Chapter 25: Twenty-four

Confession #23: I could make myself feel guilty over pretty much anything.

So Reese kept her word and saved the birthday party. Apparently, a little makeup and spider-murder were all thirteen-year-old girls needed to bond. Before the afternoon was over, Sarah’s three classmates seemed to adore her. Reese transformed the kitchen into a dance floor and turned up the music so they could all spin her chair around the linoleum floor.

Reese even managed to get rid of Patricia early. I have no idea what the two said to each other, but Patricia approached Reese in the kitchen, and after they shared a few words, Patricia took off. That was unlike her. I’d never seen anyone make her retreat before.

So, that’s when Reese became ~my~ hero.

The only problem with the rest of the party was that Reese took off early too when I wasn’t looking. I was hoping she’d stick around. She was the type to help with cleanup. I thought I’d get to talk to her then and make up for all those weeks I’d stayed away. But she disappeared, and then Mom took off to who-knew-where, so it ended up being just me and Sarah left to pick up the mess.

The next day was Monday. I’d planned to invade Reese’s table at lunch and eat with her, but my U.S. Politics professor had assigned us to fill out some online quiz and turn in our results the next time class met, so I spent my lunch break in the computer lab, figuring out if I leaned more toward imperialism or isolationism, populism or elitism, globalism or nationalism. By the time I finished that, I had to hurry to my last class of the day, then get ready for work at the Country Club right after that.

Tuesday through Thursday pretty much followed the same pattern, which frustrated me to no end. I don’t know what was up with these needy professors, suddenly wanting shit done from us, but I couldn’t wait to spend some time with Reese already. We texted, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted to be able to see her infectious grin and hear her laugh when she said something that amused her.

On Thursday night at the Country Club, I’d just parked a car in the garage and was returning to the valet station to hang up the customer’s keys when someone accosted me from the dark, popping out from the side of the building where he’d been waiting in the shadows for me to exit the garage.

“You lousy son of a bitch,” he growled, surging forward to shove me, making me stumble off-balance and trip away from him.

“What the hell?” I hissed catching myself and straightening into a defensive stance, ready to swing back if the shadow came at me again.

“What the fuck did you do to my mother?”

Wincing through the dark until I figured out who was even talking to me, I groaned when I realized it was only Ethan Riker.

“Jesus Christ, you moron.” I clutched my chest and blew out a relieved breath, straightening and no longer intimidated. “You gave me a heart attack.” Then I realized what he’d just said.

“Wait. I didn’t do ~anything~ to your mom. Why?”

I held my breath, worry mounting before he snarled, “Because she tried to kill herself and we had to check her into a mental health unit.”

“Oh, shit,” I breathed, running my hand through my hair and trying not to freak out. “When? Is she okay?”

What day had it been that she’d so insistently tried to get a hold of me?

I’d ignored her, just as her family had always done. Was ~I~ to blame for this? Why hadn’t I just answered one stupid text? Amanda was never any problem. It would’ve been nothing to just give her the hug she wanted and listen to her talk.

God dammit.

I’d messed up bad.

In front of me, Ethan ignited. “You have no fucking right to ask me that question.”

I scowled, really disliking this prick. “Believe it or not, your mom is my ~friend~. I can worry about her if I want to. How bad did she hurt herself? Is it life-threatening?”

I couldn’t even imagine what route she’d tried to take. Probably pills. She would’ve been too scared of guns or hangings, and all the blood involved in wrist cutting would turn her stomach. ~Christ, Amanda, why’d you do it~?

Her son rasped out a bitter laugh. “Friends?” he repeated. “You and ~my~ mom? Why the hell would my mother befriend someone like ~you~?”

I shrugged. The fuck if I knew.

Ethan snorted. “Then how do you expect me to believe that shit?”

“I don’t know,” I snapped. “The world is full of weird anomalies. I’d never believe someone as nice and sweet and kind as your mother could possibly have such a dick for a son, but here you are, anyway.”

“I broke into her phone,” he growled, stepping close and lowering his voice. “And she left you nineteen messages the night before she overdosed.”

“Fuck,” I said quietly, closing my eyes as regret washed over me. I rubbed my face with my hands, trying to remove the burn of guilt. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve just answered her.”

