Fallen Crest Forever

  We’d never considered that Mason could die.

  I could’ve died.

  If Logan had gotten here five minutes earlier, he could’ve died too.

  Taylor!

  She would’ve endured her second shooting incident.

  This was insane.

  This was reckless.

  This was wrong.

  This was us.

  I shook my head, and once I started I couldn’t stop. I pulled away from Logan.

  Mason came walking toward me. “Sam?”

  I put my hand out to stop him, but even my hand wasn’t steady anymore.

  I couldn’t do this.

  Someone was going to die.

  “Stop.” I whimpered. I wished it had come out strong, but I didn’t have it in me.

  I couldn’t . . .

  “Sam, we’re fine. I’m fine.”

  “Now.”

  He stilled. “What?”

  “You’re fine now.”

  What about next time?

  There was going to be a next time. This wasn’t because of Adam. This was because of what we’d done to him. What Mason had done. What Logan had done. What I had done. None of us were innocent. I remembered the cop’s words in my head and started laughing. The sound slapped against my ears, an edge of hysteria attached to it, but I kept laughing.

  We didn’t need a restraining order from Adam. He needed one from us.

  “Sam.” Mason lowered his voice.

  I closed my eyes, pausing. In his soft and tender way, he could say anything, and I felt loved by him. I felt protected by him. It made me believe nothing would ever happen to us.

  I was wrong, so goddamn wrong.

  Adam had brought a fucking gun to this parking lot, where my fiancé was. Adam told the cops it wasn’t his. It was his dad’s, and he was supposed to put it in a bank safe. He wasn’t going to use it or anything. He came to bring the letter. He figured it was best to ask Mason to give to me, and I would give it to Becky. He didn’t want to approach me without going through Mason first. He was trying to be respectful.

  That was the ultimate kicker.

  Adam brought the letter to Mason because he was trying to put an end to this war. He was doing the right thing.

  Right? Was he? Or was that the lie he’d made up in the moment?

  Did that even matter?

  Regardless, we weren’t doing the right thing. We still weren’t. They were saying Adam was out to get Mason. But he’d looked broken.

  That’s the reason he came. The letter was the excuse. He was admitting defeat.

  Mason won.

  We won.

  No one won.

  We were the bad guys. And it was never going to stop.

  Anyone who went after us, Mason and Logan would retaliate. It was their way. They destroyed their opponents, but this time Mason could’ve gotten destroyed instead.

  He was going to jump in front of the gun for me.

  Maybe I should’ve swooned at that, but this wasn’t a random act.

  It never should’ve happened. Mason never should’ve needed to make that decision—his life for mine.

  I couldn’t do this anymore. It had to stop.

  I had to stop it.

  “Sam.” Mason was still saying my name. I heard the anguish in his voice, and I jerked back to reality. He was holding on to me. His hands were tight on my arms, like he was scared I was going to slip out of his hold.

  I did. I lifted my arms, disengaging and stepping backward.

  “Sam?” One word, one name, whispered in agony.

  He knew. I saw it in his eyes. He knew what I’d been thinking, because he’d been thinking the same.

  I spoke quietly. “We did this.”

  “No.”

  “We did.”

  “I did. I did this,” he said as he moved close, his forehead resting on mine. I sensed Logan nearby, but I didn’t know if he could hear us or not.

  I felt more tears on my face. “This can’t happen again.”

  “It won’t. I promise.”

  He couldn’t make that promise. My eyes searched his, and he waited, holding his breath.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  He knew.

  He closed his eyes and whispered, “Please don’t.”

  This wasn’t going to stop. Nothing was going to change. So I had to. I had to change. I had to stop it. I had to do something.

  I stepped back from him.

  “Sam?” He reached for me, but stopped. His hand closed into a fist, still hanging in the air between us.

  I needed space, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to. I moved back another step, though I couldn’t make myself turn and walk away.

  Mason saw the torment in me, and he let out a soft breath, bringing his hand back to his side. He nodded.

  He made the decision for me.

  He let me go.

  Mason had gone to stay with his mom last night, and I’d slept one last night in our bed, but I couldn’t stay any longer. Maybe no one would understand, but I had to do this. What it was, I wasn’t sure. If Mason and I were completely done, half done, a separation, a momentary break—I didn’t know, but we weren’t together. And we hadn’t talked about it yet, but that would come. I just wasn’t ready.

  The only thing I did know was that if I stayed, Mason would die. Somehow. Some way. I knew it would happen.

  Logan had gone to Taylor’s last night and told her what was going on. She made him promise to stay there, but he hadn’t. So she came to the house and slept in the bed with me, and I overheard her on the phone later. Logan had gone to his mother’s hotel too. Nate never came home. I didn’t know where he’d stayed, but I was glad Taylor had stayed with me.

  She held me as I cried, and she was the one who suggested Courtney and Grace. They had a large storage room in their apartment. They’d joked one time that it could be turned into a bedroom if they ever had a third roommate. She’d called them and asked, but then she had to go. She had studies, though I knew it had killed her to leave. I appreciated everything she’d done, and gave her an extra tight hug before she left.

  I wanted to hug her again and again, like it wasn’t her I was saying goodbye to.

  I don’t know how long I stood there after she was gone. I went back to the room at some point, and I’d been trying to pack all day.

  “Why?”

  My heart was splitting open, my chest the only thing keeping it inside me. But still, I moved around Logan in my bedroom and continued packing my stuff.

  “You know why,” I told him.

