Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) (18 page)

“Where,” Mason asked.

“He came out the office, but we never saw him go in. Mikala’s been in there for a good twenty minutes now,” Chase said, sliding his key in the lock.

Mason barged past him and gazed over the room. “Mik?” he called out.

“Mason.” Mikala managed to squeak out, in a strangled breath.

“Sugar, what are you doing on the flo…” he couldn’t finish his sentence, once he saw her laying shaking with her eyes closed.

He touched her shoulder and she bolted into his arms like a frightened kitten. Mason held her turning with a look of confusion to Chase and Eden. Shouldering her back to see her face, Mason’s eyes widened when his saw her cheek glowing bright red, with a shadow of black and purple forming a bruise.

Stepping her back into her seat, he knelt between her legs, palming her face. “Did
he
do this, sugar? Did that bastard hit you?” he asked, Mikala nodded a yes as he pulled her into a hug. She flinched letting out a moan of pain, grasping her side. “What the fuck did he do to you?”

Mason pulled her dress up moving her hand away. A blue and red bruise marred her perfect ivory skin. Mason’s jaw tightened when he imagined a man raising his hand to a woman…his woman.

“I’ll kill the fucking bastard. He’ll never lay a hand on you or any other woman again.” Mason assured her, holding her face in his hands. “I guaran-fucking-tee it!”

***

After Mikala refused to go to the hospital to be checked over by a doctor, Mason drove her home in silence. Once in the privacy of Mason’s room, he stripped her naked and inventoried every mark that the creep left on her skin. Anger built with each mark he discovered on her delicate flesh. Vengeance was going to be sweet once his hands cheerfully throttled the loser.

For now, all that mattered was taking Mikala’s mind off of the assault and Pulse and making sure she was safe.

“I promise as soon as we get back from Mel’s I’m putting in a tub,” Mason vowed, as he helped Mikala into the shower stall. Her ribs still ached terribly, he couldn’t stop himself pampering her, even though she protested every move he made.

Sadly she was haunted by the creeper and his assault, it left her in a vile mood and Mason was her constant target. Not a thing he did or said was right and she was quick to point it out.

“Don’t bother for me, I won’t be here long enough to enjoy it,” she reminded him.

“Still gonna do it, I always meant to, I was going to have it done when the baby was born.”

“Yeah well, too late for that,” she said, turning away to face into the spray of the water. Any conversation was unambiguously over.

“I know it’s late but I’m going to make something for us to eat, are you okay, do you need anything?”

“Close the door when you leave,” she said, curtly.

Mason stood staring into the pot of steaming hot Tortellini and vodka sauce, his mind totally enthralled in his thoughts, after a day spent watching the office footage and the incident tonight. He quaked each time he recalled the moment that the creep slapped her face, then her reaction when his fist slammed into her side and he kicked her to the floor. Mason was nearly sick to his stomach, beating himself up for letting her temper get the best of him and leaving her with Chase. Not blaming Chase for a minute, he still couldn’t help being angry with his friend for allowing her to go off on her own. Putting blame where it belonged, he knew it was entirely his fault for Mikala getting hurt.

Mikala snapped her fingers in his face. He turned to see her standing at his side in his robe. He blinked several times before his brain cleared.

“Sorry, sugar, thinking,” he said.

“That smells good,” she said, sitting at her appointed spot at the island, while he silently served up the pasta, grabbing salad and dressing from the fridge and a basket of dinner rolls from the counter.

“Want something to drink? I have Mateus chilling in the wine cooler,” Mason asked, standing before she gave an answer.

“No thanks,” she said, tearing a piece of her roll and dipping it into the sauce on her plate taking a bite. “This is good.”

“You want pop or water?” he asked, opening the fridge and scouting the contents for more options.

“No Mason, I don’t want anything to drink,” she snapped. “Just sit and eat, okay?

“Okay,” Mason answered, taking his seat beside her and reaching for a roll.

The entire meal was spent in an uncomfortable quietness, Mason had so much to say but with Mikala’s temper rising he didn’t dare.