“No.” Ethan shoved me hard. “You should’ve never gotten involved with her in the first place. ~You~ caused this, you sick prick. She is ~twice~ your age.”

“Look, you have this all wrong,” I started.

“I don’t know what kind of lovers’ quarrel you two had—”

“Whoa! ~No~.” I shook my hands insistently. “There was no quarrel. And there certainly wasn’t any lovers’ ~anything~. That is ~so~ not what we—”

“You should’ve just kept it in your goddamn pants and never fucked her to begin with,” Ethan went on savagely.

“Well, I ~didn’t~ fuck her,” I growled. “So…”

This was irony, right here. There must be dozens of guys out there who could probably legitimately go after me for shit I ~had~ done with their mothers, or sisters, or wives, yet the only person who decided to confront me was freaking wrong. How whack was that?

“You…” His voice broke. “You ~hurt~ my mom.”

Shame pierced me because he was right about that. I had been one of the only people who’d ever listened to Amanda, and I had let her down. I did feel as if I’d caused this. His mom ~was~ hurt because of me.

“I’m sorry,” was all I could think to say, shaking my head as my gut burned. “But maybe she’s in the best place she should be right now. They can help her there. You can’t deny she needed ~something~.”

“Well, she never would’ve needed anything if you’d just fucking stayed away from her.” He shoved me a third time. “I’m going to make you pay for this. I’m going to—”

“Lowe!” the voice of one of my coworker’s called from around the side of the building, “Yo, Lowe, you out here, man?”

Ethan and I both looked toward the direction of the call.

“This isn’t over,” Ethan hissed, backing away. “You’ll pay for this. I’ll hit you where it hurts the most. Mark my words.”

He took off and was jogging away, disappearing into the dark just as Mac rounded the corner. “What…?” He paused in confusion when he found me just standing there.

“Dropped my keys,” I said, thinking quick as I lifted the set in my hand to jingle them. “Just found them.”

“Ah.” He cleared his throat and began to back away. “Well, good. Now, come relieve me. I need to take a piss something fierce.”

I laughed. “No problem.” Slapping him on the side of the arm, I followed him back to the valet station.

I couldn’t help but glance off into the direction that Ethan had run, though. I wasn’t worried about his threats. I think I’d gotten so many threats and blackmail issues lately I was becoming immune to them.

But I ~was~ worried about his mom.

I never thought I’d helped her that much by simply spending a few minutes letting her unload her worries and frustrations onto me. It made me wish…

I don’t even know.

It made me realize how powerful a simple kindness like listening to someone could be, though. It also made me want to call Reese and tell her about what had just happened, get her opinion on it. For some reason, I thought she’d know how to handle Riker. Aside from being a dick and clueless about how to deal with his mother, he wasn’t ~that~ bad of a guy. He just needed a little guidance.

While Mac was taking his break, I tried Amanda’s phone first. She didn’t answer and I didn’t leave a message. I tried Mental Health next, but, of course, there was no way they would give out any kind of information about their patients. I was just finishing that call when Mac returned from his break, so I couldn’t call Reese after that.

It was late by the time I got off work, so I decided to hold off until the next morning. Except, I slept in, so I decided to just find her on my lunch break and get some feedback then.

By the time I finally approached Reese, however, I was just so happy to see her and get a chance to talk to her again that I’d forgotten everything I’d wanted to discuss the night before.

“Hey.” I plopped my bag onto the bench seat across from her and drew in a deep, giddy breath when I smelled her familiar scent. ~God, yes~. “Sweet pea,” I nearly groaned.

Reese looked up and blinked before smacking a hand to her chest and gasping out fake shock. “What is this?” she said. “You’re sitting with me…~in public~? Have the horny guy urges subsided then? Have I lost my seductive appeal completely? Say it ain’t so.”

I laughed, missing her sense of humor. “No,” I answered as I sat. “They have not subsided. I’ve simply come to the conclusion we’re going to have to accept that the urges will probably be a permanent facet of our relationship from here on out. And if you say you can control yours, then I’ll try to control mine.”

She sniffed, unimpressed. “Big of you.”

Shaking my head, I continued to chuckle. “That and I can’t see your nose wrinkling from all the way across the courtyard. You have no idea how much I’ve missed that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She fluttered out an unimpressed hand. “I bet you’re just falling behind in calculus and need my help.”

