“Dickerson probably wants to kill me and leave my body in the woods for the wolves and bears.”
“That’s not funny,” he says.
It’s really not. But it’s probably true.
“I don’t care where I go on my honeymoon.”
“OK,” he says, as we make the forty-minute drive back to the house. “Then where would you go? If you could choose instead of them.”
“Fiji,” I say. “Hey, I’m gonna tell you something serious, OK?”
“OK.”
“If I don’t come back from Alaska, that’s where I’ll be. Fiji. Because if Dickerson thinks he can take me in a fight, he’s out of his fucking mind.”
“Oh, shit, Lyssa.” Mason laughs. “What am I gonna do with you?”
I have an answer for that, but it’s not one he wants to hear. So I keep it quiet.
“So this whole ‘fuck it’ thing. By that you mean…”
“I give,” he says.
“You give?”
“Yeah, like give in, you know? You wore me down.”
“So I’m forcing you?”
“No,” he says. “You’re not. You’re just…”
“Just what? A wild thing?”
“I guess the name fits.”
“So you like me though, right?”
“Of course. You’re pretty easy to like, actually.”
“Hmmm. Well, that’s news to me. But I’ll take it.”
“How about we just start with being friends?”
“Friends?” I say, making a face. “With benefits, you mean?”
“No, not really.”
“I’m confused. You like me, you’re going to let me have my way, you want to be my friend, but you want me to marry someone I hate when this whole thing is over.”
“Look, I didn’t say it made sense, OK? None of this makes sense. I’m just trying to make you happy.”
“You mean make you happy?”
“Me too.”
“Mostly you.”
“Lyssa—”
“No, it’s fine,” I say. “I get it. You’re the new me.”
“What?”
“You know, thinking of yourself.”
“Jesus. I don’t know what to think about you, OK? I just know what I told you. I like you.”
I turn in my seat to face him just as he turns the car into the driveway. It’s a really long driveway so I have one more shot at this before we switch gears and go back inside my prison. “Well, if you like me, then… let’s just go somewhere.”
“Where would we go?”
“Let’s go see your mom. Fuck this wedding.”
“You don’t need me to get you out of this wedding.” He stops the car in front of the house, puts in in gear, and shuts it off. “You can get yourself out of this wedding. Just tell your stepfather no.”
“Just tell him no.” I laugh.
“Yeah, you’re a fucking grown-ass woman. You can make your own choices. Why do you let everyone make them for you?”
“I guess…” I think about this for a moment, try to put it into words that won’t make him think I’m just some random psycho, and decide on, “Because I feel trapped.”
“Well, you’re not. Sure, it can feel that way sometimes, but you’re not. If you want to leave then here,” he says, handing me the key fob. “Take it. Take the car and go. I’m not holding you prisoner.”
“Just take it and go?”
“I don’t understand why this is so hard for you. Is it because your stepfather has been so controlling your whole life you actually don’t realize he’s not in control?”
I think about that for a second, trying to make all the pieces of my life fit together in some new way that makes sense.
“Or is it because you’re afraid?”
“What would I be afraid of?” I ask softly. Because I know what I’m afraid of. But I’d like to know what he thinks I’m afraid of.
“I don’t know, Lyssa.” He takes my hand, opens my palm, drops the key fob into it, closes it back up, and then smiles at me. “Make a choice. Right now.”
And then he gets out of the car, grabs the dress, and the bags from the trunk, and goes inside.
I sit there like that, just staring at the seat where he was, and think.
Should I get in that seat and drive away? Go back to my apartment, pack my things and just leave?
But then I look at the house and wonder what I’d be missing out on if I left and never saw Mason again.
Am I falling in love with this guy?
That’s impossible.
But am I?
I get out of the car and go inside the house.
Because I don’t know. I really don’t know.
Everything is confusing. I don’t understand my feelings. Or what I was doing up in my room all week. Or even why I was doing it.
I feel like I’m nobody. I’m a thing. Just a wild thing and nothing more.
But then Mason Macintyre comes along and when he’s close to me… when he’s on my side I feel like I can handle this. I can win.
If he’s with me, maybe I can win?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – MASON
Lyssa doesn’t take her chances and drive off in the Mercedes. She comes inside, unpacks all her bags, oohing and ahhhing at all her purchases, and smiles the whole time as she puts them away in her room as I watch.