Fallen Crest Home, Page 7

  scratches on my neck. There were other marks under my shirt, but those weren’t any of his business either.

  I jerked up a shoulder, turning my back to him. “It’s nothing. Something stupid.” That’d been my fault in the first place.

  “Adam texted me. He said Mason’s covered in bruises and has a busted lip.”

  Fucking hell. I whirled around. “That’s why you came over, isn’t it?” New understanding dawned. “That’s why we’re here. You’re not avoiding your girlfriend. You’re trying to get information out of me.”

  When he shrugged, I knew I was right.

  He kept picking up trash. “Would you have told me if I came out and asked?”

  “No, and I’m not telling you now either. It’s no one’s business, and it’s over with.”

  “Is it?”

  I could only stare at him for a moment. There was something more to his tone. Mark was always the carefree, laidback one. He was actual friends with Logan—had been even before I started dating Mason and Mark’s mom started with my dad. He’d never been like this, trying to pry into my business or having something akin to brotherly protectiveness in his voice.

  I didn’t know how to process this. “What are you doing here?”

  He dropped his arms and gave up trying to work and talk at the same time. “I’m worried, okay? I know the type of trouble Mason and Logan get into, and I don’t know.” His jaw clenched as he was silent for a beat. “Maybe it’s because you and I are actually like brother and sister. Maybe it’s because my mom loves you so much. I worry. Okay? I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Nothing does.” But that wasn’t true.

  “You were put in the hospital by crazy chicks because of Mason.” He looked over my face and neck. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to say those happened because of him, too.”

  My neck grew warm. I gritted my teeth. “Back off about this, Mark. You’re going to ruin a relationship I was enjoying having with you.”

  My message was clear: Push me and I’ll choose Mason. Every. Damn. Time.

  After a moment he asked, “Did I tell you the crazy shit Cass wants me to do this summer?”

  He’d dropped it. I should’ve been thankful, but I wasn’t. Feeling a weird sense of disappointment mixed with wariness, I just shook my head. I shoved that away. Mark was a good brother, or he was trying to be. That was all. I couldn’t get mad at him for doing what I’d do for him.

  But as he launched into some story about Cass wanting him to join a walking club, I listened with a knot in my stomach. The previous conversation wasn’t over. It had just been dropped, for now.

  A few hours later, we heeded the worker’s warning and made sure Keifer paid us. After he demanded to know who told us to request our money, he slapped some paperwork in front of us with a couple pens. “You might as well fill those out, if we’re going to make this legal after all.”

  Mark and I shared a look.

  Keifer noticed. “What? We’re not completely illegal here.” He tapped the papers. “I’ll get what I owe you for today, but if you’re serious about a job, come back tomorrow. Keep doing trash, and I’ll find something better by the end of the week for you two.” He paused, looking us over with suspicion. “I’m assuming you want to man a booth together?”

  Mark lifted a hand. “I was hoping for the beer garden.” That was true. That was the whole reason Mark suggested a job here.

  Keifer laughed, but stared at me. It was like an idea had come to him, and he nodded. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

  Mark frowned at me. I shrugged in response. I didn’t know what that was about, but we left with money in our pockets.

  We were nearing Mark’s car when the worker we’d spoken to earlier called to us. He raised an arm and veered around some vehicles with the same lithe athleticism he’d showed earlier when he jumped into his booth.

  “Hey! Wait up.” Slowing as he neared us, he flashed his white teeth. “You two got paid?”

  “We did.”

  I let Mark do the talking.

  The guy bobbed his head up and down, seeming to mull something over. “Well, okay. Have a good night.” He held a hand out in a wave, walking back to where he’d come from.

  “That was weird,” Mark said as we got in the car.

  “Yeah.”

  But the guy wasn’t on my mind. Mark’s new protectiveness was. Mason would be waiting for me when I got home, but I didn’t know if I wanted to tell him about this change. The job, yes. Mark’s concern for me, no. Not yet, anyway.

  MASON

  The day had been…not as I’d expected. Quinn wasn’t half bad when it came to offering ideas, and he no longer had that look he had in high school—like I had something he wanted and he hated me for it. I wasn’t feeling the need to punch him at the end of the day. That lasted until we headed out to the parking lot and a girl with dark red hair greeted him, tipping her head back for a kiss.

  I recognized her. Becky Sullivan, the chick who’d backstabbed Sam on more than a few occasions.

  As they kissed, my phone started ringing. I turned my back on them, headed to my vehicle as I raised the phone. “Yeah?”

