Page 19 of Mase
The throb of the bass reverberates through the floorboards, and I head into the living room. I come to a standstill when I see a full-bodied ice sculpture of a naked man standing in the corner of the living space. A girl on her knees takes shots from what appears to be an ice dick, and I can’t help but stare dumbstruck.
I blink.
What in the ever-loving fuck?
As I take in the carnage of the room, I can’t help but wonder if I walked into the right house. What the hell is happening?
My father would never allow parties. Ever.
A hand wraps around my T-shirt and tugs me toward a hazy-eyed brunette, a very young-looking brunette, who I quickly push away like she has the plague. When she stumbles, I grab her arm to steady her, then release her just as quickly. “Do you work here?” I ask above the music, and she gapes back at me as if I’m a lunatic before spinning and throwing her arm onto another guy’s chest, who she proceeds to grind on.
Great. Nobody knows what the hell is going on. I have at least a hundred horny young adults in my house, drinking alcohol and fucking, and God only knows if some of these fuckers are underage.
The latter thought makes me sober up really quick and turns the alcohol in my bloodstream to fury.
Not on my fucking watch.
Someone is going to pay for this.
My nostrils flare when I see one of my mother’s favorite paintings tipped on its side. Sure, the thing is ugly as fuck, but that’s not the point.
Moving through the crowd, I head for Hugh’s quarters. The man is my father’s head butler who runs this house, and he would normally not allow this to happen. The kitchen is just as wild as the rest of the house, and when I turn down Hugh’s corridor, I breathe a sigh of relief from being away from the rambunctious bodies.
Before I get to the entrance of Hugh’s live-in apartment, his door flies open and the man himself steps out. “I told you to keep it contained!” he sneers in a tone I’ve never heard him use. His face falls, almost as if his mask has slipped, and he straightens. “Oh, Mason. Sir, how wonderful to see you.” Heholds his hand out for me to shake, and I don’t miss the tremble behind it.
I eye his hand, and when he realizes I’m not about to shake it, he quickly withdraws it. He’s aged a lot since the last time I saw him, but that’s what being away for decades will do, I guess. A lot has changed, clearly.
“What the hell’s happening?” I spit out.
His mouth works, but nothing comes out, aggravating me further. Then he sighs and opens his mouth again. “I’m sorry, but she’s out of control.”
My eyes bounce over his face. What the hell is he talking about? “Who?”
“Summer.”
I rear back. “Summer?”
He nods frantically. “Your stepsister.”
Confusion takes over me. “She did this?”
He continues to nod, and I want to smack the man upside his head. Who lets a young girl control him like this?
“Where the hell is she?” I bite out.
“Oh, she’s probably in her bedroom.” He tilts his head toward the corridor. “The old guest room on the third floor.”
I nod and take off in that direction, marching through the house like a man on a mission.
This party is about to be shut the fuck down, and what the hell does this kid think she’s doing opening the house up to all ages.
Fuck, she clearly needs some guidance, or a damn boarding school. Otherwise, before she reaches adulthood, she will have fucked up her entire life.
Does she not realize how dangerous it is to open the house up to strangers? Of all ages, no less? She could have been kidnapped. Abused. Oh, fuck no. My legs move quicker as I surge through the bodies of people and rush up the stairs. She’s probably cowering in a damn closet realizing her mistake, poor kid. She’s clearly acting out.
My chest heaves when I reach the third floor, then I dart right and head for what was the guest bedroom.
Throwing open the door, I burst into the room, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust in the low lighting. “Summer?”
