Page 32 of Piston

Carlie keeps glancing nervously at the closed door. "You think we should..."

I shake my head. "Best not to get in the middle. Mason can handle himself."

Something shatters in the other room, making us both jump. Carlie's eyes widen in alarm.

"I'm sure it's fine," I assure her, even as unease prickles under my skin.

The argument reaches a crescendo, then abruptly cuts off. I hold my breath, straining to hear something, anything.

Long moments tick by in suffocating stillness. Carlie grips the counter, knuckles white. My heart hammers against my ribs.

Then the bedroom door flies open, bouncing off the wall. Mason storms out, face like thunder.

"We're leaving," he growls at Carlie. His gaze cuts to me. "You should too. He ain't worth this."

With that, he's gone, leaving a shell-shocked Carlie in his wake. She looks at me helplessly.

I squeeze her arm. "Go. I'll be okay."

She hesitates, then nods. "Call me later?"

"Promise." I walk her to the door, feeling like I'm in a daze.

As it closes behind her, I lean my forehead against the wood, eyes squeezed shut. Mason's words echo in my head.

He's right. I know he is. But walking away feels like admitting defeat. Like I'm abandoning Piston when he needs me most.

Even if he refuses to admit it.

I take a shuddering breath, pulling myself together. I can't keep doing this. It's tearing me apart, piece by piece.

I'm stuffing clothes into my duffel bag when I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me. I freeze, heart pounding. Slowly, I turn around.

Piston leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest. His eyes narrow as he takes in the scene before him.

"Going somewhere?" His voice is low, dangerous.

I straighten my spine, meeting his gaze head-on. "I was, yeah."

"Without saying goodbye?" There's an accusatory edge to his words, but beneath it, I catch a flicker of vulnerability.

I scoff, zipping up my bag with more force than necessary. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I owed you anything after the way you've treated me this past week."

Piston has the decency to look slightly abashed, but he quickly covers it with a smirk. "Aw, come on, Jenny. You know I didn't mean it."

"Do I?" I snap, anger bubbling up inside me. "Because from where I'm standing, it sure as hell seemed like you meant every word."

He pushes off the doorframe, taking a step towards me. I instinctively take a step back, my legs bumping against the bed.

"Look, I know I've been a dick," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "But I'm trying here, okay?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "Trying? Is that what you call ignoring me and pushing me away?"

Piston sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I'm not good at this, Jenny. At letting people in."

"So, what? You thought it'd be easier to just shut me out completely?" I shake my head, disappointment and hurt warring within me.

"No, I..." He trails off, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. "I thought I was protecting you."

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