When Its Least Expected (31 page)

managed to sneak up next to him, maneuvering her body onto the neighboring cushion.
She

eased her legs onto his lap, and he rolled his eyes and pushed her away.

“Get it your freaking self!” He angled his body away, leaning his elbows into his
knees.

So much for being anti-people. “God gave you a pair of legs for a reason. Now use
them.” She stuck out her lower lip before standing to make her way to the keg.

Stupid girl…

“Well if it isn’t pretty boy Daniel waiting to cozy up on another fine, looking lady.
Man

dude, you’ve got some serious game coming out of that California ass of yours, don’t
ya?

Wonder how your
girlfriend
would feel if she saw that…”

Toby. Damn.

Was he truly up for another ass-kicking?

“You don’t know shit. If you want that filth then take her. She’s all yours.” Mason
waved

his hand towards Kylee’s re-approaching figure. She sidled right up to Mason again,
this time on his lap, not helping the situation at all.

Toby snarled, staring down at Mason with a look that said “oh man, you’re done” right

before he scooted away, his posse in tow. Mason shook his head at the dirt bag. He
was a dog in need of a seriously large muzzle.

“Who was that, baby?” Kylee cooed, rubbing her hands all over Mason’s shoulders and

chest. Mason growled as she leaned down to lick his ear. He was running on a fine
line there, a line that said
hit her
, girl or not.

“Get the hell off of me,” he warned, pushing her back, but as he did, his body, usually

balanced and poised for a guy, went off kilter, and he just barely managed to stay
upright.

Somehow in some ungodly way Kylee had managed to pull him down on top of her, in a
full on

missionary position.

Her hands grabbed at his hair, and she yanked at him, their lips inches from touching.
He

snarled, and vomit rose in his throat. She smelled like fish – nasty, wet, tuna was
more like it.

“You want me. Admit it.”

“Hell no.
Never
,” he growled. He was stronger than her. He was caught off balance, and any wrong
move could have him falling on the floor and onto her feet. That’d just draw eyes
which he didn’t want. He wanted peace, and he wanted this girl to go to hell.

But just as he attempted his much needed getaway, a soft gasp punctured his ears and

then his heart.

He lifted his eyes, his body still positioned over Kylee’s but was now too shocked
to

move as the picture before him appeared in full force. Muddy brown eyes were there
in all of their chocolate glory staring daggers into his.

His mouth snapped shut, and his heart skipped one beat, then another, and another,
as

their gazes continued to hold. He should have moved. He should have shoved Kylee to
the floor, stood up on two feet, and ran to her – Hollywood movie style, but he was
paralyzed as he stared up at Harley. Holy mother of God, she was here, and damn, she
looked edible, so deliciously enticing that his body was doing the thinking, not his
head.

Denim mini skirt with a very un-Harley white, off the shoulder sweater molded like
clay

against her perfect frame. A pair of thigh high boots covered her calves. Mason’s
body swelled with need at the site of her. Still though, he hadn’t moved off of this
tramp.

“We’ve got an audience, baby. I’d say we give her a show.”

He blinked, finally coming back to his senses. Then the little bitch took over his

vulnerable moment kissing him again.

It wasn’t long, not like he was sure she wanted, but it was enough to do the damage
he so

feared because when he finally shoved off of her and fell to the floor, Harley was
gone.

“Son of a bitch!” he roared, sitting up and rubbing both of his hands through his
hair.

He had to get to her. He had to have her in his arms. What she saw, it was all wrong.
He

wanted
her
– all of
her
, not that skank, but as he turned the corner to follow her out of the room, he was
met head on, or should he say
legs
on, with the wheel chair of her brother. His hands went to his side. His entire body
stiffened at David’s look. It was beyond hateful. Murderous.

Mason cringed at the power behind his suddenly blackened eyes. The dude was out for

blood. Mason struggled to get the apologetic excuse out of his mouth, but what was
the point?

He deserved his hatred. He’d gone and screwed shit up again.

