The parade of days, one after the other, marched by. Shonda was careful to keep the relationship they’d shared fun and light, careful to hide how deep her emotions ran. “Casual” by Mason’s definition. She never spoke word one of her love for him. If she did, he’d disappear faster than she could blink, and she’d never see him again. While she understood this couldn’t go on indefinitely, that long-term she wanted marriage and family, for now she was content to enjoy whatever stolen time with him she could eke out.
She had yet to see his place, and it bothered her to a small degree. However, she understood his unspoken reasoning. Had she thought about it in advance, she’d have never allowed him to set foot in her apartment. Everywhere she looked, every nook and cranny of her space allowed her to recall a moment of teasing or touching. Yes, she was forming memories here. Eventually they would come back to bite her in the ass.
Their arguments grew less frequent as they became more in sync. He’d even graduated to providing his phone number. Although, she waited for him to contact her in most cases, knowing that any advances on her part wouldn’t be welcome.
On the nights when he didn’t text, call, or come by, she wanted to rage. Deep down, she recognized if she took what they had to a needy level, he’d be gone. In her mind, a head’s up would be consideration. In his, pointing it out would be akin to forcing a commitment. That was something Mason would never do. If her heart ached on the nights she spent alone, she refused to acknowledge the hurt. Instead, she made plans with friends or visited Erica in the prison her stalker had created for her and Zack.
Of her own happy bomber, she heard nothing more. No bombs in her new car—which she was careful to park in a garage she rented at her complex—no break-ins, no more parents’ homes being barbecued. She realized it was probably too much to hope for that that psycho moved on. Mason did too, if his continued precautions were any clue as to what he was thinking. When he wasn’t around, he set it up so the local law enforcement scheduled routine patrols for her place as well as for her mother’s and father’s. Or like now, when food became a necessity, he escorted her to the grocery store, careful to use his car with its hyper-sensitive motion alarm that would go off if anyone got too close. He was also cautious in his route to the store, taking side roads and backtracking.
“It’s like we’re in a spy movie,” she laughed.
“Yeah, well, better safe than sorry.”
Tonight, something in his mood said he was upset. She couldn’t put her finger on what it might be. The tentative questions about his work and home life were met with a cold stare.
When he would have exited the car, she grasped his hand to stop him. “Mason, is something wrong? Are you mad at me for some reason?”
“No.” He moved to open the driver’s side door, and again, she stopped him.
“Is it so difficult to have a real conversation with me? Something more meaningful than what we plan to eat for dinner or what movie we want to watch?”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Here we go.” He sat back with a huff and threw his hands in the air. “This is the point where you tell me you want me to share my feelings, right? To commit to calling you my girlfriend? It’s not happening, Shonda. Give it rest.”
He might as well have hauled off and punched her in the diaphragm, the pain was so great. To not only misinterpret her actions, but to accuse her of trying to force a relationship on him that they both knew he damn well didn’t desire made her want to vomit. There she sat, unable to move or speak, staring at his gloved hands gripped tight around the steering wheel, wishing in a twisted way that he would’ve struck her. At least then she could claim abuse and find a reason to run, not walk, away as fast as her legs could carry her. For that matter, what was stopping her now?
Shonda took her power back. “I’m done.” She didn’t know where the words came from, somewhere deep and dark, but they lightened her soul. Without giving him a chance to respond, she flung open her door and strode in the opposite direction of the store.
“Shonda, get back here,” Mason’s fury-laced voice called to her across the parking lot.
She continued on her journey toward home. Each step she took made her feel lighter, cementing her decision to be done with self-torment. Done with longing for things she couldn’t have. Done with the best sex of her existence. The last thought almost made her pause her flight.
“I’m not fooling around,” he called. “Get back here. It’s not safe for you to walk home in the dark.”
It wasn’t safe for her to spend another second in his company either. If she did, she’d cave. She’d give in to his non-commitment demands.
She thought she heard his muttered “goddammit” across the still evening air. Things tended to echo off the snow. Now that she thought about it, she wished she had a warmer jacket. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t survive the half-hour walk home, she’d just be a popsicle by the time she got there.
A car door slammed behind her. Mason. That would be him either coming after her, or leaving her to her own devices and going home. When she didn’t hear him immediately jog up behind her, all her romantic fantasies fled.
Moisture burned her eyes and nasal passages. No matter how many times she told herself she wouldn’t cry, her body had a mind of its own. Hot tears streamed silently down her chilled cheeks. She angrily swiped them away. The last thing she needed was to be a sniveling, snotty mess in case she ran into someone she knew. Although who she was going to run into in the dark at eight-thirty at night was anyone’s guess.
The irony being that someone literally crashed into her right then. She was knocked to the pavement as her assailant snatched her purse. Her right arm and shoulder hurt like a sonofabitch as she pushed to her feet and yelled. Her attempt to give chase was thwarted by the icy sidewalk. Down she went again.
