to let me out when I could swear something was lurking in the dark, waiting to drag me to hell.
Something evil and pitch-black with blood-red eyes staring from the void. Just like my mother’s soul.
“Look at me, Hannah.”
Carefully, I raise my gaze to his. Even in the darkness, he’s so handsome, it hurts to look at him. Stormy gaze. Hard jawline. Broad, bare shoulders, dark tattoos over strong muscles holding me steady.
“I’ve never told anyone that before. You must think I’m an idiot,” I half chuckle, though I feel like I’m going to be sick. If I look at him and see pity, I’ll shatter. I can’t.
I move to get up, but his hand on my back hardens, holding me there.
“No.”
His other hand comes up, gripping my chin to turn my gaze to his. When I meet it, something inside me burns hotter than the candle on the dresser behind me.
“The only thing here that’s going to hurt you, little doe, is me. And I plan on making it feel like fucking heaven when I do.”
My core warms at the dark vehemence in his voice. As if he’s a knight vowing to protect me with his life and I’m the princess reigning over a stolen castle. Perhaps he could be a knight. In shiny black armor with chinks and scuffs and a knack for making me feel steady when the ground is falling out from under my feet.
“Mason . . .” I whisper. Don’t ask me why. Maybe because of what he just said or maybe because my knees are starting to hurt from kneeling over him for so long. Hell, maybe I just want to say his name because it feels like I’ve been starved for him, even though I’ve barely had a taste.
Still . . . when his eyes lock with mine, heat floods my core and my demons seem to drift away.
And then I realize why I’m so drawn to Mason Carpenter, of all people.
It’s because when he looks at me, I feel like he’d burn the world to the ground just to watch me spit on the ashes.
Heat burns in my core, my clit thrumming with the beat of my heart. My hand rests on his bare shoulder and I’m suddenly acutely aware that I’m just in a baggy t-shirt and lacey pantiesthat leave nothing to the imagination while he’s in a set of boxers.
His jaw ticks when I lean into him, but he doesn’t stop me.
I close the distance between us, my pulse thrumming between my legs. I don’t know whether I’m seeking him or his comfort or maybe even just the way he makes me forget, but when my lips hover over his, my chest suddenly feels tight again.
