Page 108 of Fallen Hero

I blocked out every word Pete hurled at me, not ready to deal with the truth. Everything he’d said was on the money. I had opened the gate for Calista. But first, I’d unlocked the sixty-five padlocks I used to keep it closed. Then, after it was open, I’d rolled out the red carpet.

Fallon shifting snagged my attention. Happy to have a target rather than having to admit to myself I was what Pete said I was—weak as fuck—I focused on him.

“What?” I asked.

“I’ve known you a long time,” he started. “Knew you didn’t see your parents, but I had no idea you had problems with your mom.”

Fuck me to hell and back.

I twisted my neck, trying to relieve some of the tension. Though the stiffness could’ve been from the guilt that kept piling on.

“I hate my mother.” There, I said it.

Fallon’s brow winged up, silently calling me out on my bullshit.

“My mom and dad had this on-and-off relationship before she got pregnant with me. When she found out she was pregnant, she went back to my dad because the new guy she was screwing wanted no part of a kid—his or not. My dad took her back and married her. I guess everything was okay for a few years. Then when I was around five, she took off.

“She comes back a few months later, my dad takes her back. The next time she did that, I was around twelve. Now, that time I remember clearly, and it wasn’t a few months—she was gone six. She comes back, cries, begs, tells me and my dad she’s sorry for leaving us. She had a hundred bullshit excuses why she needed to find herself or be alone or whatever lame shit she said. My dad lets her move back in. It takes me a while, but I forgive her. She’s my mom, I love her. I want to believe she loves me.

“The next time she bails, it was a few weeks before my seventeenth birthday. She doesn’t show her face again until my eighteenth birthday. But now, I’m an adult. I gave my dad the choice—her or me. He picked her, so when her lying bitch ass walked in the door, I walked out.”

“That’s fucked, Mase,” Fallon muttered his understatement. “Straight up, brother, she’s a bitch. She. Is. Calista’s not—”

“Calli was never going to stay.” Fuck, that bitter pill of rejection hurt like a mother when it got stuck in my throat. “She was always going to leave. I knew she was going to quit before we came downstairs. I knew after she gave Tom the intel he needed she was going to take off and go find her peace. Find a better life. And damn, she deserves it. But that doesn’t make her walking away hurt less.”

“You asked her to come back to SD with us?” Fallon asked.

“No. I . . .” I paused.

That hesitation meant Pete could jump back in. “You chickened out, you dumbass. I don’t get it, but whatever the hell you two have going on has both of you tangled together. Did you ever maybe think she wanted to come back to California with you, but didn’t want to . . . I don’t know how chicks think . . . seem clingy?”

“You’re right, okay?” I exploded, lifting my right hand to squeeze the back of my neck. “But why the fuck are we talking about this now when she’s out there somewhere doing God knows what?”

“Because while we’re waiting on Shep to call,” Fallon started, “we’re sorting your shit out so that when we have actionable intel, you’re ready to roll out, and when we get to her, you won’t have an excuse to puss out.”

My hand dropped from my neck to my chest. Christ, was I having a cardiac episode? Was the ache from the thought of losing her completely or her coming back to California? From the moment she’d walked out the door, I felt the pressure building, and it was only partly because she was pissed at me. If the thought of losing Calista forever made my chest feel like I was having a heart attack, the reality of that would surely kill me.

“Mason.” Catarina called my name. “I do know how women think. And I know what I saw when she got into the elevator. She’s scared. Of you, of being rejected, of accepting help, of failing. I get the feeling the two of you are exactly the same—too afraid to trust because both of you know how bad it hurts when the person you trusted burns you. It’s going to have to be you, asking her to stay. She won’t let herself hope for a life with you. If you let her, she’ll run.”

Isn’t that what she’d already done while I stupidly hesitated, too caught up in my anger to stop her? Instead of nursing my pride, I should’ve tossed her over my shoulder and locked her in our room until I’d talked some sense into her.

Our room.

Christ.

Before I could come up with a response to what Cat had said, Pete reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and frowned.

“Unknown caller,” he announced. Then answered, “Who’s this?”

Pete frowned again, but it wasn’t until his shoulders tensed and his eyes fell to the floor that I knew something was wrong.

“What’s—”

“Let me put you on speaker,” Pete spoke over me. “You still there, Atlanta?”

“Yeah. Like I was saying, I’ve been calling her for the last ten minutes.”

“She bolted,” I told her. “Before I could get to her, she got into a taxi.”