Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men, #1)(80)

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s all right.” He kissed my forehead. Then his fingers chased a teardrop down my jaw before skimming around to the back of my neck so he could touch my scar. A choked sob left his throat. “I swear, Reese. I’ll never let him find you. He won’t ever hurt you again.”

Then he dropped his hand from me and took a step back. The sorrow and pain in his eyes told me goodbye. Forever.

“Mason.” I reached for him.

He whirled away and marched toward Mrs. Garrison’s back door. She rested her half-dressed body against the doorjamb, and when he strode past her, his shoulder cracked against hers, knocking her off balance, before he disappeared inside.

“Perfect timing, Teresa,” Mrs. Garrison purred as she straightened herself. “I love it when he’s riled up…all wild and untamed, and extra aggressive. There’s just something so sensual about that boy when his passion has been unleashed.” She shivered and let out a dreamy sigh. “Thank you.” Then she too turned away and shut the door.

I stood there, staring at her house, trembling from head to toe.

Vibrating with outrage, I wanted to explode. I wanted to scream. I wanted to race inside and drag him back out, away from that evil, evil woman.

But he’d made his decision.

He’d chosen her.

And he’d done it for me.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE




I should’ve left. I should’ve gone home, curled into a ball in bed, and sobbed the rest of the night away.

But I couldn’t.

I slunk back to Mason’s house, and, feeling numb to the core, I let myself in through the unlocked back door. Collapsing into a chair at the kitchen table, I started my sob fest, shaking uncontrollably as I held on to my arms for dear life.

I swear, a piece of my soul tore away from my chest because I cried so hard it physically hurt right in the center of my breastbone, making proper breathing impossible.

My eyes were swollen, my nose was running like a sieve, and I was hyperventilating to the point of dizziness when the back door opened and Mason stepped wearily inside.

I had no idea how much time had passed. It didn’t feel like that long. Then again, it felt like forever.

I lifted my face. When he caught sight of me, he jerked to a halt in the doorway. The expression in his gaze was flighty; he wanted to run.

I pushed out of my chair, still hugging myself. “Are you…is it done?”

Guilt and devastation oozed off him. “Reese? What…what’re you doing here?”

“S-Sarah.” My voice was empty, my limbs were heavy and, my mind was muzzy. “Sarah was home alone.”

But we both knew that wasn’t why I was here.

He shook his head as if he wanted to deny my presence. “But your car’s not outside.”

“I parked a few blocks down and walked back. Did you really do it?”

“Christ.” He covered his face with both hands, and a hoarse moan of agony escaped him.

I stumbled forward, needing to hold him, needing him to hold me.

He shied away, refusing to look at me. “Don’t. I’m not clean.”

Oh, God. He’d really done it. I kept walking to him anyway.

He held up both hands and hissed. “Stop! Jesus, Reese. This is why we’re supposed to be just friends. This is why…God damn it!” He touched my face and looked me over, from my swollen, tear-stained eyes to my red nose. Then he set his palm flush against my heaving chest as if he could calm my stuttered breathing with his touch alone. “Look what I did to you. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I never wanted to hurt you. I would give anything to keep this from you.”

I clutched two handfuls of his shirt and balled them into my fists. “Then let me help you.”

He shook his head. “How?” He sounded broken and disheartened.

We shared a mutual ache between us. And the only way I could think to help myself was to help him and give him what he needed most. Drawing in a deep breath, I wiped at my wet cheeks. “Do you want to be clean?”

He glanced at me, his eyes crushed yet full of hope. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll clean you.”

When I reached for his hand, he let me interlace our fingers. I led him to the bathroom, and he followed without resistance.

He stopped a few steps inside and just stood there, staring at nothing, appearing almost comatose. I shut the door behind us and snagged the wire toilet paper bin that Dawn had sitting by the commode to tuck under the doorknob, keeping it closed.

“What a good idea,” Mason said behind me, his voice dazed. “Why hadn’t I ever thought to do that?”

I turned to send him a soft smile. “Because you need me around to show you the right way.”

He flinched. “I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have gone over there. I shouldn’t have—”

“Shh.” I grasped the hem of his shirt and began to pull it up. “No more regrets. What’s done is done and we’re not going to think about it again.”

He lifted his arms to help me take his shirt off, but he still asked, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m giving you a shower. I told you I was going to clean you and—”

The words strangled in my throat as I took in the bright red hickey on the upper right side of his chest.