“You stupid son of a bitch,” David rammed him hard with the wheels of his chair,

knocking him over onto the floor. David reached over and grabbed the collar of his
shirt, pulling him level with his face only to sock him right in the eye.

Mason didn’t cry out in pain. He took his punishment in silence. His back arched,
and he

crumbled to his knees, but still he didn’t fight back. He deserved this, and why fight
something you deserved? Holy shit! Who knew a dude with only one leg and in a wheel
chair could hit so freaking hard!

He found his neck somehow positioned between David’s one knees and his chair. Mason

struggled to stay conscious as David continued to pummel him. Once with his right
hand and

another with his left. It all blurred together, and it didn’t matter. Mason had absolutely
no desire to do anything about it. He’d take his punishment, and then he’d make things
right with Harley.

“I should kill you,” David spat, his face inches from Mason. The room was quiet, or
was

that deafness creeping in? He didn’t know.

Minutes later, he found himself face down on the floor. His body unmoving that is
until

someone stuck a foot into his ribs. One foot, two feet. Over and over until he felt
his ribs crack.

That time a cry might have left his mouth, but that’s all he’d allow. His vision was
so blurry that he couldn’t see who his new torturer was until his menacing face hovered
low to the ground. His head rocked back and forth in a no. His breath smelled of smoke.

It was Toby.

“Paybacks a bitch, huh dude? She’s all mine now,” he added another kick. “Freak.”

Mason pushed over onto his knees again, arching his back as his head and elbows went
level

with the floor. He was readying to get up to try and defend himself from
this
moron, but Toby’s boot collided with his stomach again, taking his last bit of strength
with him.

He was done for.

“Oh my god, stop! Leave him alone, you asshole!” Maisy’s voice echoed off in the

distance. Her hysterical cries roared. The emotion in his throat swelled. She shouldn’t
have gotten involved.

She grabbed him by the arms, pulling his head into her lap. With whispered words of

comfort, she brushed his matted, bloody hair from his face. “Shh… Mason, you're going
to be okay. Someone, please … call 911 …”

“No,” he pulled at her forearm. She couldn’t call the police. David would get in trouble.

That would kill Harley. He couldn’t hurt her anymore.

“Where … is she?” he whispered painfully through his bloody, gritted teeth. She pushed

him up into a sitting position, and he hissed.

“Who, Mase? Harley?” He nodded once, pain radiated up his neck and into his head.

“She left. She and that brute barbarian twin brother of hers.” He swayed as they stood.
How he stood at all was a miracle.

Maisy’s arm locked around his waist. He didn’t want to crush her, but he needed her.
He

had to stand up. He had to go to Harley. “They left, Mase! Now we need to get you
to a hospital or something!”

“No. No hospital. I need … to see her. Please, take me to her,” Mason pleaded, begged.

Maisy had to understand him. He was desperate.

“Mason, no. Not tonight, okay? You probably have a concussion and cracked ribs! Just

go home, rest, and I’ll take you to her tomor –”

“Tonight.” She shook her head, but she didn’t argue with him anymore.

She frowned as they stepped outside onto the porch. He leaned back against the siding,

welcoming the coolness against his battered body. She reached up to finger on a spot
above his eye, and he winced, pulling away.

“Please, mouse. You don’t understand. I can’t lose her.” He wiped his mouth with his

sleeve. Maisy sighed.

She pulled him down onto a bench, and he winced, wrapping a hand around his stomach

and ribs. “Don’t. Move. Just let me grab Kylee, and then we can leave, alright?” Mason

narrowed his eyes. The rage was building in his chest at the mention of that girl’s
name. This was all her fault.

“Screw Kylee! This is all happened because of her!” Maisy frowned down at him but

didn’t respond as she turned to make her way into the house.

His body sat ramrod straight as he tried to obey his sister, but his mind was racing.
His

heart was demanding that he run. If Harley didn’t want to see him or be with him then
he’d have nothing left here. He shook her head. He couldn’t think like that. He had
to try and fix this.