  “You want to tell me why the fuck I’m getting messages that Sam’s covered in bruises?”

  I looked at the ID. “Funny. My phone says this is my brother calling, not Samantha’s boyfriend.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I grunted, getting into the Escalade. “No, fuck you. You don’t call and chew my ass out, like I’m supposed to report to you or something.”

  He groaned. “You’re kidding me, right?! Why is Samantha looking like she got drop-kicked on her head, and why am I hearing this from Mark and not you?”

  “Mark?”

  “Yeah,” Logan bit out. “You get why I’m a little pissed right now? I’m finding it out from Sam’s stepbrother. What the hell is going on?”

  “Nothing we can’t handle.”

  He grew quiet for a moment. His voice was low when he spoke again. “Why are you shutting me out?”

  “Because you’re in Paris with Mom and with your girlfriend. I don’t want you coming back early because you don’t think I can handle things.”

  “That’s not what—”

  “That’s exactly what you’d do.” I sat back, the keys dangling in the starter.

  “You don’t have backup.”

  “I called Matteo in. He was heading home for a few weeks. He said he’s happy to stay a while instead.”

  “Nate’s not there.”

  “Nate will be here in two weeks.”

  “Then you’re alone for those two weeks.”

  “Logan,” I growled. I reached forward, starting the engine. “We’re fine. We got into one sticky situation. Channing and his crew were there. They helped us out. We’re fine. You think I’d let Sam be put in danger again?”

  “Why was she put in danger in the first place?” he growled back.

  Because she wanted to be somewhere her mother wasn’t. Because she didn’t want to feel afraid that the woman who gave birth to her might cross the street and potentially hurt her again. Because… I sighed to myself. Because maybe she just wanted to be normal and go to an event with her friend.

  I said none of that.

  “Because a situation got out of hand. I didn’t read it right quickly enough. That’s why.”

  “You weren’t going to tell me—”

  I was growing tired of this, real fast. “Stop it. You’re acting like this is personal against you. It’s not. I’m trying to be a decent brother. If you were here, you would’ve been there with us. You know that. I didn’t tell you—I would’ve at some point—but I hadn’t yet because I’m trying to let you enjoy your time away.”

  “Right,” Logan grumbled. “Enjoy my time with Mom, you mean? It’s like she’s got a GPS strapped to Taylor’s ass. Every time I get near her, Mom’s coming into the room.”

  I relaxed, grinning now. “You’re in the same ho
tel room as she is?”

  “Mom got these big suites—you know, the type where it’s a main living area with three bedrooms attached. She says I should respect her presence and ‘refrain from inappropriate behavior.’” He snorted. “Her exact words. And what’s worse is that Taylor is buying all her shit.”

  “Taylor’s just trying to be nice. You’re forgetting that Helen likes Taylor. She’s not been given the ice treatment like Sam always has.”

  Logan swore under his breath. “That’s just because of Analise. Mom’ll get her stick out of her ass once Sam starts pushing out babies.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” I had other things to tell him, but I glanced out the window and saw one of those things approaching. This might be a good time to shelve Quinn for a longer phone call. “I gotta go,” I told him. “I’ll call you later.”

  Once Logan hung up, I turned the Escalade off and opened the door again. Adam had stopped a few feet away when he saw I was on the phone, but he closed the distance now.

  “Uh, hey.” The project partner who’d showed up at the country club eight hours earlier hadn’t been cautious or reserved, yet he was exactly those two qualities now.

  I narrowed my eyes. Whatever he was about to say, it was going to be on the personal level.

  He jerked a thumb toward his truck where his girl was leaning. “Becky just got a text from Cass. I guess Mark showed up with Sam. They’re talking about a barbeque. Would you want to—”

  “Sam’s there?”

  He nodded.

  “She’s not planning on leaving?”

  “Probably, but Mark’s her ride, and he wants to stick around a while. I thought maybe—”

  I waved him off. I didn’t need to know any more. “Text me the directions. I have to pick someone up first.”

  “Oh.” He blinked a few times. “Okay. Yeah, I can do that.”

  After picking up Matteo at Helen’s house, we headed farther north in Fallen Crest. We lived on a good street, but this was another one, and Matteo whistled as he checked out the house.

  “Is money just in the water or something? Is getting rich contagious here? Because shit, who do I kiss to get sick?”

  I grinned, getting out and circling to his side. “Not these people.” I filled him on the history with Quinn when I first picked him up.

