Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest Series Book 7)(101)

I couldn’t do this anymore. It had to stop.

I had to stop it.

“Sam.” Mason was still saying my name. I heard the anguish in his voice, and I jerked back to reality. He was holding on to me. His hands were tight on my arms, like he was scared I was going to slip out of his hold.

I did. I lifted my arms, disengaging and stepping backward.

“Sam?” One word, one name, whispered in agony.

He knew. I saw it in his eyes. He knew what I’d been thinking, because he’d been thinking the same.

I spoke quietly. “We did this.”

“No.”

“We did.”

“I did. I did this,” he said as he moved close, his forehead resting on mine. I sensed Logan nearby, but I didn’t know if he could hear us or not.

I felt more tears on my face. “This can’t happen again.”

“It won’t. I promise.”

He couldn’t make that promise. My eyes searched his, and he waited, holding his breath.

“I love you,” I whispered.

He knew.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “Please don’t.”

This wasn’t going to stop. Nothing was going to change. So I had to. I had to change. I had to stop it. I had to do something.

I stepped back from him.

“Sam?” He reached for me, but stopped. His hand closed into a fist, still hanging in the air between us.

I needed space, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to. I moved back another step, though I couldn’t make myself turn and walk away.

Mason saw the torment in me, and he let out a soft breath, bringing his hand back to his side. He nodded.

He made the decision for me.

He let me go.





Mason had gone to stay with his mom last night, and I’d slept one last night in our bed, but I couldn’t stay any longer. Maybe no one would understand, but I had to do this. What it was, I wasn’t sure. If Mason and I were completely done, half done, a separation, a momentary break—I didn’t know, but we weren’t together. And we hadn’t talked about it yet, but that would come. I just wasn’t ready.

The only thing I did know was that if I stayed, Mason would die. Somehow. Some way. I knew it would happen.

Logan had gone to Taylor’s last night and told her what was going on. She made him promise to stay there, but he hadn’t. So she came to the house and slept in the bed with me, and I overheard her on the phone later. Logan had gone to his mother’s hotel too. Nate never came home. I didn’t know where he’d stayed, but I was glad Taylor had stayed with me.

She held me as I cried, and she was the one who suggested Courtney and Grace. They had a large storage room in their apartment. They’d joked one time that it could be turned into a bedroom if they ever had a third roommate. She’d called them and asked, but then she had to go. She had studies, though I knew it had killed her to leave. I appreciated everything she’d done, and gave her an extra tight hug before she left.

I wanted to hug her again and again, like it wasn’t her I was saying goodbye to.

I don’t know how long I stood there after she was gone. I went back to the room at some point, and I’d been trying to pack all day.

“Why?”

My heart was splitting open, my chest the only thing keeping it inside me. But still, I moved around Logan in my bedroom and continued packing my stuff.

“You know why,” I told him.

Mason knew. I’d explained it to Logan, but he wasn’t accepting it.

He crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at me. “This is bullshit, Sam. Bullshit.”

I stopped and looked at him. My hands were full of shirts, and for a moment, I considered hurling them at him. I didn’t. I placed them inside the suitcase and tried again. “If Adam had shot Mason, he would be in the hospital right now.”

Or worse.

My voice dropped. “Something has to change.”

“You think this is going to do it?” He flung his hand out toward the suitcase. “Fuck, Sam. We were worse before you. You made Mason softer. You know what he’s going to be like now?”

I couldn’t . . .

God. I couldn’t breathe.

Everything was open and bleeding inside of me.

I glanced down. If I’d actually seen blood seeping out on my shirt, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Stop, Logan.”

“Stop? Are you fucking kidding? You’re leaving.” He grabbed my suitcase.

“Don’t.”

I tried to say that loud and strong. It wasn’t. It came out as a hoarse squeak instead. “Don’t, Logan. Please.”

He lifted it like he was going to throw it across the room, but just tossed it back on the bed with an extra bounce.