“Well… Since you mentioned it…” With a shrug, I pulled my calculus book from my bag and flipped it open. Searching for a pencil, I asked, “What’re you feeding me today?”

In answer, she tossed a small bag of chips to me. ~Sweet~.

“Nacho cheese.” I approved. Getting myself a handful, I asked, “Turn in your English paper yet?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, so you care about my English paper ~today~, huh?”

Oh, damn, I’d forgotten I had snapped at her about that on Sarah’s birthday. “Reese. Come on,” I begged. “I’m sorry I said that to you at the party. I was in a mood.” Setting my hand over my heart, I swore, “I care about ~everything~ you do.” And that was the honest-to-God truth.

Reese groaned, probably over the cheesiness of my answer. “Okay, enough already. The bullshit around here is getting too deep to wade through.”

“What?” I yelped. “I’m serious.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So let me guess. Your landlady thinks you and I are riding the baby-making train together, doesn’t she?”

I sighed, not wanting to discuss Patricia, but when I tried to evade and then downplay the topic, Reese kept at it, guessing and asking what Patricia had said to me when she had sat next to me on the loveseat during the birthday party. I groaned in agony over the whole inquisition.

“Oh my God.” Reese’s eyes widened with worry. “How bad ~was~ it?”

“It wasn’t even ~true~,” I argued, “so… Just drop it. Please.”

Yeah, I should’ve known better than to even suggest that. “If it wasn’t true,” she started, “then why can’t you tell—”

“Fine.” Damn. I always gave into her way too easily. “She said you were an attention seeker. Okay? She said you were stealing the limelight away from Sarah on her own birthday, which wasn’t…”

I swear, Reese’s face drained of even more color. She pressed her hand to her chest and asked if she really had stolen all the attention from Sarah.

“No!” I told her unequivocally. “I ~told~ you, what she said wasn’t true.”

“But—”

“Listen to me.” I stood and leaned over the table toward her so she would look at nothing but my face and she could see I meant nothing but the truth. “Before you showed up on Sunday, my sister was absolutely miserable. The next morning, she said it was the best birthday she’d ever had. And that was because of you, got it? ~You~ made those other girls interact with her. And now, that tall one, Sorcha, she’s even coming back on Saturday afternoon to spend the day with Sarah.”

“Really?” Her face lighting with cheer, Reese bounced on her bench seat. “That’s great. ~Oh~! I liked Sorcha.”

I shook my head and gave her a slight grin. “You are the least selfish person I know.”

“Well…” She cringed guilty. “I can be a little selfish.”

“I don’t see it,” I insisted, shaking my head. “That day in the library, with Dr. Janison and Eva… Every woman treats me that way, Reese. I’m not a person to them. I’m just a good time or something vile to be avoided at all costs. And then you came along and you…you ~hugged~ me. You are the first person who sees me, ~Mason~, not sex for sale. And that kind of compassion is not the sign of a selfish person. At all.”

“I…” She seemed to have trouble swallowing. And blinking. “Well, thank you,” she rasped out, meaningfully. “But you ~are~ a person, and—”

I lifted my hand to stop her. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. And you are…you’re…” I paused to shake my head because I wasn’t sure if an amazing enough word had been invented to describe Reese Randall properly.

“I’m…?” she said, looking a little alarmed, as if she thought I might possibly have a single negative thing to say about her.

~As if~.

“You’re quirky,” I started, loving that most about her. “And yet conventional. Innocent but worldly. Reserved yet outgoing. Candid yet guarded. Trendy but also practical. And childlike while still managing to be mature. It’s like you’re the perfect contradiction.”

With all that said, she just stared at me, like I was some kind of hero, or…or worthy guy, or something. Which I wasn’t.

Feeling suddenly awkward, I thrust a book her way. “Anyway...here. I think I can officially say I’m addicted to ~Harry Potter~. Sarah and I couldn’t wait to borrow ~The Goblet of Fire~. We bought our own copy and started it yesterday.”

Reese’s gaze fell to the book, then back up to me. Suddenly, she cleared her throat. “Wow,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. She swiped at her cheeks as if to dispel tears and then took ~The Prisoner of Azkaban~ back. “You and Sarah are just cruising through the series. I’m impressed.”

“That going-back-in-time scene was really cool,” I tried, hoping to bring back her smile somehow. “I couldn’t put it down.”

