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That was low of me, I know. It’s not that girl’s fault and it really isn’t Mason’s either.

There’s more blood smudged around my mouth and neck than there should be. With my adrenaline and anger dying down, I notice that my tongue’s throbbing in pain. I probably bit it hard. I wet my hand and start to get the blood off my face, out of my hair, and off my clothes. Before opening the door again, I double-check that I look close to normal. Satisfied, I swing the door open only to come face to face with a pissed off Mason, leaning on the wall across from the bathroom door, with his arms crossed.

He pushes himself off the wall when he sees me. “What the fuck, Amelia?”

I instantly go into defense mode. “Don’t ‘What the fuck,’ me, Mason! If anything, I should be ‘What the fuck’-ing you!”

I walk out of the run-down building and into the fresh air, and he quickly follows, stopping in front of me.

His face softens despite my outrage and he steps closer, reaching out to me. “Just tell me what happened.”

“What happened,” I snap, getting angrier with every word, “was that you ditched me to talk to some girl. I was left alone, which was what we were working so hard to avoid, and then I was kidnapped and dragged behind the building where two assholes proceeded to hassle me and one drove his fist into my stomach before some guy who wasn’t you saved my ass!”

I purposely decide not to tell him who it was. I may be pissed at Mason, but I still don’t want him to do something stupid like try to confront Dave.

Mason’s face drains of color as I snap at him, guilt spreading over his features.

“God, Amelia, I am so, so, sorry. Are you okay? Of course you’re not okay, what a stupid thing to ask! I’m so sorry; I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted you to get hurt! I’m the worst friend in the whole entire world; please forgive me. I promise not to leave your side ever again.”

His apology starts to melt my cold façade, but then that girl in the booty shorts and knee highs that he ditched me to talk to calls his name and waves him over enthusiastically, and I harden again. Mason looks over at her when she calls him and another wave of guilt washes over his face.

“Just go,” I say emotionlessly, stepping around him and walking back to where I think we parked when we got here. “Oh, and Mason? No one finds out about this. Especially not Aiden.”

I don’t wait for his response as I continue on my journey. I’m hurt, there’s no doubt about that. What aches the most is that I considered Mason one of my best friends, and he let something so horrible happen to me. I know it’s not his responsibility to protect me, but I still can’t help but blame him. I’ll forgive him . . . eventually.

The whole time I’m walking back to the group, Mason is trailing slightly behind me; I can feel his regretful gaze burning holes through the back of my head. When the group is within eyesight, I stop and wait for Mason to catch up to me so that we can walk up together.

He looks down at me expectantly with pleading brown eyes, waiting to see what I’ll say. I hold my ground despite my wavering resolve to stay mad at him, selfishly choosing to let him stay guilty for just a bit longer before I break and forgive him.

“No one finds out about what happened, ever. Got it?”

Mason hesitates. “Only if you tell me who did it. Was it Ryan?”

I don’t say anything and anger fills his brown eyes as he thinks about who could’ve possibly hurt me. “Just tell me, Amelia. I won’t say anything if you just give me their names and let me deal with them.”

“Drop it, Mason,” I say, my anger toward him practically gone.

“No, Amelia.” He holds his ground. “Someone thinks it’s okay to keep messing with you and get away with it. Hell, I’ll even tell Aiden and face his ass-kicking if it means he’ll fuck up the people who hurt you.”

My heart melts. “How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you talk like that?”

“I mean it, Amelia. Just say the name—”

“Why?” I interrupt. “So that you can go fight him? So you can get yourself unnecessarily hurt to defend my honor? That’s a stupid reason to fight. I don’t want anyone getting hurt on my behalf, Mason. It’s done. Luke saved me and I’m grateful, but I just want this to be over and done with and—”

“Luke?” Mason asks. “Where do I know a Luke from?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, steering his thoughts away from Luke, whom I shouldn’t have even mentioned in the first place. “Just promise me you won’t say anything.”

“But I really want to kick their—”

“Mason! If you promise me you won’t tell anyone and forget about this, I’ll forgive you,” I plead.

He looks at me skeptically, seeming to have an internal fight between his need to get revenge or to get my friendship back.

“It is always easier to ask forgiveness later, than permission now,” he reasons with himself.

“Mason! I swear, if you go around starting unnecessary fights I’ll be really mad at you! Would you rather get in a fight and lose a friend, or help me out and be besties again?”

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