Mr. Paisley straightened in his chair. “Ms. Foley may have only been convicted once, but when a judge has a choice between a couple with a sterling record and a woman who’s been to juvenile detention and lived in a homeless shelter for most of her life, who do you think he’s going to choose?”
My stomach hollowed at the mention of my home. Whose fault was it that a homeless shelter had been my only option? And what did they know about the beautiful life I’d built at Hope House? Nothing. They only had their judgement and anger.
Things only devolved from there. The ping-pong match between Keisha and Mr. Paisley only succeeded in giving me a headache. No agreement was reached, and my parents and their lawyer left in a huff. Keisha assured us that everything was good. We had a much clearer picture of what we were up against, and she was ready to fight.
I could barely take her words in, my head hurt so badly. The pulse of my heart seemed to have taken root there, thrumming an angry beat. Mason kept a hand on my lower back as he led me out of the building and helped me into his SUV. “You okay?”
“My head’s killing me.”
“Do you want some Tylenol? I think I have some in the first-aid kit in the glove box.”
Of course, he did. Mason was prepared for everything. He was basically a grown-up version of a Boy Scout.
“I don’t think my stomach would handle it too well.” It was already churning. I needed a soda and some food before anything.
“All right. Why don’t I just get you home?”
I nodded, closing my eyes as he shut the door. I kept them closed as he drove. But the words from Derek’s statement taunted me. The ugly images they invoked. The way my parents and their lawyer had sliced me to bits without a second thought.
But it was Derek that hurt the most. The pictures that filled my brain now were worse. Us cuddled on the couch in his new apartment, making plans for what our future would hold. Tossing names back and forth for what we’d call our children someday. The tender way he’d frame my face in his hands and tell me that he’d love me forever. That he’d always protect me.
“Pull over!” I jerked up in my seat.
Mason cursed but brought his Range Rover to a stop at the side of the road. My seat belt was already off, and I leapt out of the car. My knees buckled as I landed in the dirt. And then I was heaving. Emptying whatever meager contents remained in my stomach.
Mason was by my side in a matter of seconds, pulling my hair away from my face and rubbing my back. He didn’t stop as I continued heaving until there was nothing left to empty, but my stomach continued to revolt. I didn’t know how long it took for me to will my body under control, but I was gasping for breath when I did.
“Nice and easy,” Mason said as he kept rubbing my back. “You want some water?”
“Yes,” I croaked.
He released his hold on my hair and stepped away. I felt the loss instantly. And I wanted his touch back so badly it terrified me. I leaned back on my heels, trying my best to get my breathing back to normal.
Mason reappeared, handing me a bottle of water and some napkins. “I’ve got a travel mouthwash, too. When you’re ready.”
“Boy Scout,” I muttered and then washed out my mouth. Wetting one of the napkins, I patted down my face, as well.
He handed me the mouthwash. “Boy Scout?”
“You’re always prepared.” The minty flavor was everything I needed, and I rinsed out my mouth twice.
Mason helped me to my feet, his hands remaining on my elbows to make sure I was steady. “Are you okay?”
Something about the earnestness in his gaze broke me. The tears came fast and hard. “No. I’m not okay.”
17
Mason
The tears might as well have beendaggers to the heart. I’d never seen Anna cry. Not once. I’d seen her fight back tears. But not even when she’d gotten the call about her sister had Anna let those tears fall.
But today had been too much. Everyone had a breaking point. And this was Anna’s. I pulled her into my arms. She might break for a moment, but I refused to let her fall. “We’re going to get through this.”
“I don’t know if we are.” Her body shook against mine as her tears came harder. “It—it’s too much. I can’t—”
“You can, and you will. These assholes don’t get to win.”
Anna couldn’t seem to get out another word. And she didn’t need to. All she needed was to let some of this out. All of the pain and grief she’d been bottling up for way too long.
