Mason comes over to the waiting area and passes right by me. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch him sit down in the furthest seat from me.
I’m not going to lie. It stings. I have no idea what I did to make him hate me so much.
Shrugging the negativity away, I glance at Layla and Falcon. They’re still talking, so I look down at my bandaged hand.
When Lake is done getting the medication, he comes toward me. “Let’s get going.” He glances over at Falcon and calls out, “All set. Let’s go.”
I get up and smile gratefully at Lake when he places an arm around my waist. Leaning on him, I hop toward the exit with his help.
As we walk outside toward the van, I notice Lake holding the medicine out to Mason. But instead of taking it, Mason shakes his head, grumbling, “I’m not taking that shit. I’ll be fine.”
He then walks ahead of us and staring at the wide expanse of his back, I wonder what the medication is for.
I hope he’s okay.Chapter 3MasonFucking PTSD my ass.
I’m just shaken up by the incident.
Sitting in the back of the van, I stare blankly out of the window. I don’t have an appetite, but I know Lake must be starving, and that’s the only reason I’m not saying anything when Falcon drives to a restaurant.
“I think I can eat an entire cow,” Kingsley says happily as if she didn’t get hit by a damn avalanche just a couple of hours ago.
I wish I were back at Trinity.
“Damn, you and me both,” Lake chuckles. “Ahh… I can already see the steak.” He pauses then begins to add a whole list, “And pizza. And tacos. And chicken wings.”
I just want to lie down on my own bed and not get up again.
“So, basically the whole menu,” Layla teases him.
I keep smelling the fumes from the car.
“You know me well,” Lake chuckles.
I close my eyes, and when the image of Jen slumped over the branch flashes through my mind, suffocating sorrow wells up inside my chest.
“I just want anything warm. It feels like I’m a block of ice,” Layla complains.
My eyes catch Falcon’s in the rearview mirror, and I quickly lower my head. I turn my face away so he can’t see as a tear escapes. Casually, bringing my hand up, I rest my chin on my thumb and wipe the tear away with my knuckles.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
I try to focus on every breath I take, but images keep flashing through my mind.
“We’re here. Finally, food!” Lake coos.
Jennifer cheering me on while I’m playing basketball with Falcon and Lake.
“Lake, will you be my hero and give me a piggyback ride?” Kingsley begs.
Jennifer tousling my hair.
Jennifer smiling.
“Mason?” Falcon sits down next to me, and it’s a struggle to lift my eyes. “The others have gone to the restaurant.” He places his arm behind me and leans forward. When his eyes catch mine, he brings his other arm around me and hugs me to him. “I’m here.”
I try to nod, but the emotions leave me feeling dazed and sluggish.
“I’m here, buddy.” I’m grateful to him for not asking how I feel.
I wouldn’t know how to answer that.
Fucked? Lost? Broken beyond repair?
Falcon sits with me for a while, and it gives me time to push some of the emotions down.
“I suppose we have to head inside,” I mutter.
“No, we can sit here until they’re done. I don’t mind.”
This is why I consider him my brother. He’s always been there, a silent force keeping me from giving up.
“Let’s go eat,” I say, willing my voice to sound stronger.
“You sure?” Falcon asks, shifting forward when I gesture for him to move.
“I’m sure.” I force a smile to my lips.
I follow Falcon out of the van and into the restaurant. My eyes land on Lake, who freezes with a slice of pizza inches from his mouth, and the sight brings a real smile to my face.
Falcon goes to sit next to Layla.
The smile quickly drops from my face, and I glare at Lake as I take the seat between him and Kingsley.
“Fucker,” I mumble under my breath.
“I needed more space for all the food,” Lake explains.
I shake my head, letting out a burst of silent laughter.
“Grab a slice,” Lake says right before he stuffs half the damn pizza into his mouth.
A waiter comes to bring more food to the table, and I order a drink, needing something strong to help take the edge off.
As the waiter leaves with my order, Lake grumbles, “You better eat something, or I’m going to force-feed you.”
“Shoot,” Kingsley mumbles next to me, drawing my attention.
Glancing at her, I watch her brow furrow as she stares longingly at the steak on her plate, gripping a fork in her left hand.
“Clearly, I didn’t think this through,” she whispers.