  “Why’s Sam here again?” he asked, following me to the front door.

  I didn’t answer because I was wondering the same damned thing.

  I rang the doorbell.

  SAMANTHA

  I was having déjà vu from high school, except it was Matteo behind Mason and not Logan.

  “Hey!” Mark approached them, his hand raised for a fist-bump. Mason frowned, but lifted his hand, and Mark threw his arm around my boyfriend’s shoulders. “You’ll never guess where Sam and I got a job today.”

  Mason’s narrowed eyes moved in my direction. I shifted on my feet, tugging my shirt down. I’d been doing that since we arrived. It was my nervous habit—that and smoothing a hand over my stomach. I always tried to calm the nerves in there, but it never actually worked. I caught myself doing it again and cursed under my breath, letting my hand fall away.

  Mason made his way to me, leaving Matteo and Mark to do their own fist-bumps. Matteo had met my stepbrother on a few visits, and the two had loved each other at first sight. Add Logan to their mix, and they were too much to take sometimes. Their bromance was on steroids.

  “What…” Mason started, taking the chair next to me.

  We had settled around tables surrounding Cass’ pool.

  “Mark said he just wanted to pick something up. That was an hour ago.” I didn’t share how that “something” had turned out to be his girlfriend. They’d been in a back bedroom until twenty minutes ago when Mark came out and told me Becky and Adam were coming over. I cast Mason a quizzical look. “I almost fell off the chair when Mark said you were coming. I was getting ready to run home when he told me that.”

  He groaned. “If I’d known that, I would’ve just come to pick you up.”

  I was about to ask what was stopping us from going now, but I caught his glance at Matteo. That was the problem. “He looks so happy to see Mark.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We can leave him here, come back later.”

  Mason gave me a halfhearted smile. “I can be an asshole, but that’s a real douchebag move. I can’t ditch my buddy here.”

  I refrained from reminding him how Matteo had ditched him at Channing’s fight. Mason was aware of that, so if he was sticking around, there was a reason.

  “What was Mark talking about before?”

  “Oh.” I rolled my eyes, ready to launch into the whole spiel when Becky and Adam came over. They’d arrived only five minutes earlier than Mason, so there’d been no awkward greetings. Yet. As Becky pressed a hand over her hair, trying to calm it, I saw how tightly she gripped Adam’s other hand.

  “Hey, Samantha.” Becky’s voice hitched, sounding breathless. She bit her lip fiercely. “Uh…how are you?” Her hand jerked up, pointing to me. “It’s nice to see you here.”

  There was the old Becky. Awkward. Self-conscious. Tentative. The girl I saw a couple years ago hadn’t resembled the girl who’d been my friend when so many turned their backs on me. She’d looked sophisticated with nice clothing, makeup, and her hair sleek. She’d seemed confident, too, and while physically she looked the same now, I felt some familiarity at seeing the Becky I used to know.

  “Becky.” I indicated their joined hands. “You guys seem to be doing well.”

  Her hand tightened around his. “Oh, yes. It’s been wonderful.” Her head tipped back, and she offered Adam a loving look. “Almost like a fairytale even.”

  Adam mirrored her look, a soft grin teasing his mouth, before he focused on us. “So are you two. I mean, since junior year in high school. That’s a long time.”

  I glanced at Mason. He’d been watching the exchange with an unreadable mask, but I saw through it. He was thinking, what the fuck is this?

  I almost laughed. “Yeah. We’re doing good.”

  Mason frowned. “Why the fuck are we here, Quinn?”

  There he was.

  I laughed now.

  The old Mason, the old Quinn.

  For whatever reason, it settled me.

  Adam coughed. “Nice, Mason.”

  “Sam thought she came here for a pit stop. We’re both only here because we were told about the other. It seems like a setup. What’s going on?”

  Mark laughed uncomfortably as he migrated over with Matteo and Cass. “What’s happening?”

  Mason fixed him with a look, his eyebrows slightly raised, as if he were asking, Are you serious? “We’re not friends with Quinn. Sam doesn’t hang out with your girlfriend or this one any longer.” He gestured toward Becky. “So why are we were?”

  “No reason.” Mark shrugged, resting his arm around Cass’ shoulders. “I didn’t mean to stay this long. Just got distracted. That’s all.”

  I could hear Mason’s thoughts. He was thinking this was bullshit, and I knew it was only a matter of time before that sentiment came out again, but not so nicely. Mason was being