When he noticed her pattern of shuffling food around her plate, he reached over and cleaned away their dishes. Mikala curled up the fringe of her napkin while Mason rinsed the plates and loaded the dishwasher.

“Want anything else, sugar? Tea or coffee, maybe dessert?” he asked, knowing full well she wanted nothing, but trying his best to break her mood.

“Can you please stop trying so fucking hard?” she asked, tossing her napkin onto the counter.

Mason threw his hands into the air letting out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Don’t do anything.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with her fingertips.

“Is that what you really want, sugar? You really don’t want me to be a part of your life? Are we finished here?” his voice was soft, strangling in his throat.

“Mason, please try to understand,” she said, never attempting to look in his direction, because she knew if she did, she would tell him all the words he wanted to hear and she wasn’t ready just yet. “I’m having trouble dealing with our past. There are things…so many things.”

“It always comes down to the past,” Mason said, barely audibly. “Why can’t you live in the here and now?”

Rage and hurt jabbed at his heart as he wrung the dish towel brutally in his hands, coming to a harsh decision. One that was either going to snap her out of this punishment fixation and allow them to move on, or leave him very much alone. The latter was not the ideal ending, but this had to be done once and for all. He threw the dish towel to join her napkin, standing straight and demanding.

“No matter how hard I try and no matter how much I want to, it’s impossible to change history. Believe me, I’d give up my own life to do just that,” he said, sucking in a deep breath before continuing, “Mikala, you either forgive me and we move on, or you don’t and we go our separate ways, but I can’t live like this any longer. How many ways can I say I’m sorry? How long are you going to make me suffer? I feel like I’m banging my head off a wall. I’m bleeding here can’t you see? And for what, I give up…I give up.”

Mason grabbed a beer from the fridge as Mikala sat staring at him without a response. Presumably, he had his answer. He was about to disappear to his laptop for the evening, when Mikala moved into his path blocking his way.

“Are you giving me an ultimatum, Mason?” she asked, narrowing her eyes, not pleased to be put on the spot. Not one to be shoved without shoving back, she was ready to battle.

He deliberated for a moment, “Yes, I guess I am.”

He reached for a lock of her hair twirling it around his finger, holding back the urge to lean forward breathing her in.  He warily tucked it over her shoulder with the rest of her silken red curls.

“I’m leaving for Mel’s on Friday at ten am,” he announced. “If you are willing to forgive me, your bags will be packed waiting with mine at the door.”

“And if I can’t do it?” she asked.

Her words burned deep leaving an oozing, gaping wound. Feeling like a lariat was tightening around his throat at the idea of walking away, yet again; he cocked his chest taking a manly stance. “The choice is yours.” He shouldered past her to his desk and turning on the desk light.

“Mason,”

He looked up to see her still standing where he had left her, her back to him. “What about Pulse and the creep?”

“I am nothing if not professional. I won’t shirk my duties. I’ll be there until the jobs done.” he assured her, quickly turning his attention to unopened mail on his desk.

Assuming by the conversation she was choosing not to forgive, he browsed his mail and then got to work on the final phase of security. He’d fax it to Chase before calling it a night.

Aware of every move Mikala made, he tried desperately to appear too busy to notice. The smell of her body wash and shampoo as it wafted under his nose had images of her wet nakedness getting in the way of his work, and the moment he was hit by the sweet smell of pears he was finished. Scribbling a quick note, he grabbed up his paperwork shoving it haphazardly into his briefcase. As he sped past the bathroom he taped the note to the door. Throwing on shoes and jacket, he set the alarm system before speeding out into the night.

***

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to forgive Mason; it was simply that she didn’t know how.

Mikala didn’t know how she was going to get over the things that had happened. The feeling of abandonment when he walked away mixed with the loss of Charlie was almost too much to bear.

Brushing out her hair a sudden lump formed in her throat, she swallowed back the threat of tears thinking of how easy it would be to just let it all go and fall into Mason’s arms.

She shrugged into Mason’s robe deciding they should talk, she’d open up and tell him finally what his walking away did to her and plead with him never to do it again.

