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He felt like a selfish bastard for wanting both Ash and Sparrow, because he was in no position to have both of them. He had been lucky as fuck when he found Ash, and although he certainly never thought he would have been in a relationship with a man, or even fall in love with one, that was exactly what happened.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice was low, and she tried to act like she was busy dressing the wound, but he heard the slight quiver in her voice.
“Yeah, Sparrow, you can.” And he meant it, because Mason didn’t want to hide anything from her, not after what happened. It pissed him off that his little bird being taken had knocked some fucking sense into him, and it made him realize that this chip he carried around on his shoulder was only holding him back.
He couldn’t go back to only confiding in Asher when he felt like it or to keeping even the man he loved at a distance more times than not. He wanted Sparrow, and not just because she was gorgeous and the first woman he had really seen since the infection had spread and he lost her.
Mason wanted Sparrow, because she was the first woman who opened his eyes and his heart and showed him that losing the ones he loved didn’t mean he could never feel again, but that he needed to open himself to the possibilities that were right in front of him. She reached down and grabbed her bag, riffled through it until she found what she was looking for, and set the pill bottle on the nightstand.
“I found some antibiotics at the pharmacy. You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” He shook his head, and she nodded. “Good. I’ll have you take one of these three times a day, just in case. The last thing you need is an infection.” A beat of silence stretched between them.
“My allergies weren’t what you planned on asking me, was it?”
She licked her lips and glanced down at her lap. “No, it wasn’t.” Another second passed before she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. God, her eyes were so blue and pretty. “What does your tattoo mean?” She reached for the tape, tore off one more long piece, and secured it on his shoulder. But before she could move away too far, he reached out and took hold of her hand.
A small noise left her, and he knew she also felt the electrical charge at the contact. He held her hand for probably a moment too long, but her skin was so soft, and her hand so much smaller than his. Reluctantly, he let go of her and rested his head against the pillow.
He might as well start from the beginning, because he eventually planned to tell her anyway. If she was going to be staying with them—and Mason wanted that desperately, and he knew Ash did too—then he needed to be honest with her. This world didn’t need any more secrets. He certainly didn’t want her thinking that he was this big fucking asshole because he liked being like that. She deserved the truth.
“I got the tattoo after my stint with the Navy ended.” He had a few other tattoos on his body, ones he had gotten with his buddies while an active Navy SEAL, ones that were for honor and courage and to remember his fallen brethren. But this one was different and meant something far different. “I was married with a son.” His throat clogged up. The only other time he had ever spoken about this was with Ash, and that had been one of the hardest conversations he ever had.
“If this is too hard to talk about, we don’t—”
He shook his head, stopping her. “No. I want to tell you, need to tell you. You need to know why I am the way I am and why I will always be like this.”
“Like this?”
He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and breathed out. “Yeah, Sparrow. I’ll always be a hardheaded bastard at the best of times. My frustration and anger are a never-ending cycle inside me. I won’t ever be like Asher. He’s sweet and kind, gentle, and will treat you like a delicate piece of china.”
Her eyes were wide, and although he didn’t want to scare her or make her uncomfortable, there was no denying that she had to hear everything. She placed her hand right over his, and his heart slammed against his sternum.
“This tattoo represents life, of what I lost, but what I want to have in the future.” He turned more on his side so she could fully see the tree that covered an entire side of his abdomen. Pushing down the waistband of his jeans, he then pressed his arm across his chest so nothing obstructed her view. He gritted his teeth from the movement and the pain it caused. There was a small sound that left her.
He looked over his shoulder and watched her, but she was looking at his side with her mouth slightly parted. She reached her hand out, but right before she made contact with his skin, she stopped and flicked her eyes to his.
“May I?” Her voice was soft, hesitant even. He nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. Mason had to control everything inside him not to move or make a sound as she glided her fingers along the roots of the tree that spread across to his abdomen and around to his lower back.
Gritting his teeth, because her touch felt so fucking good, he forced himself to keep his eyes open as she moved her fingers up the trunk and along the branches.
“There aren’t any leaves.” It wasn’t a question.
“Before I left for duty, my wife became pregnant, but we lost the baby.” Her movements stilled, but he reached across, took her hand, and continued to move it along the bared branches snaking up his ribcage. “The tree started off as just this branch with the tiny blackbird on it.” She pressed her entire hand over the bird. “When I came back home, we tried for another baby. She got pregnant, and we had our son nine months later.”
He knew she was crying without even looking at her anymore. He could smell the saltiness of her tears as if they were his own.
“Tyler had a rare disorder and actually outlived the lifespan the doctors gave him by a year.” His chest hurt from the memory, but he needed to keep going. “After he died, Molly sank into a deep depression. I didn’t know what to do or how to get my wife back. I ended up getting the rest of the tree as sort of a tribute to what we lost and what I wanted to gain in the future.” He glanced at her once again. “To answer your question, the branches are bare, because on the outside, it appears dead, but if you look harder and really see what is there, you’ll realize the tree isn’t dead at all.” He moved her hand down to the roots. “There is still life underneath it all, and we just have to wait for the seasons to change for that life to come back to us.”
Her tears were running freely down her cheeks now, and he lifted his hand and brushed them away.
“She didn’t have time to come out of the depression, because she was bitten before the infection was widely publicized.” By the look in her eyes, he knew he didn’t have to explain to her that he killed his wife right after she became infected.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was low and filled with pain. He didn’t want to have the past hold him back from taking that next step forward.
He shook his head. He didn’t want her to say sorry, because that wasn’t why he told her. She may have been quiet, but Sparrow had shown she was an empathetic person. He had seen the way she would watch the blackbirds rest atop the dead phone lines that lined the street as they walked. Saw the small smile on her face when the clouds broke free and the sun sliced through the murkiness.
She was a gentle soul with a fierce exterior.
“Life is all about give and take, of dying and being reborn. A little piece of Molly died after the miscarriage, but she was reborn when Tyler came along. But as life tends to keep throwing hardballs, and giving wave after hard and painful wave of turbulence, we lost Tyler. She was never the same after that.” He looked into her eyes. “I lost her long before the immunization turned everyone into these walking corpses, long before I ended her life and her suffering. I felt a lot of guilt for thinking I had done the right thing.” Mason had only cried three times in his life. The first two were when he lost his children, and the third when he watched Molly close her eyes for the last time after he shoved his blade into her head. But unexpected tears started to form in his eyes.
