MASON (Second Chance Novels Book 2) (27 page)

"I
will
kill you," I promise. "And I don't give a nun's first fuck what your boss has planned. There is no possibility I don't win."

Fifteen
.
Sixteen. Seventeen.

The minute I'm back in Sofia's room, having showered, bleached my knife, and burned my clothing, she looks me in the eye and I nod. Relief washes over her features. Cam comes in almost the same time I do and hands her fresh clothes to replace the hospital gown. Sofia's outfit from the attack is gone, no doubt hidden or destroyed by Cam. No evidence, no connection. In any other circumstance, with any other woman, my course of action would be wrong. For her, I'm glad to be right.

Ledger continues to stand by the door, watching over Sofia. I grip his shoulder in thanks, and he nods, too. Not a single word can be spoken right now, not by any of us. There are no words for this. Ledger leads Cam from the room and closes the door. Sofia looks me straight in the eye.
 

"It's over," I tell her. She nods.

"Take me home," she says firmly. Her departure will not go over well with the nurses, but the one thing in the world which will help her now is a sense of control. Those vile bastards took her control away from her for those terrifying moments, and she needs to regain her power. Every tiny decision is hers and hers alone, including walking out of this hospital before she should. I understand completely. The longer she stays, the more they win.

I stand guard inside the door as she puts her fresh clothes on. I force my brain away from the thought of Shank on top of her, moving in her. I want to be violently ill. I can't even imagine how much stronger that sickening disgust is for her. Now that I'm coming off the full-body tension of justified killing, my focus is again on Sofia. Revenge has been satisfied. She, however, is fighting the breakdown. I'm fighting my own, and wish I could kill them again, and another ten times after.

The minute she's dressed she walks out of the room and almost bumps into a nurse coming to check on her. "I'm leaving," Sofia says with no chance for misinterpretation.
 

"Miss, you can't—"

Sofia cuts her off short. "Just get me the damn paperwork."

The nurse glances to me for help, but only finds a hardened glare that matches Sofia's.

"But—"

"
Paperwork
," Sofia emphasizes. "Or I leave without it."

The nurse sighs. "This way," she says, leading us to the main desk on this floor.
 

By the time Sofia is done, the nurse is looking at me harshly, no doubt wishing I'd talk some sense into my woman. The only focus I have is allowing Sofia complete control over her destiny. Her decision alone allowed revenge. I would have held back if she wanted me to.
 

When we get to my truck, I toss her the keys. She looks deep into me with more emotion than I expected. She understands exactly what I'm offering her. The difficult part for me right now is holding back. I'm one of the strongest people I know. I've worked hard to earn that degree of arrogance. Right now strength is stepping back so Sofia can test her own. Even after a matter of hours, Sofia is ready to try. She needs to. I'm not sure when she'll finally break down, but when she does I'll be ready to stand for her.
 

She drives us back in silence and I follow her into the house. She walks around for a moment, looking lost and angry at the same time. She tugs at that strand of her hair from behind her ear, and can't seem to even sit down. The furious tension emanating from her entire body tightens the air throughout the room. One glance at the board and she grips both hands into her hair and looks at me.

"I have to get out." Her decision. "Just get me out."

I gesture her ahead of me out the door and she walks directly to the passenger side. She's allowing me to be strong for her, and her trust in me is humbling. She needs control in her world, yet she'll rely on me to stand with her. I'm so damn in love with her it hurts.
 

I start the truck and dial my phone. "Ledger—"

"What can I do?" he asks, ready to help. He's a damn good friend.

"Use your key to my place. Pack a week's worth of clothes for both of us, and I'll need cash and two new phones. Avoid the cameras when you buy them. I'm not letting anyone track us. Call me when you've got everything and I'll tell you where to meet me."

"Yep," he says simply. I hang up and look over at my phoenix.

"Can we drive for a while?" I ask.

She nods, twisting her hair again. We drive in silence, and I watch for any followers. Seeing none, I simply wait to find out what she needs. Apparently she only needs the quiet, and I think she appreciates the driving. We keep moving without needing to know where to go. After only a half hour, my phone rings again and Ledger offers to meet me behind Second Chance.
 

He tosses the suitcases in the truck bed as I roll down my window to accept a fat envelope of cash along with the phones. I hand him our phones, never leaving Sofia's side. "Don't call unless you have to. Use only your burner."

Ledger nods and pats the truck as we pull out of the lot.

"Where are we going?" she asks eventually as I drive us from the city.
 

"The Reserve."
 

She simply looks out the window as we drive to the national park nearby, one I've been camping at a few times. Not long after, I'm paying cash to rent a remote cabin for the week. Sofia stands close to my side, but never touches me. I'm assuming any form of contact would be painful right now, so I hold back. I desperately need to hold her, examine every bit of her, and find a way to heal both her body and her mind. I'll wait for her, though. Her needs come ahead of mine, every time.

By the time we get to the cabin, Sofia's face has eased. This place represents a blank slate. There are no people around, no bad memories, no wall dedicated to an investigation which has taken so much from her, no way for anyone to find her. She takes a deep breath and stops tugging her hair.

"Thank you," she says, quietly now.
 

"Anything," I respond, hoping she'll come to my arms. She doesn't. She does, however, sit on the couch and pull a blanket around her. She curls herself up and rests her head on her knees. This is not weakness; this is exhaustion.
 

I bring her a glass of water and I grab our suitcases to walk them into the bedroom.
 

"Stay," she says quickly, halting my progress. I drop the suitcases immediately.
 