Tires squealed, and Shonda wondered if someone was coming to finish her off. Mason’s Lexus skidded to a halt on the road beside her. His frantic, “Are you all right?” was met with an affirmative nod and a shooing of her hand.
“Go get that rat bastard and run him over, will ya?”
He flashed her a roguish grin, popped back into his car to give chase. After he’d gone, she wondered why the hell she’d encouraged him to leave her alone. A single step told her that her hip was going to feel the impact with the ground on the morrow. She released a groan and started to limp in the direction of the store. Cold, wet, and now exhausted on every level, she decided it was worth the wait for a taxi.
Ten more steps reminded her she didn’t have a wallet to cover the cost of the ride. Five more brought tears to her eyes again. Six more had her pissed off and ready to murder whomever was making her life a living hell. She was only four feet from the store entrance when Mason pulled up beside her, expression grim. A quick shake of his head let her know the perp had escaped. How he’d escaped on foot when Mason was hot on his heels, she’d never know.
“He must have had a car waiting,” Mason said, interpreting her frown. “I’ve called the police. They should be here shortly. Come get warm.”
The thought of those heated leather seats tempted her. Oh, how they tempted her. But in the end, she thanked him and said she’d wait in the store.
“Don’t be ridiculous, love. Get in the car.”
“Ridiculous? Ridiculous?” Yeah, she sounded mentally unstable with her voice ratcheting up so high, but she couldn’t give two shits right about then. “You know what’s ridiculous? You treating women like they have cooties if you spend more than twenty-four consecutive hours together. Another ridiculous thing might be your gamophobia. That’s ridiculous.”
“What the hell is gamophobia?” he asked, sounding outraged, as if she’d labeled him a serial killer.
“Look it up, asshole,” she spat before sailing through the automatic doors.
Once inside, she convinced the store manager to allow her to use the phone.
“Shonda Grant, right?” the guy asked.
For the first time she really looked at him. Sandy brown hair, azure eyes, and a ready smile. He looked familiar, and it took no time to recognize him. “Tommy McAdams? Ohmygod! It’s been forever! How are you?” She rushed forward and hugged him. Tommy had been her first unrequited love. Of course, she’d only been eight at the time, so it wasn’t bound to work out anyway. “Wow, look at you! All grown up and a heartbreaker.”
His joyous laugh drew forth a laugh of her own. “You look…” He trailed off, there was no way he could look at her tear stained face, dirty ripped jeans, and wild hair and say anything nice.
“Like a hot mess?” she grinned and tried to appear less pathetic.
“I was going to say beautiful, but I didn’t think you’d believe it, seeing as how you’re a little worse for wear at the moment.”
His sincere words went a long way in soothing her emotional hurts.
“Thank you.”
“So what happened?”
“Would you believe I got mugged?”
“In Stonebrooke?” Disbelief coated his words, and she couldn’t blame him for being shocked. Nothing happened in their small town.
“I know, right?”
“God, are you okay? Do I need to call the police? What can I do to help?”
“I’ve got it covered, cuz. They’re on their way.” Mason’s deep voice from directly behind her caused her to squeak in surprise.
“Mason! Hey, man! Were you outside when it happened?” Tommy asked.
“You could say that.” His dry tone was accompanied by an awkward silence.
Shonda waited for the count of ten and finally spoke up. “The phone, Tommy?”
“Oh, yeah, come on back.”
“No need,” Mason forestalled him. To Shonda he said, “I brought you here, I’ll damn well take you home.”
“I’ll call Eva, but thanks.” She had to wonder why her foolish pride wouldn’t give in and accept his offer. Maybe it was because if she did, she’d find herself allowing things to go back to the way they were. Back to what no longer suited her needs.
“You’re being a stubborn fool,” he ground out and stepped up to invade her space.
With each step he stalked her, she retreated until she backed into Tommy. When Tommy’s arm encircled her to keep her upright, Mason focused his icy gaze on the offending appendage, then cast the owner a withering glare.
Shonda felt, more than heard, Tommy’s rumbling laugh. “That’s not going to work with me, cuz. The McAdams clan is made of sterner stuff.”
“How about if I threaten to break it?” Mason growled.
“Ah, it’s like that, is it?”
Tommy couldn’t have said more perfect words to have Mason backing off. The hostility fled and left indifference in its place. “Not at all. Knock yourself out.” He turned on his heel and called over his shoulder, “I’ll be outside, giving my statement to the police. Call me if you want to have a beer sometime, Tommy.”
Ice had settled around Shonda’s heart. It allowed her to remain unaffected and casual when she faced her new champion.
“Let me know if you need a ride,” he smiled gently, kindness personified.
“I’d take you up on it, but Eva has the spare set of keys to my place. Thanks, though.”
“So, you and Mason, huh? That’s hard to believe.”
Her brows clashed together. “Why’s that?”
“You’ve always been a nice girl. It’s not his thing.”
She gave a sick smile and reached for the phone receiver on the wall.