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gone
through it.
    And it wasn’t until Layla walked through it a couple of
hours later that I moved.
     
    ~~~
     
     
    “How you holding up?” Layla asked, her large eyes
watching me over the rim of her glass.
    I shrugged, leaving her question unanswered, and she
nodded as if I had answered it. “Has he spoken to you about what happened?” I
countered with another question.
    Shaking her head, she sighed. “No. Where is he anyway?”
    “No idea, he just went.”
    Placing her glass on the table, she leaned towards me
from where she sat beside me on the sofa. Taking my hand, she gave me a sad
smile. “Give him time, Ava.”
    “I can’t understand,” I spoke into the room, my brows
pinching together with the many confused thoughts in my head. “Why didn’t he
fight? Mason would never allow that to happen.”
    “Ava,” Layla said quietly. “It was George. His own son.”
    I laughed then, shaking my head in humour. “Yeah. But if
I had the courage to kill my own flesh and blood then surely Mason…”
    “You didn’t kill George,” she argued, her eyes becoming
stormy with anger. “He took his own life, Ava.”
    “I didn’t give him a choice.”
    Gritting her teeth in exasperation, she blew out a
breath. Then eyeing me warily, she frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”
    Layla was very astute, and I tensed.
    “Ava?”
    Gulping down the rest of my drink, I grabbed the bottle
and refilled my glass, pouring some into Layla’s glass before I spoke. We both
knew I was delaying but I needed to form the words in my head before I blurted
them out of my mouth carelessly. “None of us have any idea what happened in
that room with Mason and George… and Rich Vaughan and his men.”
    “And you have to wait until Mase is strong enough to tell
you.”
    My tears were so hot I swore they singed my irises when
they flowed over. My throat constricted and my voice dropped to a faint, choked
whisper, “I think he was raped, Layla.”
    I could practically hear the bile shift up her throat
when she swallowed. “Fuck!”
    “In front of his own son…”
    “Jesus Christ.” Grabbing on to my shoulders, she turned
me to face her. “You can’t know that, not until Mason confirms it. And if it’s
true then you’ll be there for him, just as much as he was there for you.”
    I nodded firmly. “I know, and I will be. But I can’t help
him if he won’t let me.”
    “Then you need to be patient. He knows you’re there. Just
give him time, and support.”
    I knew she was right, but the more Mason retreated from
me the more my heart broke, and I prayed that I would still strong enough for
him when the time came for him to need me.
     
    ~~~
     
    “Baby.”
    He was quiet but I sensed the need in his voice as soon
as it soaked into my sleep-addled brain.
    Turning over in bed to face him, my heart wept when I
found his drug-induced gaze seeking me out in the soft light of the room.
“You’re high.”
    He nodded. “Yes.” Placing his palm on my cheek I covered
his hand with my own, relishing in his touch once again.
    The sorrow pouring from him crushed my resolve and his
face blurred under the pool of tears. “Talk to me, Mason. Let me help you.”
    “Don’t cry,” he whispered as he stroked his thumbs over
my wet cheeks. “Please, don’t cry. It breaks my heart when you cry.”
    “I don’t know what to do, Mason. I love you and I can’t
make you see that. Whatever happened we’ll deal with it, together.”
    He shook his head, dropping his hands from my face and
rolled onto his back. “You can’t help me, Ava. No one can.”
    Pushing me away when I rolled into him and slid my arm
over his chest, he sat up and turned his back on me, tossing his legs over the
side of the bed.
    “You’re angry, I get that,” I tried as I sat up behind
him, but as soon as I touched him, he shot upright, shivering with my touch.
“Why won’t you let me touch you?”
    The sob that left me was loud and I winced at the