Her beautiful brown eyes soften. "Will you sit with me?"

"Of course," I respond. I follow her gaze to the seat at the other end of the couch. Keeping myself from touching her is the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life. Her entire body returns to stillness with the exception of her heart beating strongly. I simply sit near her and wait for her to guide my next move. Sadly, there isn't one. Not yet.

We spend nearly four days doing exactly that. She rests near me, quiet and still. In bed she does the same. Both of us have many evils in our minds to process, so the quiet isolation is welcome. Even as we take our meals, we do so in near silence. She never reaches for me. Not once. Today, however, Sofia speaks.
 

"I can't sleep on my back," she says, finally looking up and meeting my eyes. "Every time I try, he's there again in my mind. I know it's not real, but that's when I remember the fear. I hate that I was afraid at all."

"Sometimes fear is the only thing that makes us survive. It's a primal instinct, not something to hate," I quietly explain my philosophy. I've had years to mull over the concept. I hope she truly understands. Fear and strength are not mutually exclusive. "Sofia, even if you need to sleep on your side forever, you're the strongest woman I've ever known, fear or not.
Tu sei sempre forte
."
You are always strong.

She answers thoughtfully,
"But I need to stop this from taking over my thoughts."

"You will. You need time, that's all."

Her eyes meet mine in total frustration now.

"I can't handle being like this much longer, Mason. I'm dwelling. I need to get myself going, but I don't know how. I swear, this is all too much," she admits painfully, both from saying those words and from living them.

We sit in silence for another few minutes.

"Mason?"

"What?"

"We need to finish what we started."

There's my phoenix, looking up from her ashes and shaking off her wings.

"I've been thinking a lot about that, too," I tell her. "We'll get this done. Soon."

We sit together quietly again and remain nearly silent for the remainder of our meal. As with the entire week, I stay near her, nonstop. She wants me near her even in the bathroom while she showers, and she waits close by for me when I shower, too. I don't think it's fear that keeps her so close, but rather a need for a connection based on hope. When tragedy strikes, nothing in life is more powerful than genuine love. She's hanging on the best way she knows how right now.
 

While I shower today, I consider one more perspective for my phoenix. She wants her fear to stop. I know how to help, but the process will most likely be too emotionally painful for her right now. But much like the moment she tossed me my old dog tags, I need to pull Sofia out of this haze. It's soon. Probably too soon, but my woman wants to find her way back to herself, the sooner the better. If I cause her to fall apart, I'll save all the pieces until she's ready to be whole again.
 

With painful resolve, I exit the shower and dry off while Sofia stares blankly at the wall. She hasn't cried yet, not once, which proves she is both strong and determined. Her stoicism also proves she is forcing every negative emotion as far down as she's able. She won't deal with the pain. Knowing her, she never will, not without prodding. Again, much like me with the tragedy of losing my Army brothers, she
needs
to be called out.
 

This is going to be a long night.
 

We walk together to the bedroom of the cabin and we both put on our comfortable clothes. Sofia rests on her side, facing me, and looks down at the bedsheets. I desperately want her to look at me, so I guide her chin up. Her frustrated eyes meet mine. I take a deep breath and jump in with both feet.

"I need to tell you something," I say with a degree of seriousness.

"What?"

"Hold on, I have to back up. Do me a favor, and think about Ledger and Cam for a moment."

She furrows her brow in quiet confusion, and I give her a moment to let the concept of the two of them settle into her brain. I want her to truly understand where I'm going with this.
 

"What about them?" she asks, still quiet.

"Cam is Ledger's
dove
. The title fits her perfectly. She's sweet, peaceful, beautiful…"

She shifts so slightly, appearing more confused than before. She waits expectantly for me to speak, but I give her another moment. I have to make sure she's ready to hear this. I want to see her guard ease before I speak again. Bringing the conversation around to our friends has lessened the tension, as was my intention.

"You're no dove, Sofia, and I wouldn't want you to be. Of course, you're sweet. I've seen you peaceful and you're certainly beautiful, but the concept of 'dove' doesn't do you justice."

I move toward her and take her face in my hand because she needs to experience every part of this.
 

"You," I say with intensity. "The phoenix, Sofia. You are a brilliantly beautiful woman. You started life with fire, but you had it beaten out of you, first by that boyfriend. He reduced you to ashes. He tried to break you, but you rose and found your strength. Then those thugs in college beat you down again, and again you rose…and again a few weeks ago, and over again with the threats. Then again this week. The unthinkable…"

She's staring at me now, feeling my intensity and locking her body in a tight display of strain from holding back heavy emotion. She fights herself, staring me in the eyes.

"You have fire, strength…and every time they try to crush you,
every fucking time
, you rise up with more fire and more beauty."

I can feel her tense and I see her eyes well up. I can't stop now, even though I hate to see her on the edge of breaking.
 

"Do you remember my keychain? I thought it defined
me
, but you own the title.
You
are the only phoenix, Sofia, something
legendary
. How one woman can be everything you are doesn't seem real to me. An entire mythology is required to describe you. The entire idea of a phoenix is stronger than I ever realized, because I've seen its fire in you."

"Mason," she shakes her head, wanting me to stop. I can see in her eyes she's fighting back true, devastating tears. The effort to block her overwhelming emotion is failing, and the pain is destined to rip through her in spite of those efforts. I understand her as easily as she does me. I'm crushing her with this. My words are opening her very-guarded heart and the floodgates of her lingering fear, but I won't let her give up. I have to keep pushing, despite the pain in her eyes.