Damon pinched the thighs of his charcoal gray dress pants and lifted them an inch before he sat on Mason’s bed. His eyes were lightened to the silver of his dragon, and his pupils dilated in that eerie way that reminded Mason of a snake. Apparently Mason’s animal had the dragon in Damon riled up, which was one hell of a dangerous game to play.
“Clara has told me something unsettling.”
“That the new chef sucks? Because he does, and he’s an asshole.”
“You’ve never had a single complaint about my staff before, nor have you had a problem getting along with anyone. Clara says you have a ghost problem.”
Mason stopped his pacing and leveled Damon with a calculating look. Damon’s mate was a clairvoyant. Or maybe a psychic or a seer, but she could definitely see ghosts. She’d seen all of Damon’s phantoms the second she’d set foot in his mansion a couple years ago.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Young, dark hair, dark eyes, beautiful. She follows you around but only late at night when you’re getting ready for bed and are about to sleep. Clara says she sees her clear as day, and while my mate doesn’t know your whole story, I do. And I would be willing to bet Esmerelda is part of the reason you are struggling now. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Mason swallowed hard and whispered, “She was beautiful.”
“She also died ten years ago.”
“Yeah, and how long before you moved on from your first mate? Huh? How long until you moved on from Feyadine?”
“It was different for me.”
“Why?”
“It just was.”
“Tell me why you were allowed to mourn your mate like you wanted, and I’m not!”
“Because I had all the time in the world to mourn her. Centuries if I wanted them. You have one short life, Mason. Ten years is enough. Maybe it was too much.” Damon gripped the edge of the mattress and leaned forward, eyes softening to a medium gray. “You aren’t supposed to live your whole life alone. Esmerelda wouldn’t have wanted that. If she’s here now, it’s because you made her spirit restless. You conjured her by hanging on too damn tight. Let. Her. Go.” Damon stood to leave, but when he reached the door, he turned. “I want you out of this house.”
“Are you firing me?”
“No, old friend. I’m setting you free. You will be Beck’s driver. You will move into your old trailer at the Boarland Mobile Park, and I’ll pay you the same salary I do now. You’re using this house as a crutch. This job as a crutch. Me…as a crutch.”
“That’s not true. I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing. Surely, you understand you weren’t ever just my employee. I didn’t take you from your asshole people because I pitied you. I took you because you needed a friend, and I needed that, too.”
“It’s not as simple as just moving back there, Damon.”
“Do you know what happens to a tree that never succeeds in putting down roots?”
It dies. Was Mason dying inside? Hell, it sure felt like it. He’d figured out how to survive, but living was something that had always stayed just out of reach. He’d been closest to it when he’d spent a season logging with the Boarlanders.
But…
Mason had left for a reason. He’d been dreaming of Esmerelda, and he didn’t want Harrison and his crew to feel the effects of his downward spiral. The Boarlander alpha already had enough on his plate with Clinton and trying to bring his crew out of a deep, dark hole. They had their own problems to overcome, new mates, and intricate new relationships that only worked if one of the crew wasn’t dragging them all to Hell.
Mason stared out his window at the wilderness, shaking his head over and over in denial of what Damon was doing. He was pushing him to take his baggage and his damned ghost to a trailer park of misfits on the cusp of becoming great. He was a poisoned arrow Damon was launching at the heart of a beast, and damn it all, Mason didn’t want to hurt them.
Beck was going to see him. They all would. They would see all the ugliness he’d been hiding because he was incapable of keeping it in the shadows anymore. For years he’d been stoic, easy-going, dependable Mason. That was the character he’d played, but that side of him was unreachable now. He didn’t have control over anything anymore.
For reasons he couldn’t understand, he revolted against the thought of Beck watching him break, but maybe Damon was right. Maybe it was time to throw away the crutches and make an honest effort for something more than the half-life he’d settled for.
Mason scrubbed his hands down his face as he looked around his room—the one that had never felt like home. “When do you want me out?”
“Now.” Damon’s lips thinned into a straight, somber line. “I want you to start living now.”
Chapter Six
“Hello?”
Beck stopped fiddling with the sheets on the bed of 1010. “Robbie?”
“Obviously. You’re the one calling me.”
“Yeah, sorry.” God it was still so weird to talk to him. They’d cared for each other once. A long time ago. And now co-parenting would force them to always be in each other’s lives. She had to keep things cordial. “I’ve called a few times—”
“A few dozen times.”
She cleared her throat and counted to three so she wouldn’t remind him in a scream that he was supposed to let her talk to her son. “I’ve been calling because I wanted to see how it was going and talk to Ryder. I miss him a lot.” So much more than she was admitting out loud, but right now, just the idea of getting to finally talk to him and hear his squeaky little voice had her heart ripping apart.
“It’s my month. I get one a year, so the least you can do is let me enjoy it without you breathing down my neck.”
“Yes, I totally understand that, and I’m glad you are stepping up—”
“Stepping up?” he said in that deep, familiar timbre of his. “I’ve always provided for him, have I not?”
“Well…no. You’ve only made one child support payment, and it was thirteen dollars and a Snappy Freeze Yogurt coupon. Anyway, as I was saying, I’m really glad you asked for the month and are putting an effort into spending time with him. That’s what I want. For you to have a relationship with our son because he loves you and deserves to have you in his life. But you know how when I have him and you decide to call, if I’m able, I always let you talk to Ryder? I guess I thought it would be more like that. Where I wasn’t just cut out of his life for the entire time you have him.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t talk to him right now. I’m working.”
“Wait, working? You said you were going to take time off. Where are you?”
“None of your damned business, Beck. I’m working a few more days at this job, and then I’ll go pick him up from my parents. He probably hasn’t even noticed I’m gone. This is how we’ve always done it.”
Yeah, with him being gone. “Why did you ask for him if you aren’t willing to spend time with him, Robbie? I don’t understand. Is it to hurt me?”
“Goddammit woman, not everything is about you.”
“I’m not trying to make it seem like that. I’m really not. I just don’t understand why we went through all of that mediation if you aren’t even taking time off to be with him. And don’t tell me it’s to spend more time with your parents. I love them. They are like a second set of parents to me, and I let Ryder see them whenever they ask. I just don’t understand why I’m spending an entire month away from our son when you aren’t with him.” Rage was bringing her blood to a slow boil, and she needed to end this call, quick. “No, you know, it’s fine. I’m sure he’s having a great summer with your parents.”
“He is. He’s having a great fuckin’ time. I just talked to him two days ago, and they were taking him to the zoo.”
Two days ago. Two days ago? It was supposed to be Robbie taking his son to the zoo! Not “checking in” with him every few days via phone. He’d done that shit Ryder’s entire life, and her disappointment that he hadn’t changed was infinite.
“Hey,” Robbie murmured in a softer tone. That was his go-to voice when he wanted favors. Cuss at her, but then go smooth and ask for some inconvenience of her. “Since I have you on the phone, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” she ground out, debating hanging up now and blaming a bad connection.
“I’m gonna be in Saratoga on Wednesday. I know you’re stayin’ close to there, so I was wondering if you’d like to meet up. To talk. About Ryder.”
Well, that was new. Robbie usually did his best not to see her at all. She’d even been dropping Ryder off with Robbie’s parents when he wanted him on the occasional day or weekend, just so her ex could avoid her. He wasn’t the best, or most mature, co-parenter. “What about Ryder? Why can’t we just talk on the phone about it?”
“Because it’s important, and I have paperwork.”
“Robbie, I swear to God if you’re taking me to court for primary custody—”