Mason (Fallen Crest High 0.5)(15)

Feeling that and knowing that was the truth stopped me. It would never matter. I was just a kid. I wasn’t more. Feeling that and digesting that sent a new wave of rage through me. I would matter. I wouldn’t be tossed away.

I wanted to kill him.

He saw it in me and moved back. Nate’s dad and the other guy locked hands. They reacted to the change in me and it switched back to where they were holding me back. I wanted to rip through them. I wanted to lunge for him. I wanted to hurt him how he hurt me, how he hurt Logan, how he had hurt his wife.

I couldn’t, though. Anything I said wouldn’t be taken seriously among these adults. They would laugh me off. They would say something to discredit everything I said and none of this would do a damn thing. At that, accepting that, I stood there and an anchor dropped in my gut. He won. He would get away with it. No one would care that his own son showed up to ruin his life. This wasn’t abnormal in their world.

So instead I said, “I hate you.”

“Mason.”

I shook my head. “I will continue to hate you.”

“Stop, son.”

“Don’t call me that. I may be your blood, but you haven’t raised me. You don’t care.” I gestured around the crowd. “They don’t care. You’ll get away with this. You can sleep with any woman and they won’t care about the damage they’re a part of.”

I couldn’t hit him. They were holding me back, but I needed to hurt something, anything. I scanned the crowd and my gaze zeroed in on a lady. I smirked. Her eyes got big and she took a step back. Too late. I called out to her, “I remember you. You were the car girl. He had you up against the car in our driveway.”

The man next to her whipped around to face her. “Is that true?”

She stood frozen. “No, uh—” She glanced at my dad.

The guy saw it and asked, “Why are you looking at him?”

She looked away. “I’m not.”

“You did. I just saw you.” The man looked at me for confirmation.

I nodded to him. “It’s true. And my mom saw the whole thing.”

“Mason,” my dad hissed, stepping closer, “stop it. You’re going to hurt people.”

This was it. This was how I could hurt him, by hurting them. That couple was already gone. The guy had taken off and she ran after him, but this room was full of targets. I started looking again and moved to a lady who had been standing next to the car girl. Of course. They must’ve been friends, but this one I remembered from the pool. Her mouth dropped when she saw I wasn’t looking away. I was only looking at her.

I pointed to her. “Red dress.” The rest of her friends turned to her. They were waiting for what I was going to spill. “You were in the pool with him.”

The guy next to her grabbed her arm. “You better tell me that’s not true, Vivienne.”

“I—” she began to look at my dad, but stopped.

I said further, “She had on a hot pink bikini. I remember because my friends and I went through the backyard to go into the basement and one of them grabbed her top. I think he still has it.”

The guy was shaking his head. His teeth were clenched together. “You did say you lost that top.”

“Dean, no—” She stopped. Her date was already backing away from her. With a disgusted sound, he turned and shoved through the crowd. She started after him, but stopped as she went past my dad and hissed at him, “Stop your son. He’s going to ruin everything!”

There was more. I could feel it. They could feel it too and the air in the room changed. Women started leaving; they didn’t want to be the next target. But people were looking around to see who was leaving. Who would leave? Who was guilty?

“Mason.” My dad reached past Nate’s dad and the other guy still holding me back. He grabbed my arm and started to pull me after him. “Stop this. Now.”

I shoved his arm off me. “You touch me again and we’re going to fight.” I was bigger. The coach had me on a weight training schedule, and I had begun to fill out more. I was bigger than him. My dad registered all of this and paused, cautious now. When he didn’t do or say anything, I laughed and looked for the next target.

I saw her. There was a couple in the corner by the bar. I pointed at her. “Yellow dress.”

She lifted her drink to me in a salute. “I’m single, kid. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Good to know.” I moved to the next one. A woman in another black dress was inching into the house, away from the patio. “You. Black dress.”

She hurried into the house.

It wouldn’t matter. I glanced to where she had been standing. A group was there, waiting for what I was going to say next. I knew which one was the husband right away. He was glaring at James, his jaw clenched, with the same look of violence in his eyes that I was feeling. He turned to me, waiting. I told him, “In his office. He was supposed to give me a ride to an away game and I heard them. When she left, her dress wasn’t zipped up all the way.”

The husband was seething. He didn’t go after his wife. He went for my dad. His fist was already formed. I watched it happen. My dad was focused on me. He was trying to figure out how to shut me up. He wasn’t looking at who was coming at him and then a woman screamed. The husband didn’t say anything. He was a foot from my dad when he threw the first punch.