"Nothing."
"Mason," I sighed. His answer had been short, too short. "I'm sorry that I freaked out before—"
He swung around. This time he didn't hold back his anger and I was startled from the fierceness of it. "You're sorry? What the hell happened? I never have any idea when you're going to flip out or sprint off for one of those long-ass runs you do. They're not healthy, Sam. I've been quiet for a long time, but you need to start telling me what going on with you."
"Mason," I started.
"I mean it." His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes glittered with emotion. He'd had enough.
I saw it then and knew that my hiding was done. I slumped down on the bed and hung my head. This was going to be painful.
I took a deep breath. I was going to need it. "I've been having flashbacks to that night with my mom."
"Your mom? What night?"
"The night she lost the baby—"
His shoulders loosened a fraction, but he remained by the window. "You said she killed her baby."
I nodded. A storm of emotions swirled inside of me, but I couldn't deal with them, not now. "Yeah, I know. She did, but I didn't know then and I keep remembering it in bits and pieces."
"Oh."
I needed to tell him more. I needed to explain it all to him. So I rasped out, "I saw Mark Decraw in the diner and it sent me into a tailspin. I'm sorry. I really am, just the sight of him reminded me of his mom, who might be married to my dad now and…" I drew in a shuddering breath. The pain ripped through me, stabbing me in the gut. "I have no idea if he married her or not. He hasn't reached out to me at all."
Mason sat beside me on the bed and picked up one of my hands. He held it in his lap. "David's not married to that woman. The divorce isn't even finalized with your mom."
"Oh."
I blinked in surprise. I should've known that.
"Logan told me about that before, but I didn't realize you bought into it. Decraw has no idea about your parent's divorce. He's a dumbass. Don't listen to anything he says."
"Oh."
"Was that it?" He frowned at me.
I couldn't get over how stupid I'd been.
"Sam."
"What?"
He narrowed his eyes and studied me again. One of his fingers tipped my chin up so I was looking him straight into the eyes. I couldn't look away. While his eyes held mine captive, he asked further, "What else happened before? Your dad being a neglectful ass**le didn't push you over the edge. You had a flashback again?"
I nodded. My throat was full as I remembered it all again. I couldn't explain how the reminder of David took me back to the night he had left me again—no, when he left me the first time. I shook my head as tears leaked out. I didn't want to tell him that I called for an ambulance, all on my own, or how I sat beside my mother. I sat in her blood.
He should've been there.
That thought raced through me, along with a bolt of anger. My jaw hardened. He should've been there. I shouldn't have had to do that on my own. I'd only been eleven. A goddamn eleven-year-old and I had to call 911 for my mother.
"What are you thinking right now?"
The words slipped from me, "It was the first time he left, Mason." My chest lifted. A dull ache started in my gut. "She tried to kill the baby on her own and I found her. I went and looked for him, but he wasn't there. I think," I drew in a deep breath. "I think they had a fight or something. His suitcase was on the floor and his clothes were everywhere. I don't know what happened, but I remembered hearing them before. They'd been fighting. He was going to leave her…" I couldn't finish. I didn't want to remember anymore.
"You okay?"
I couldn't tell him anymore. It was too painful. But then I didn't have to. Mason slid an arm underneath my legs and he lifted me again. He folded me onto his lap, and I curled into him. His hand smoothed up and down my back. It was a comforting motion, one that I needed so much, but after we sat in silence for awhile, I needed to pull away. I had to work soon and he couldn't keep holding my hand every time I felt like I was going to break.
My eyes shot to his, bleak and exhausted. He mirrored what I was feeling. "What was going on downstairs? That guy thought you were here with Heather?'
He jerked his head in a nod. His body stiffened underneath me.
"Mason."
With gentle hands, he deposited me back onto the bed but didn't move away. I was relieved. Instead, he held my hand and rested his arms on his legs. "Heather brought the food over. She'd been here two seconds before he showed up. He went berserk when he saw her and me together. We weren't even on the same couch or anything. She was in the kitchen and I was in the living room, but he saw me in her home and connected the wrong dots together."
"She told me that he goes to Roussou. It's because of that, isn't it? I know you guys hate that school."
"There's more to it than that, but yeah, he's from Roussou. He doesn't run with the same crew as the Broudou brothers, but he knows my history with them. I'm sure that's part of it."
"The Broudou brothers?"
Mason nodded. His shoulders had filled again with tension. "Yeah, there are three of them. Two are seniors this year, twins, and they have a third little brother in your grade. But all of them hate me."