Wanting to reach for Mason’s hand, she settled for holding his gaze. He was looking at her again. Tears sprang to her eyes. “He was a master manipulator who preyed on, or fed off, what was good and pure in people. Their open hearts. Their trust. Their compassion. And he was so successful because he truly cared about the people he manipulated. He truly needed our love. The only way we could have guarded against that would have been not to care. Not to love. Not to trust. And I’m not just talking about him, but everyone. Because we couldn’t have known that he had a rotten spot at his core. He had the uncanny ability to make the people around him blind to that. We don’t want to be deaf to music like Mozart’s,” she finished, giving him the decision she’d made for her own life.
Wondering if it would work for him, too.
“I saw the rotten core,” he told her. “And I did nothing.” His voice was soft in the night. It sounded dry, as if he’d been sitting there for hours.
“You did everything, Mason. You saw the bad, but you also saw the good. And hoped the good would win out. Everything he asked and needed from you, you gave him, along with your hope. You kept him sane enough to live over thirty years of life, doing some really great things, while he wrestled with the demon side of himself. Think about it. He never killed anyone. Never hit anyone. If not for Miriam’s frail bones, we might not have known, even now, about the double life he’d led.”
“It was getting to be too much for him,” Mason said. “When you left, and then with Gram growing older…his family on the law-abiding path was slipping away from him…”
She hadn’t thought of it that way, but it made sense.
“I could’ve been the constant that kept him from—”
“From what?” she interrupted. “You were out of his life by his dictate,” she reminded him. “And these past few months, you’ve been doing your best to be there for him. To protect him. Even getting the FBI to agree to bring him in with dignity.”
Not that it had happened. He’d been found dead first.
“He didn’t give you the chance to really help him, Mason. He never gave you the chance. Not in the past three months. Not in a lifetime of being a big brother,” she added, fighting for the future. Hers. Mason’s. Brianna’s.
Fighting for her family.
“I’m scared to death that he’s still in control, Mason. That we’re going to let him choose our end, too.”
He straightened at that, his gaze intent. Still, he said nothing.
“Five years ago, he sent you to me,” Harper said, the words coming of their own accord from depths she’d been hiding for far too long. “Right here…he sent you here. Tonight, he sent me to you. Maybe he didn’t mean to. I’m fairly sure he didn’t. But I’m here because of him. Because I know that we can be in control if we choose to be.”
His lips tightened, but he still kept his hands to himself. Harper figured she could be making a huge mistake, thought about that for a second and knew she didn’t care.
If he didn’t want her, didn’t feel the same way she did, then they’d share an embarrassing moment and move on. Move forward in a different direction. Because there was no doubt they had some kind of future together.
Bruce was gone, but Brianna would always be there between them. With them. Connecting them.
Something much stronger than words had brought them together. They needed it now. Something much stronger than words.
Moving slowly, she slid over, then up onto her hands briefly as she settled herself on his lap. “I’ve only ever seduced a guy once in my life,” she whispered, her hands on either side of his face. “I can’t guarantee I’m good at it, but I can promise you it works.” Her voice faded as, with each word, her lips moved closer to his, and she kissed him. Softly at first.
And then, his arms came around her, crushing her to him with such force that she thought she might have tasted blood. Hers. His. Both of them mingling their lives together in every possible way.
She hadn’t intended to have sex on a cold beach that night.
Hadn’t intended to do more than talk to him.