Page 74 of Word to the Wise

Reed

Mason holds my handas we make our way up the path that leads to the Twisted Kings clubhouse in Las Vegas.

It’s comforting having Mason at my side. Especially after I’ve been distant for the last twenty-four hours.

I barely slept last night, and the moment I tried, Carter’s face filled my nightmares. The way Carter grabbed me in the alley resurrected my trauma. It was like no time had passed—like I hadn’t changed. And that scared me more than anything. The possibility that he could be right.

I’ve been trying to move on, but the moment we were face-to-face, I became that same girl who spent six years fearing him. Who wanted nothing more than to ease his anger so I could come out the other side.

Once again, I was weak. And what’s worse, Mason saw that side of me.

He hasn’t brought up the run-in with Carter, but I know he senses the distance I’m placing between us because of it. I slept in my own bed last night because I didn’t know how to face him. And even if I left my door open, I was a coward.

Mason sets me free, and still, I hand the chains to my ex and let him hold me down like these past couple of months have meant nothing.

Waking up, I waited for Mason to resent me for hiding away in my own bed. But of course, he didn’t, and I’m thankful he’s still trying.

Neither of us knows what will come of this, but when he took my hand to help me out of the car and didn’t immediately let it go, that felt like a good first step. He holds me at his side like I belong there, no matter how much I push him away.

I’m terrified of what we’re becoming, but I can’t fight it. Looking up at him, the sun lights the desert sky above. And when he smiles, it brightens even more.

He says he’ll carry the weight with me, but how long until it’s too much for either of us to bear?

“A lot on your mind today, huh, bite-size?” He glances down, knocking me playfully on the shoulder. “You’re too quiet.”

“I’m quiet sometimes.”

“Only when you’re thinking about something.”

How does he know that?

Mason reads me like he’s been memorizing everything about me.

The moment my stomach rumbles, he feeds me. The moment I’m quiet, he wants to know what’s wrong.

Maybe he’s a masochist because I’m no good for him.

“You know everything, huh? Says the guy wearing a hoodie at the compound?” I change the subject, flicking it with my free hand.

Vegas is even warmer than LA, but it’s still cool enough to need a light sweater this time of year.

“What’s wrong with it?” Mason looks down at the Sleep Token logo on the front. “You’ve seen this one before.”

“It’s funny, that’s all.” I wave my arm out. “Here we are at the original Twisted Kings clubhouse, and you’re wearing a hoodie and sneakers. Very brave of you.”

He tilts his head back and laughs, drawing out the veins in his neck. “Guess someone forgot to give me theleather and boots only in these partsmemo.”

“Guess so.” And I love it.

I might even love him—in whatever way I’m capable of at this point.

All I know is that I can’t define what it is that plants inside me when my gaze meets his. The way I want to protect him as much as he wants to protect me. And how easy it is to just exist around him.

Mason makes the world feel lighter. And holding his hand as we approach the clubhouse, he fits in the spot beside me.

The biker’s daughter and the billionaire trust fund kid.

Both of us are breaking free of our roots and living on our own terms. Our pasts couldn’t be more opposite, but it somehow makes sense.

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