  Mason knew. I’d explained it to Logan, but he wasn’t accepting it.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at me. “This is bullshit, Sam. Bullshit.”

  I stopped and looked at him. My hands were full of shirts, and for a moment, I considered hurling them at him. I didn’t. I placed them inside the suitcase and tried again. “If Adam had shot Mason, he would be in the hospital right now.”

  Or worse.

  My voice dropped. “Something has to change.”

  “You think this is going to do it?” He flung his hand out toward the suitcase. “Fuck, Sam. We were worse before you. You made Mason softer. You know what he’s going to be like now?”

  I couldn’t . . .

  God. I couldn’t breathe.

  Everything was open and bleeding inside of me.

  I glanced down. If I’d actually seen blood seeping out on my shirt, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Stop, Logan.”

  “Stop? Are you fucking kidding? You’re leaving.” He grabbed my suitcase.

  “Don’t.”

  I tried to say that loud and strong. It wasn’t. It came out as a hoarse squeak instead. “Don’t, Logan. Please.”

  He lifted it like he was going to throw it across the room, but just tossed it back on the bed with an extra bounce.

  “What the hell are you doing?” h
e yelled. “You and Mason? He’s off drinking with Nate and Matteo right now. You’re leaving. You can’t leave!”

  This was making it worse. I was going to give up, collapse on the bed, and wait for Mason to come back and pick me up. I was two seconds from doing that, but I snapped.

  “He could’ve been shot! SHOT! He could’ve been killed.” Rage gave me power. Rage gave me the strength to say, “Something has to change. It has to. This is the only card I have. If I stay . . .” Nothing would change. “I have to go, Logan. Please understand.”

  Maybe I was wrong. I didn’t want to go. Even thinking about it, I staggered. My knees buckled, and I fell to the edge of the bed.

  But I had to. It was the only thing I could do differently. It was all I could do.

  “I don’t have to accept this, and I don’t. You’re my stepsister, so you’re stuck with me anyway. You and Mason.” Logan’s disdain was evident. His lip curled up in a sneer. “You both make me sick.”

  He swept past me.

  I should’ve felt a break in the tension. I should’ve been able to breathe easier.

  The outside door slammed shut a second later, rattling the entire house.

  I couldn’t. If anything, I felt like I was choking instead.

  But I couldn’t do this.

  That phrase was on repeat in my head. I couldn’t stay because eventually a gun was going to come for Mason, eventually someone was going to die. But I couldn’t go either. I was leaving half of me here.

  “Sam?”

  A new voice.

  I tensed, wondering who else was here to assault me, but it was Courtney. She pushed some of her strawberry blond hair behind her ear and smiled, coming toward me from the doorway. She took the shirt I had in my hand. Her touch was gentle. Everything about her was gentle.

  “I can help,” she murmured.

  More tears flowed down my face. I was numb, but I wasn’t. I was dazed. I was too aware. I could feel everything. I couldn’t feel anything.

  I was a mess.

  I just choked out, “Thank you.”

  Grace stood behind Courtney, and she stayed in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Hey, Sam.”

  Courtney shared a look with Grace before clearing her throat. “Maybe I could finish packing for you? I’m sure Taylor will bring anything I missed?”

  I couldn’t answer. That meant I had to actually leave. I had to stand and walk out. For real.

  I sat.

  “Um . . . ”

  “SAM?! SAM!”

  I froze. That voice was Heather’s. Someone had called her. She hurried down the hallway, pausing at the sight of Courtney and Grace, but rushed to me. “Oh, Sam.”

  That’s all she said. That was all she had to say.

  I’d been crying before, but I sobbed now. “Heather.” I could only gut out her name.

  “Sam.” She grabbed me in a hug, cradling my head to her chest, and she just held me, like a child. I was gone after that. Heather was there. She would take care of everything, and I just cried.

  We went to Courtney and Grace’s apartment.

  I would remember later how Heather took over. She introduced herself, found out who they were, then took one look at me and the room. She announced, “Okay. Let’s pack up her things.”

  And just like that, they did.

  Heather told me later that Channing came with her. I couldn’t move, so he’s the one who carried me out of the house and to Heather’s car. He helped carry me into the apartment too, but he left again. I didn’t know where he went, and Heather said later that Channing left to join the guys.

  She was there for me. He was there for Mason.

  The rest of that night, I cried.

  Heather held me, and I kept crying.

  I didn’t know when I would stop.

  It was dark. Heather’s even breathing beside me told me she was sleeping soundly, but something had woken me up.

  A flash!

  There it was. I looked over. My phone was flashing. I already knew who it was. I felt him inside of me, and I clicked on the screen.

  You okay? I just want to know that much.

  Sadness lined every organ in my body. I didn’t think it would ever leave. Crying. But awake. You?

  I didn’t wait long.

  A minute later, Drunk.

  It was a dagger to me. I didn’t want Mason to hurt. I didn’t want to hurt.

  Thirty seconds later. How are we going to do this?

  I took a deep breath. My hand started to tremble. What do you mean?

  His reply: We should talk. I know why, but we should still talk.

  He was right. I thumbed back, a hollow ache filled my chest, Give me a bit. I can’t talk and not break down yet.

  Can I text you? Can we still do this?

  I let the breath out. I already knew my face was wet again. I didn’t think it was going to be dry any time soon. A thousand knives were in my lungs, in my throat. I couldn’t breathe without pain. I couldn’t swallow without pain. I couldn’t move without pain.