When she opened the door, the note caught her eye as it flew up in the swift breeze, she read the words
I had to go out
and her stomach rolled with that sick familiar feeling of being left alone
again
.

Her eyes scanned the loft as if the note didn’t exist and Mason would be sitting at his desk or cuddled up with a book in bed or watching TV, she found herself in the kitchen unscrewing the cap on a bottle of vodka, raising it to her lips.

With the bottle half empty before she knew what she was doing, she slammed it onto the counter without recapping it, going to bed before she finished the entire thing.

She lay in bed with her eyes focused on a spot on the ceiling while the room spun out of control. “Why does everyone abandon me?” she asked the empty room. “Why do
I
have to be all alone?”

Her eyes drifted closed, sending her into quiet darkness.

There was soft music playing off in the distance and a haunting chill in the air. Goosebumps formed on the surface of Mikala’s skin, she wrapped her arms across her chest to stop shaking. It was dark, but not so dark that she couldn’t make out shapes of people at a close distance. She opened her mouth to speak but had no tongue, searching her open mouth desperately with her fingers. A hand grasped her wrist, pulling her across the room to where a tiny lace draped basinet sat empty. She turned to see the face of her captor but it was hidden behind a sad theatrical mask. Her body was wheeled around to face a row of masked people all dressed in black calling her name. As each stepped forward, they removed their mask revealing a piece of her past. The first were her parents in the front seat of their car, as she watched them die from the back seat after the horrific accident caused by a drunk driver. A repeat of the first scene replaced by different events, revealed the people that came and left her world just as fast. A multitude of foster parents, some that treated her well and many that simply fed and housed her dutifully for the money, streamed past like a slideshow. The faces of many other kids she had briefly shared her life with and then left her, flashed before her eyes.

Suddenly encircled by flames, she stood on the dance floor of Pulse while people danced around ignoring her as the flames closed in. A hand reached out and she looked up into Mason’s smiling face, he called her name but the flames were too high and she was too frightened to reach out further, until she couldn’t see him anymore. She could only hear him calling her name repeatedly…Mikala, Mikala Baby…

“Mikala!” Mason yelled into her face, her eyes sprung open.

She found herself standing at the side of Mason’s bed stark naked and shaking. Mason was on his knees, holding her arms as if he were restraining her.

“How did I…?” she started to ask.

“I don’t know, I woke up and you were stand here shaking …and very much asleep,” he said. “You’re cold, climb in.”

He lifted the covers settling her into his side not trying to hold her, simply tucking the sheets between them. “You want to talk?” he asked.

“No.” She was quick to answer.

“Are you warm enough, I can get another blanket,” he asked, rising from the bed as she clamped onto his arm, yanking him back.

“Stay right here. I don’t need a blanket, just don’t leave.”

He brushed her hair back from her face and stared intently for a few seconds into her heartrending eyes, then settled back onto the bed, turning off the light.

“I’ll be right here when you wake.”

His voice sounded sad and she had to wonder if he was as confused as she was.

***

Mason woke to Mikala’s body draped over his. Her face turned into the crook of his neck, her bare breasts pushed against his chest and the warm, welcoming heat of her sex pushed against his morning arousal. He swallowed hard when his heart began to pound in his chest like a steel drum and his cock pulsed standing to immediate attention between her thighs. He didn’t dare move for fear that he would rouse her and she’d bolt from the room. He was delirious from the heat of her body, wanting nothing more than to be inside of her, feeling her wet heat as he made love to her. He held off as long as he could, before cautiously embracing his hands over the globs of her ass spreading her thighs apart.

Mikala drew in a deep breath, sighing when Mason’s finger slowly glided between her folds, her arms unfolded from her sides travelling along Mason ribcage and down his hips to grasp hold of his outer thighs between hers. She raised her hips slightly taking hold of Mason’s cock and feeding him into her wet opening. His arm wrapped cautiously over her back holding her to his chest while his hips rocked and his dick slithered in and out of her with an intentionally relaxed tempo. He was enjoying the tight warmth of her and he knew she was enjoying his deliberate pace, with each quiet breath she moaned out.