Fallen Crest Home Page 55

I felt nothing. The Sam I used to be would’ve felt stabbed, taking those words as a personal blow, but the Analise before would’ve delivered them with that intent. They weren’t this time. They really were just words from a wife who loved her husband and was protecting him.

Mason pulled me with him as he headed to the parking lot. Logan jumped down to follow. I knew Heather and Channing were coming as well, and for the first time ever, I felt like we’d overstepped.

Once we got outside, Channing clapped his hands together. “Remind me not to get on your bad sides and then ask you to do a speech at my wedding.” He nudged Heather with his elbow. “Whenever that’s going to be.”

I sensed a storm inside of Mason, but I knew he wouldn’t say anything until we were alone.

“James shouldn’t have asked, and he knows it,” I told them.

Mason’s hand tightened on mine. He glanced down, like he could tell I wasn’t sure about my own words.

“Yo.” Mark was jogging to catch up. Cass was with him, and behind them Logan was holding hands with Taylor. Mark held up his phone. “I got the whole thing on vide—”

Mason rotated around, grabbed his phone, and smashed it on the cement.

“Dude!”

He brought his foot down, then glared. “You think I wanted to hurt my dad?”

Mark’s eyes rounded. “I…well, yeah. That’s exactly what you did.”

“But I didn’t want to. That’s the difference. He put me in that position. He made us agree to be his groomsmen, and then he followed through to the last detail. A fucking speech by his adoring sons—that’s what he wanted. He backed us into a corner because he thought we’d play nice. I didn’t want to do any of that, but I’m not going to be fake. I’m not going to lie and put on a charade that he’ll be able to play over and over again and to delude himself. ‘I had two doting sons once. I wonder what happened to them?’” Mason shook his head. “He can’t rewrite history, and he can’t force a new future. That shit I said up there, that was me being kind. Trust me. I have a lot more I’d like to say, but I kept it in.”

“My phone, man.”

Mason kicked Mark’s phone to Logan’s foot. He bent and pocketed it.

“Sorry, man,” Logan said. “There may be other videos of it, but it’s not something we want to be a part of spreading.” He moved forward, still holding Taylor’s hand. “We might not like James, but he’s still our dad.”

The rest of us began moving, hand in hand. Mark and Cass held back a step, and then with a sigh, Mark took her hand, too. They began following us.

We had one last parking lane to cross before we got to Mason’s Escalade when a squad car stopped in front of us.

Mason pointed to his vehicle. “We were just leaving.”

Two officers got out and the one closest to us asked, “Mason Kade?”

“Yeah?”

He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and gestured for Mason to turn around. “You’re under arrest for the assault of Jared Caldron.”

“What?!” Logan lunged forward, like he wanted to rip the cuffs off of Mason. “That was self-defense.”

The officer opened the back door, reciting the Miranda rights as he guided Mason into the backseat, covering his head with his hand. He stopped once to ask if Mason understood the rights as he’d stated them, and Mason nodded.

He turned back around to us. “Not for the incident that happened a week ago. For the incident that happened a month ago.” His cold eyes landed on me. “You were there. Maybe you could fill him in? I believe it happened at your place of employment.”

I narrowed my eyes. What did he mean…then I knew. When Caldron had been about to hit me at the carnival. “Mason was defending me.” I looked at Mark. “Tell him.”

Mark lifted his hands in a helpless manner. “I didn’t see it. I wasn’t there, remember? I came after it was done.”

The cop shrugged, sounding tired, “Bring your argument down to the station.”

The car left, and Logan kicked savagely at a rock on the ground. “Fuck! Fuck!” He rounded on Mark. “You couldn’t speak up? You couldn’t say you were there?” He lifted his hands like he was going to shove Mark.

Mark’s nostrils flared. “Back off of me. I can’t lie, Logan. You want me to lie?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyway.” Channing stepped forward, getting between the two of them, his hands out. “They came to arrest Mason. They would’ve arrested him no matter what Mark said. It’s with the courts now.”

Logan was still glaring at Mark. “You have experience with that, Monroe?” His voice had an edge to it.

“Yeah.” Channing lowered his hands. “You think you’re the only guys to get arrested around here?” He seemed to force a lighter tone. “Come on, know of any good lawyers we can call?”

Logan cursed. “Yeah, my dad’s.”

The dad he and Mason had just royally pissed off.

Logan looked at me. “I know of one other lawyer in the family.”

I sighed, wanting to curse, too. “He’s not this kind of lawyer.”

“Don’t matter. He’s still a lawyer.”

“Fucking hell,” I muttered, but he was right. I didn’t have my phone or purse with me, so Logan handed me his.

A second later, it was ringing, and my biological father answered.

“This is Garrett.”

“Dad?” I felt like a little girl in that moment, but I didn’t know why. “I need your help.”

It took a few hours for my dad to drive from Cain, where he and his wife had been vacationing for the last month before heading back to Boston. When he arrived, he seemed frazzled, and after we told him everything, he seemed even more frazzled.

He shot me an irate look. “How many physical fights have there been?”

Before I could answer, he shook his head, holding up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I’ll go in and talk to Mason, but…” He turned to Logan. “Why aren’t your father’s lawyers here? Is there something I should know about Mason’s case?”

“Uh.” Logan and I glanced at each other. He tugged at his collar. “James asked us to give speeches at his wedding, and well—”

Another head shake followed. “Don’t say anything more. I got the picture.” His eyes lingered on me. “I forgot your mom got married today. How are you?”

“I’ll be better when we get Mason out of there,” I told him.

“Got it. That’s my cue.” He scanned the rest of the group as he walked inside the station.

Heather and Channing were still here, and some of Channing’s friends—Moose, Chad, and two others—had brought pizza. I was pretty sure it wasn’t coffee in their thermoses. We’d taken over a corner of the police station lot. Some sat on the back of Channing’s truck, some at a picnic table, and Channing’s friends had brought lawn chairs, too. Mark and Cass were still here, too. I thought Cass would be bitching more, but she’d been quiet.

Everyone had gone home to change clothes once they heard my dad had a three-hour drive, but Logan and I stayed. Taylor brought both of us a change of clothes. Logan had changed in his Escalade, but I was still in my dress from the wedding.

I’d change when Mason could change. That was how my mind was working at the moment. I was only focused on when he would get out.

A couple hours later, I pulled myself out of my lawn chair as Garrett exited the station. His tie flapped in the wind, and he rubbed briskly at his forehead. Logan stood next to me, holding Taylor’s hand on his other side.

“Bail?” I asked him.

“It’s Saturday, Sam. And it’s late.” He rested his hand on my shoulder briefly. “The judge won’t see him till Monday, and I won’t be able to do much until then. I did find out what they have on him. There’s a video showing this guy, and Mason comes in. He tackles him, and then the video zooms in to show him punching this guy. I have to say, this evidence is damning for Mason. That’s assault and battery, and they’ll probably bump it up to aggravated assault, too. That’s not good, any of it. What happened that day?”

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