“Well, I can see that
this
part of you hasn’t changed. That’s for sure. Give me the keys, Maisy. I’ll pull the
car up, and we’ll take him home,” Kylee all but cackled as she thumped down the porch.
Not a single bit of guilt or emotion other than evil satisfaction appeared on her
face.

“Man, she is a bitch, isn’t she?”

“Always has been mouse. You just didn’t see it until now,” Mason grunted, pulling
his

aching body into a standing position.

“Hell, Mase, I’m sorry I ever brought her here. Had I known she was going to act all

slutty with you, then I’d have never let her come.”

He scoffed, leaning his hands against the railing on the porch. “Well, at one point,
Maisy, I didn’t mind that ‘slutty’ version of Kylee.” She narrowed her eyes accusingly
at Mason as he stared back at her. He cringed, but it was time he finally admitted
the truth.

“Close the mouth, mouse,” he sighed and winced at the same time. “You’re gonna let
the

bugs in.”

“No, Mase, you didn’t…”

“Sure did.”

“You slept with that slut? I can’t believe you fell for that trampy routine. She’s
nasty!”

Maisy visibly shivered, her lips curled in disgust.

“Hell, she’s
your
best friend, and you feel that way about her?” Mason laughed, but regretted it when
his ribs began to pulsate hard in his stomach.

“Well, time changes everything, big brother. I learned that one from you.” Maisy grabbed

his elbow, guiding him down the porch steps.

Every single step was an agonizing feat, and he bit his lips to keep the moans from
falling out. If his sister actually knew how messed up he felt, then she’d never let
him go find Harley.

Pain medication, that’s exactly what he needed. Too bad he’d need to take an entire
bottle and then some to ease the agony settling in his heart.

* * *

going? It was as if she was watching herself from the outside in.

What in the hell had just happened?

She hadn’t cried once. In fact the empty feeling inside her body was welcomed. That

way, she didn’t have to actually feel the pain that demanded to be heard in her chest.

The sound of her brother and Abigail arguing in the front seat slowly brought her
back to

reality, but she struggled with blinking and breathing, struggling to upkeep with
her body’s simple needs.

“Harley honey, what do you want to do? You know Mason is going to try and come over

to your house. He’s already called your cell at least fifteen times!” Harley nodded,
not even sure why.

David’s reflection in the lighted mirror was that of pain and guilt, something to
which she could always relate, but she didn’t look at him long. She didn’t want to
see his sad eyes or his grimacing face because it all boiled down to one word – pity.
She didn’t deserve pity. She

deserved a swift kick in the ass for not seeing this coming.

She didn’t deserve to be as happy as she was anyways, especially when her brother
never

would be.

Then another almost humorous thought hit her. Who knew that her brother’s first time

out to a party after months of social separation would end this way?

“You didn’t kill him, did you, David?” She finally spoke the words she’d been

dying to ask since they left. The last picture she had was when she went back and
found Mason’s head shoved under her brother’s knees. Yeah, she couldn’t think about
that now.

What was done was done.

He blanched, his eyes widening. Shock registered on his face, replacing moments later

with anger. “No, you stupid girl, I didn’t kill him. Jeez.”

“But he did beat the ever living crap out of him,” Abigail butted in like a proud
mama

bear. Harley rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything as she went back to window gaze
at the star-filled night sky.

“So, what do you want to do, Har? Go home? Go back to the party? What’s up?” Harley

thought about it for a second, scratching her head. What did a normal girl do when
she caught her boyfriend making out with a skanky girl?

Get drunk, that’s what.

“Well it’s only eleven, and David and I don’t have to be home for at least another
three

hours. I’d say we head back to the party. I need a drink.”

Her eyes drifted curiously back towards her brother, steeling herself for his reaction.
She clenched her palms against her lap wishing that he would, for once, let her be.

“No, Har, you’re not going there again.” The words hung in the air, hitting Harley
like a

ton of bricks. He was obviously thinking about the last time she drank. How in the
hell could she be so insensitive? Her emotions slipped up, and tears finally threatened
to fall.