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Lance
It takes me all day to get my shit together and make my way up to the seventy-ninth floor of the Montwell. The majority of staff have already left for the day, but I know that Mason will still be here, cooped up in his office to avoid going home to the silence. He only started working late after Nina left him last year, and unless he has Ellis for the night or over the weekend, he’ll spend as little time in his home as possible.
It only adds to the bullshit ache in my chest.
I probably don’t deserve to feel it. Not when I caused everyone else something so much worse.
Guilt drives me, and I lift my hand and knock before stepping into Mason’s office.
He has his head down when I enter, his hands raking through his hair as he clings to the roots. “What is it, Sullivan?” he questions, a sigh leaving him.
“I need to talk to you….” I take an unsteady breath in. “It’s about Jasmine… and that night.”
“Not now.”
“Mase—”
He lifts his head, ready to cut me off. I frown when I see his face, the red-rimmed eyes that stare back at me. His nostrils flare as he takes me in. “You look like shit.”
I slant my head, shrugging. “You don’t look so great yourself.”
He sniggers and sits back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.
I likely do look like shit. I’ve not slept in days—weeks, even. Not with knowing what my sister did. What I did. And after spending the night of Elliot’s birthday with Scarlet, hearing her tell me about her year, her mum, her healing—I knew, even as I selfishly pulled her closer, I knew I couldn’t do it to her.
The truth would come out eventually. Because the truthalwayscomes out.
I walk to the small bar and pour two glasses of whiskey, placing one on the desk in front of Mase. “Wanna talk about it?” I ask, wondering what might’ve caused the raw emotion still lingering in his eyes.
He rights himself in the leather seat, shaking his head as he stares at the tumbler I just placed down.
I should tell him now. Get it over and done with.
My hand shakes as I lift the crystal to my mouth and take a sip. If Mason notices, he doesn’t say.
“My sister—my fucking baby sister, Lance.” I feel the blood drain from my face, my entire body stiffening. Does he know? How could he? Unless she told him… “She called me weeks ago. Told me my dad’s headstone was ready to be placed, that the ground was settled enough. You know what I did?”
I shake my head, swallowing the dryness in my throat as my body relaxes.
“Nothing.” His eyes glimmer and I see it, the pain, the guilt, the ache. “I did nothing.” He stares across his office toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. I sit wide-eyed, staring at him. One of my best friends. My family. “How did we end up here? I mean, I know life throws curveballs, butfuck.”
I take another sip and then clear my throat. “You’re not a bad person, Mason.”
“Maybe,” he retorts, bringing his attention back to me. “But I’m not a good one either.” He shakes his head. “The things I put Nina through since meeting her. And the brother I’ve never been to Scar. Or the son I stopped being long before Dad—” He controls his emotions with a heavy exhale. “The damage isn’t something I can ever change. It’s forever.”
“We all make mistakes,” I tell him. “Nina’s coming back to you. You guys will figure this out… and Scarlet loves you.” I swallow hard, forcing down the lump forming. “Your sister loves you, Mase.”
He sniggers and I fight the urge to reach over the desk and shake him.
“She does,” I snap.
“I know.” He frowns at me, finally taking a sip of his drink. “I think it’s what pisses me off the most.” His eyes move over the papers on his desk. “I can’t help but sit here now and think back on all the things I should have done differently, what I should have been for you all.”
I flinch, rebuking, “You owemenothing.”
“No? You didn’t stand with me through the shit with Cara? Cover my ass when Marcus was killed? I dragged you, Elliot, and Charlie through all of my mess. All of it.” He peers down at the golden liquid in his glass. “You’re a solid friend, Sullivan.”
“No, I’m not,” I grit out.