And there, ~yes~, she smiled and hugged the book to her chest. “It was always one of my favorites too. Especially when they saved Buckbeak.”

“I ended up reading it twice,” I admitted. “Once when I read ahead, and then again when Sarah wanted me to read it with her. Which reminds me…”

I stood and retrieved the trinket I’d been carrying around all week to give to her.

Reese frowned in curiosity and straightened, trying to see what I was holding. “What do you have there?”

I just smiled. “Something for you. I had it made. This guy I know takes an advanced metal crafting class and put it together.”

She sat back, her eyes wide with shock. “You did what?”

I handed it over, feeling suddenly bashful. “I know it’s pretty crude, but I thought it might fit on your charm bracelet.”

She focused on the silver charm in my palm and gasped. It was a small lightning bolt with ~Harry Potter’s~ HP logo on it.

“Oh my God.” She accepted it slowly, worshipfully. “This is amazing, Mason.”

“I had one made for Sarah too,” I told her. “Yours was actually the prototype. So I think it might contain a few more mistakes.”

“What mistakes?” she demanded, hooking it to her charm bracelet. “It’s flawless.” Then she held up her arm to show it off. A swell of pride filled me. I liked seeing her wear something I’d given her. “Thank you.”

I opened my mouth to say… Hell, I don’t even know. I just knew this was a big moment and I didn’t want to screw it up. I needed to say something awesome and important.

Except I didn’t get the chance. I was interrupted by a shadow that fell over our table and a voice that said, “Hey.”

Reese and I looked up at the same time, and I was completely boggled to find Ethan Riker standing there, smiling.

Yes, I said he was ~smiling ~as if he ~hadn’t~ accosted me in the dark last night, pushed me three times, accused me of his mom’s near-death, and then threatened revenge against me.

The worst part was that he wasn’t even smiling at ~me~. His grin was all for Reese.

As she met his gaze, she immediately started to stutter. “Umm. Hi…Ethan. I…I’m not used to seeing you on a Friday.”

Holy shit. Was she ~blushing~?

Why the hell was she blushing?

At Riker?

And how the hell did they even ~know~ each other?

In return, he let out a small, perceptive laugh as if he knew the power of his appeal. “I know,” he said conversationally. “But I saw you over here and thought I’d say hi.” Then he finally glanced my way. “Hey, Mason.” Giving a friendly wave, he seemed nothing but congenial and courteous.

What…the…fuck?

“Riker,” I damn near growled, trying to figure out why he was standing there, smiling as if the night before had never happened? And why the hell was he talking to Reese? Like he ~knew~ her?

“Oh!” Reese blurted out her surprise. “You two know already each other? Great.” Only she didn’t sound as if she thought it was great. She sounded more like she’d just gotten caught doing something wrong. “That saves me from making introductions because obviously… I forgot to make introductions.”

A nervous laugh bubbled from her, and Riker smiled as if amused. I just gaped at her, wondering, ~seriously, what the fuck was happening?~

She caught my stony stare and instantly sobered.

Then Riker went and dropped the big bomb when he told Reese he couldn’t wait until tomorrow night, right before he asked her where she wanted to go.

I frowned in confusion, glancing back and forth between them, because it sounded a hell of a lot like they were making plans for a date…together.

With me sitting right there between them.

When Reese glanced guiltily my way before answering that she had no idea where she wanted to go, since she wasn’t familiar with the area, my suspicions were confirmed.

She was going out with this dipshit. On a fucking date.

Not sure how to process that, I just watched them as they finished making arrangements. Riker told her he’d see her tomorrow, and then he leaned down to stamp a kiss to her cheek.

She pulled back immediately, obviously surprised by the move, because she murmured, “Whoa,” which told me he’d never done that to her before. The only relish I found from the last thirty seconds was when Riker blushed, embarrassed about getting such a rejection. Then he glanced my way and hurried off.

That’s when his words from the night before echoed through my head.

~You’ll pay for this. I’ll hit you where it hurts the most~.

I focused on Reese’s flushed face and realized he really had hit me where it would hurt the most. He’d done what I ~couldn’t~ do; he’d asked Reese for a date.

And she’d fucking said yes.

Son of a bitch. Was Riker feigning interest in Reese in an attempt to get at me?

I’d kill him.