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Perv(71)

By:Becca Jameson


“Good. Please try to talk some sense into her,” Patrick finally added. “I’m glad to see you’re smart enough to realize you aren’t the man for my daughter. She deserves more. Someone of a higher social standing.”

Mason nodded. “Yeah, she deserves better. I’ll see that she gets it.” His words were minced. He let go of the doorframe, turned, and walked out, not stopping until he’d exited the house.

He glanced down the long drive and spotted Jenna. It wasn’t as though she were going to escape quickly. He’d driven her there, and the keys were in his pocket.

Hell, the circular drive alone was so long she couldn’t get off the property for several minutes.

He didn’t have to chase her, though. She was leaning against the car door, her head tipped to the ground. At least she had faith he would follow her.

He approached on a sigh and pulled her against his chest. When she didn’t respond to him, not lifting her arms around him, he set her aside and opened the door.

She climbed into the car without a word. Unshed tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. She was strong. He’d give her that.

Considering everything he’d just learned, he thought she was amazing.





Chapter Eighteen


They drove back to his place in silence. She didn’t argue for him to take her home. They needed to talk. She recognized that. When they entered, she collapsed on the couch and leaned her head back, her eyes closed.

Mason reached for the phone and ordered a pizza.

She wasn’t hungry, but they’d run out without eating a bite. Mason had to be starving.

He unbuttoned the top few buttons on his shirt as he sat next to her. “I’m sorry, especially if I made things worse or made you uncomfortable. Can we talk about this?”

She rolled her eyes.

Mason chuckled. “Well, I only said that to be polite. You can’t actually expect me to let it go.” He took one of her limp hands in his own and rubbed her palm with his thumb. “Tell me the whole story from the beginning. I’ll listen. I should have listened to you the other day. Obviously you were right. There’s way more going on with your family than I understand.”

A few moments passed before she lifted her head and opened her eyes. “I’m sorry I brought you there. I knew that would happen, and I didn’t warn you properly. Although to be fair, you weren’t really interested in hearing what I had to say. You were only worried about your fantasy of what family should be like. Do you believe me now?”

She lifted a hand when Mason tried to interject. “Don’t. I understand what you’ve been through and I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make my situation any less important.”

Mason nodded.

“My parents have manipulated me my entire life to fit their mold.” She paused. “It’s so much more than that.” She swallowed. “Does the name Mathews mean anything to you?”

“Sure. It’s your last name. So?”

“Ever picked up medication from Mathews drug store?”

“Of course, but— Wait. Are you telling me your family owns Mathews?”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“But…”

“Yeah, there isn’t much to add to that is there?” She gave him a half smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It isn’t something I go around bragging about. I’m not proud of it. The cost for owning that surname is high. My parents haven’t worked a day in their lives. They pay other people to do everything for them, and they expect me and my sister to do the same and follow in the family footsteps, carrying on their life of leisure.

“I hated it my entire life. I want to do something. They have no pride. When I wanted to go to college, they humored me and decided it would make me look polished. Ha.” She tugged her hand free. “From the moment I graduated, I knew I was going to get out. It took me a few years, and when I declared I was going to move out and open a flower shop, they went ballistic. No daughter of theirs was going to work for a living and demean the family name.”

“But you did.” He furrowed his brow.

“Yes, and they have lied about where I’ve been for two years. None of their friends has any idea I’ve been working and out on my own.”

“They aren’t proud of your accomplishments?”

Jenna laughed sardonically. “My accomplishments? They have no idea what I’ve done. They could care less as long as no one finds out their daughter has been working for a living.”

“God, baby. I’m so sorry. That’s a horrible way to live.”

“My parents want only one thing. Conformity. If they don’t get it, they won’t ever be happy. It’s not something you can fix. It’s not something anyone can fix. Not with words.”