The Price of Mason (Forbidden Men 10)

Across the table, Mom was going on about how we had to be nice to her because she practically owned us, and we owed a lot to her for letting us stay here a couple years back when we’d been so far behind on our rent.

I just stared at her stonily before finally breaking in with, “Well, she doesn’t own me, and I owe her nothing. I don’t want her here and I guarantee you that Sarah would be perfectly happy, too, if she didn’t show up, so don’t expect me to be hospitable if she actually comes.”

“Mason,” Mom gasped in a horrified, I-can’t-believe-my-kid-is-misbehaving-in-public kind of voice. “That is not the way to—”

“You don’t know her like I do, Mom,” I cut in harshly. “So just trust me when I say we don’t owe her any kindness.”

Whatever she had been planning to tell me froze on her tongue. The look she sent me seemed almost guilty for a second before she cleared her throat and glanced away. That’s when I realized she knew about me and Patricia. A regretful ache tore through me, making me wish I could go back in time and undo so many things I’d done so my own mother wouldn’t have to look away from me in shame. But there was no going back now; my bed was made. I had to figure out a way to get comfortable in it, snuggling with all my demons and regrets.

Lifting her hands, Mom backed away from the table and said, “Okay, fine. Maybe I misspoke, but I can’t retract the invitation now. We’ll just have to figure out how to get through this the best we can.” And she walked out of the room, abandoning me there, just as it felt she’d done for the past two years.

Confession #22: My biggest nightmare was for Reese to meet Patricia.

I think I grew an ulcer in the hours that followed.

I had ignored Patricia’s threat, calling her bluff, and now she was going to be in the same house as Reese. If she really had anything to hurt my girl with, today would be a prime opportunity for her to unleash it. I wanted to warn Reese but I wasn’t sure how. And I didn’t have much time to do it, anyway.

As soon as the birthday girl realized I was home, I became her personal source of entertainment. First, she wanted to watch Hawaii Five-O with me, then read a chapter of the current Harry Potter book we were on, and I couldn’t tell her no; it was her birthday.

After that, it was time to set out last-minute preparations for the party.

Half an hour before go-time, Sarah sat in her chair by the door, eagerly awaiting her first guest. When twenty-five minutes passed with no one ringing the doorbell, her hopeful expression slipped with each click of the minute hand of the clock on the wall, and my helpless frustration morphed more fervently into self-righteous anger.

And then, finally, the first guest arrived at four minutes before two. The next two after that showed up together another minute later, and that was it. Three classmates were all that showed. And they looked like reluctant shows because not a single one of them even bothered to speak to Sarah as their mothers ushered them forcefully through the doorway. One even asked her mom aloud how long they had to wait before they could go.

The good news was that Patricia didn’t show, but then… She was never on time for anything so she probably still had her grand entrance coming.

The bad news was that

Reese was absent too. That’s what worried me most. The last thing I thought she’d ever do was let Sarah down on her big day. But when ten minutes after two passed and she still wasn’t here, I started to grow downright pissed at the entire world. Sure, I hadn’t wanted her to meet my landlady but I didn’t want Sarah to suffer either. And not having her favorite babysitter here on her special day would sting…big-time.

Where the hell was she?

Was she okay?

Fuck, was she okay? Had Patricia finally struck? Or did her absence revolve around me? She had seemed sincere when she told me that we were still friends before I’d left her apartment this morning, but what if that had just been a ruse to get me out of there without a fight?

Oh, God, what if I’d done something last night that I couldn’t remember that had actually hurt her?

I was tugging my phone from my pocket to call her when the front door swept open, and there she was. My relief was so visceral that I swear I could suddenly breathe easier.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she gushed, hurrying inside. “I lost track of time while I was writing a paper for school. I know”—she gave a dramatic bow—“I’m a total geek that way.”

Noticing Sarah’s three classmates who’d been forced to come, she hurried to them, introducing herself. “Hi, I’m Reese. I’m Sarah’s evening sitter.”

And just like that, my relief clicked back into anger. All that worry and fear I’d felt for her, and she’d merely lost track of time? My irritation mounted, and this time it lashed out at her. I knew it was misplaced even as I scowled, watching her make friends with the little brats ignoring my sister, but I couldn’t help it. I just felt helpless and pissed and I needed to direct it somewhere.

She must’ve realized it, though, because as soon as she finally greeted Sarah, she thought up a smooth way to escort me from the room, announcing that we should help my mom set up food in the kitchen before she hooked her arm through mine and physically dragged me up off the loveseat I’d been sitting on.

As soon as we were alone in the hallway, she hissed, “What the hell did I miss?”

“Brilliant idea to invite the classmates,” I growled at her since she’d been the one to suggest it. “They’ve been ignoring her the whole time and won’t even stand on the same side of the room as her.”

Reese merely rolled her eyes. “Well, what did you expect, with you hovering over her like a pissed-off guard dog? I swear, you were foaming at the mouth as you stared at those poor little girls. I’m surprised they haven’t run screaming from the house yet.”

“Poor little girls, my ass,” I snapped. “We invited every brat in her class, and only three of them showed up, the three who openly confessed they were only here because their parents forced them to come. Sarah is crushed.”

Reese opened her mouth to respond, but we’d just reached the kitchen where my mom was rushing around like a frantic, blind chicken. And once again, Reese worked her smooth-magic and got rid of Mom, shooing her from the room with the promise that she and I would finish getting everything ready.