Fallen Crest Home (Fallen Crest High #6)(82)

His hand tightened around mine, and instead of pulling me to a stop, he tugged me to an outside patio area tucked back between a bunch of trees—a little oasis. No one else was there. There were a few tables, and each one had a light sitting on it.

He sat down, but I couldn’t. I wrapped my arms around myself, but then I yanked at my dress. “I can’t stand wearing this now.” Disgust flooded me. I was choking on it. “Fuck this matching shit.” If I could’ve ripped it off then and there, I would’ve. I eyed the stream flowing nearby. The fucking thing would go in there. I didn’t care what happened to it.

“Sam.”

I wanted to punch him. Mason’s voice was so calm and steady. I wanted him to rage with me, and then I remembered the police station. He had raged. It hadn’t gone so well.

“What?”

He pulled me onto his lap.

I waited, but he didn’t say anything. “What? No words of wisdom from the fucked-up son of James Kade?” I grimaced, hearing the bite in my words. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He looked into my eyes. “I am James’ son, and I am fucked-up regarding him. There was no insult in what you said, and even if there was, you know I’m not going to get mad.” His eyes softened, and he pulled my head down so he could kiss my temple. “Not with you.”

I turned so my back rested against his chest, and I watched the stream. I almost couldn’t look away from that small trickle of water. “She killed my little brother or sister, then I called 911, and she pretended she’d tried to kill herself.” I’d never forgive her for that. “I thought I was over that.”

“Hey!” Heather came toward us. She dropped into another seat at the table and said, “Logan sent me out here.” She turned to Mason. “He said something about owing your dad and to get your ass in there.” She turned to me, a crooked grin on her face as she reached into her purse. “I came out to keep you company.”

Mason looked at me.

I nodded. “Go.” I gestured to Heather. “She’s right, or Logan is. You owe your dad. You need to hold up your end of the deal.”

He groaned, but I stood up, and so did he. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before heading back inside the hotel.

Once he was gone, Heather pulled out a cigarette. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.”

Grabbing an ashtray from another table, she lit up. She took a quick drag before leaning back and exhaling. “I normally wouldn’t, but I’m a bit tense in there. This is a rich person’s wedding? Weddings I’ve gone to aren’t like that.”

“That was a wedding, but I don’t know.” Though I knew what she was referring to. There were an inordinate number of tanned and fit bodies, boobs that didn’t seem all-natural, and money. There was no other way to describe it. It was present in the clothes, the mannerisms, and even just the stuffiness in the air. James Kade was wealthy and important. It made sense he’d invite similar guests to his wedding.

“The women seem stuck-up.”

Heather was putting that mildly. I grinned at her. “You don’t have to be so nice.”

“I’m not.” She took another long drag. “But I think their dad is going to make them give a speech, so I’m not sure if you wanted to hear that or not?” She finished her cigarette quickly, grinding it out.

“You know me so well.”

Heather laughed, and as we went back inside, Channing stood in the opened doorway to the ballroom. He’d been waiting for us.

“Mason just took the microphone,” he said. “James made a point of saying they had to do a speech together. He won’t allow Logan to do his own.”

Heather moved to stand next to him. “Smart.”

Mason stood on the platform behind the bridal party’s table and laughed into the mic. Logan was right next to him.

“I have to admit, I’m shocked our dad’s asked us to do a speech.” A polite smattering of laughter came from the room, but Mason ignored them. His dad had turned to see him. “You sure about this?” Mason asked.

“Logan promised to be nice.”

Mason brought the mic closer to his mouth, his voice even louder. “But I didn’t.”

The laughter doubled from the tables, but there was a tension in the air, too.

I held my breath.

Mason seemed to be considering something, then his eyes found me in the back, and a resolve settled in.

I let out that breath. I reached for the doorframe and held on.

“Okay. You asked for it, Dad.”

I didn’t look at anyone else. No one else existed at that moment.

“I know we’re all here for these two, since they’re now wedded, and hopefully wedded in bliss. But we’ll all wait and see on that, won’t we?”

There was another polite round of chuckles, but it was like the rest of them were cluing in. This might not go as most toasts do.

“I know I’m supposed to stand up here and say a bunch of nice things.” Mason’s voice grew serious; there was no forced lightness now. The room grew quiet. “But I can’t do that. I can say a bunch of things about what I hope for their future. I hope they continue to be happy. I hope they’ll remain faithful to each other. I hope Analise won’t start drinking because even though that’s not what her problem was, I know it might’ve helped. I hope she won’t do anything to tear this family apart. I hope one day Logan and I will enjoy coming to the house again, the place we grew up. I hope our father will one day apologize to our mother for the endless stream of mistresses. I hope Logan will have a relationship with his father, because he didn’t growing up. I hope Samantha won’t fear her mother one day. I hope you both will be welcomed at my wedding one day.” He looked at me then. “I hope you’ll both be doting grandparents to my future children, and I hope I’ll let you see them, and maybe even have unsupervised sleepovers. I hope for a lot of things.”