Page 4 of Mason

The groan from the man had me darting my gaze back up to his dark, almost all black eyes. The peals of laughter coming from the elegant woman were distracting, but I didn’t care. I was waiting for the God to talk.

The nurse giggled. “Yes, well the doctor did put Miss Jennings on some really strong pain meds. They tend to have patients talking and saying things they usually wouldn’t.” Hearing the nurse say that has me wondering if I have been talking out loud this whole time.

“As much as I’d love you to be here for me, hot stuff,” I said to the God, winking. At least I hoped it was a wink. “I have to tell you there has to have been some issue of mistaken identity. I don’t know you. I’d like, well, like is such a little word when I could say love. Yes, I’d love to get to know you better.”

I loved the sound of his deep, rich belly laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, I can tell you’re going to be trouble.”

“I could have you talk to me all night long,” I thought. Or at least I think I thought it and didn’t voice it.

“If that’s what you want I’ll do it for you, sweetheart.”

“Thanks hotstuff, but I don’t even know your name.”

Wait a minute. They didn’t answer me about the identity mix up.

“Mason. Mason Silverman.” He stepped closer to the bed.

He really was handsome. “So handsome.” Just looking at him had anything I was going to say fly out of my head.

“Miss Jennings.” The nurse snapped my attention to hers for a moment before she started taking my temp and checking my pulse. I went back to staring at God, er, Mason. “You’re very lucky Mr. Silverman found you when he did. You had three broken ribs, a cut in your left leg that needed eight stitches, and not only did you have a concussion, but you have pneumonia.”

I didn’t feel anything but the little ache in my ribs. I nodded, not wanting to take my gaze off Mason who was smiling and,oh, dear Lord, was that a dimple hidden behind his beard?

I liked his beard, which was weird because I thought only men in situations like me who couldn’t afford housing or shaving had beards. I couldn’t remember ever seeing a beard and liking it. This Mason was like a unicorn. “My unicorn.”

“I just gave her an extra dose of pain meds,” the nurse said beside my bed. “She should drift off again soon.”

“Wait, I don’t wanna go to sleep. I want to stay awake and watch my unicorn. I wanna see him smile again. I can’t stay too long in here. I’m not going back again. I can’t do that again. My little box is better than going back. I can’t fight. I can hide. They won’t get me like they had this time. No, I have to help them. No. Must keep door shut and locked. No one can know.”

Mason’s eyebrows furrowed and little wrinkles formed on his forehead as his lips turned down. “You’re even pretty when you frown. You know, there’s probably a law that you can’t look like you do. It’s not fair. If I let men near me, I would let you.” My thoughts seemed all a jumble, but one thing I did know was I didn’t want Mason to leave. It was strange because I hadn’t trusted a man since my father, and I definitely hadn’t ever been this attracted to one. The way I’d been treated by men has put me off, but with Mason, I felt safe, and I had the uncontrollable urge to throw myself at him and jump his bones.

My lids became heavy, but I didn’t want to stop staring at Mason. Mmm, even his name was masculine and manly. His eyes were the darkest brown I’d ever seen, almost black, and as I gave into the weight of fog that clouded my mind and my lids dropped, Mason faded away.

MY EYES FLUTTERED, STRUGGLING TO open against the bright lights. At least there was less pain. I looked around the room and gasped when I saw someone new. This wasn’t my God. He looked similar to Mason, but it was hard to tell with his thick, scruffy beard and messy mop of raven black hair. He sat at the end of my bed on a computer, his whole focus on the screen.

“Who . . . who are you?” I mumbled. My heart beat faster and I wished I wasn’t hooked up to machines so I could run and hide. I didn’t know this person.

His head snapped up and his warm brown-eyed gaze caught mine. He had the same eyes as Mason. I saw then that he was safe. “You’re awake. Mason, didn’t think you’d be awake for a couple of hours so I promised I’d sit with you while he showered, changed, and checked on his gym and in with his coach.”

Blinking at the guy, I calmed my racing heart, now that I knew he was a family or friend of Mason. “You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

He smiled and it calmed me, not the same as Mason, but a different kind of feeling, like family, a father, or a big brother. “I’m Zeck, Mason’s brother, but don’t hold that against me.” He winked. “I’m nicer than him. Definitely more patient, too.” He shuffled the chair closer and came to sit beside me. “So, I always wanted a sister. I bet you’d be a good one.”

Opening my mouth, I went to tell him no, but then my mind just exploded, flashes of things I kept hidden behind locked doors came to the surface and right then I needed someone, anyone, to be mine, on my side. “You can’t be my brother if you’re Mason’s. I need someone just for me.”

He waved his hand like he was shooing a fly from his face. “I can be the brother just for you.” He shrugged. “Mason is closer to our other brothers, Richard and Andrew, than he is to me. So, from now on I’m yours.”

“You can’t just say that.” I fought back, shocked that he was willing to be mine, and tell me that he wasn’t as close to Mason as he was his other brothers.

“Bla. I can do what I want and I say from now on you’re my sister. No more brothers.” I giggled and he winked at me again. This time I noticed he had two dimples behind his beard. God, when was the last time I laughed? “Trust me when I say having you as a sister and no more brothers is a way better deal than I had before today.”

Warmth spread through me and I knew from that point on Zeck would be my brother. “Thank you.”

He waved his hand over his face. “Don’t mention it. You’re way cooler than my former brothers anyway, plus my mum totally loves you and I’m her favorite, too. So, I figure we stick together.”

I giggled again and closed my eyes. Safe. I loved the Silvermans.

IT HAD BEEN A WEEK since I’d found Alexa Jennings, seventeen-year-old run away from foster care, and my soulmate.

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