Page 38 of Christmas With The Broken Mountain Man
"Not here, he doesn't," Riley says firmly, leading me toward Jax's truck. "This is Whisper Vale. We take care of our own."
"I'm not?—"
"You are," she cuts me off. "The moment Mason fell for you, you became part of this community. That's how it works here."
Her certainty momentarily silences my protests. As Jax's truck pulls away from the school, I crane my neck, trying to see through the windows, desperate for a glimpse of Mason. But all I can see are the Christmas lights blurring through my tears.
The drive to Mason's cabin passes in tense silence. I sit rigid in the backseat, phone clutched in my hand, waiting for a call or text that doesn't come. By the time we arrive, I'm vibrating with anxiety.
"I'll wait out front," Jax says as Riley walks me to the door. "Mason will be here soon."
"You don't know that," I say, voice tight with fear. "You don't know Greg."
Riley squeezes my hand. "Try to breathe. Panicking won't help."
She stays with me, making tea neither of us drinks, attempting light conversation I can't focus on. An hour passes, then two. No word from Mason or Tom. My calls go straight to voicemail.
"Something's wrong," I say for the tenth time, pacing the living room. "He should have been here by now."
"Mason knows how to handle himself," Riley repeats, though I can tell she's growing concerned too. She checks her phone again. "Jax hasn't heard anything either."
I sink onto the couch, trembling with fear and guilt. If anything happens to Mason because of me, because of my problems...
"This is all my fault," I whisper, tears finally spilling over. "I never should have come here, never should have involved him in my mess."
"Hey." Riley sits beside me, taking my hand. "None of this is your fault. The only person to blame is your ex."
"You don't understand. Greg is obsessive. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. And now Mason's in his path." I wipe at my tears angrily. "I should have kept running."
"And what kind of life would that be?" Riley's voice is gentle but firm. "Always looking over your shoulder, never forming connections, never having a home?"
"Better than getting someone I love hurt." The words escape before I can stop them, the admission of love hanging in the air between us.
Riley's expression softens. "You love him."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yes. God help me, I do." I drop my head into my hands. "A week ago, he was a stranger. How is this possible?"
"Some connections don't follow normal timelines," Riley says again, echoing our conversation from the bathroom. "When it's right, it's right—regardless of how long you've known each other."
I want to believe her. Want to believe in the possibility of a future with Mason, a life beyond fear and running. But as the clock ticks past midnight with still no word, doubt and terror gnaw at me.
The sudden sound of tires on gravel has us both jumping to our feet. Riley pulls back the curtain. "It's Tom's patrol car."
I rush to the door, flinging it open as Mason emerges from the passenger side. He looks exhausted but unharmed, his expression clearing when he sees me on the porch.
"Thank God," I breathe, running to him without regard for the cold or my bare feet on the icy ground. He catches me against his chest, arms wrapping tightly around me.
"I told you I'd be right behind you," he murmurs into my hair.
"Three hours later!" I pull back to examine him for injuries. "What happened? Where were you? I was terrified."
"I'm sorry." He presses his forehead to mine. "My phone died, and things took longer than expected."
"What things?" I search his face. "Did you see him? Did he hurt you?"
"Let's go inside," he says, nodding to Tom who remains in the car. "I'll explain everything."
Back in the warmth of the cabin, Jax and Riley make discreet exits after confirming Mason is okay, promising to check in tomorrow. Once we're alone, Mason pulls me onto the couch beside him, keeping my hand firmly in his.
