Page 18 of No Control
“Let me have it.” He extends his hand, his face feigning concern suddenly. “You look unstable, Lydia. Maybe we should look into getting you some therapy. You shouldn’t have these kinds of fearful reactions to someone who loves you.”
Ah, there he goes. It used to get to me and mess up my head, but it doesn’t now. He can’t gaslight me anymore.
“Leave now, please.” As the words leave my lips, my phone begins to ring in my pocket.
“Who is that?” Mason demands, gesturing to my cardigan pocket. “I don’t—”
“Look.”
Keeping my eye on him, I pull it out, my heart skipping as I see Henry’s name on the screen. Why is he calling me at this time in the morning? Did I turn on the read receipts on accident?
“Who is it?” Mason nearly shouts.
“Spam,” I answer him, keeping my voice flat.
“Right,” he scoffs. “I bet.”
I’ve backed up enough now that I have a clear view of the back door. My heart pounds in my head, anxiety and fear racking my body. I should have the upper hand with the dog and gun, but Mason seems on the verge of losing it.
But I could probably make it to the door. My phone rings again.
Mason’s face grows red. “Who is calling you?!”
I look up from the screen just as Mason lunges at me. He almost is able to secure my arm, but Duke pounces at the same time. His teeth don’t connect fully but do tear Mason’s jacket sleeve. I raise the gun, firing off one shot into the ground near his feet.
And then I run like hell.
“You crazy bitch!” Mason screams from somewhere behind me. “You just tried to shoot me!”
But I don’t look behind me, not even as Duke joins me. I fly up the back porch steps, and through the back patio door, slamming it shut. I flip the lock and then grab the bar, securing it. I can barely breathe as I begin to pace my living room, terrified.
“I’m calling the fucking cops!” Mason shouts from somewhere outside. “You’re a psycho bitch!”
A few tense minutes pass. I can’t see him, but I know he’s still out there—I’d hear his truck if he left. But then again, I didn’t hear him pull up. My hands tremble as I pull my phone from my pocket, seeing the two missed calls from Henry.
What could he possibly want right now?
I ignore them, trying to decide what the hell I’m supposed to do. I shouldn’t have fired the gun. I could’ve hit him. I mean, I’m a good shot, but still. He could get me for attempted murder or something.
I don’t wanna go to jail.
Tears well up in my eyes as my entire body begins to shake. I run to the front windows, peering out into the yard. Mason’s climbing into his truck. He’s leaving.
I’m so screwed.
But it’s my word against his, right? I mean, would they be able to tell I even shot at the ground? And he was trespassing, so that counts for something.
My phone pings with a message from him.
You’ll pay for this.
I don’t reply. Instead, I rub my arms violently. His text is a threat, so that has to count for something, too, if the police come knocking.
Or maybe I should call them to get ahead of this.
A sob breaks loose in my chest as Mason drives away, slinging gravel and spinning his tires. I go back to the living room and climb onto the couch, curling my knees to my chest. Duke joins me as I drop my head, letting my cries rock me.
And I stay like that for a while. Until my stupid phone pings again.
