“Mason did,” Logan finished.
“This one?” The cop pointed at Mason with his pen. He looked almost bored.
“Yeah. My brother.”
The cop stopped, his eyes narrowing. “You guys are brothers?”
Who was this guy?
Mason was still so stiff. “I’m Mason Kade. That’s my brother, Logan.”
The cop cocked his head to the side, his eyes locked on Mason. “You’re that football star, aren’t you?”
Mason swallowed. “So?”
The cop pointed the pen back to where Adam had been laying. “Was he an avid fan or something? Why would you think he had a gun on him?”
“Because things have been shit between him and me lately.” Mason’s jaw clenched. I could feel his anger stirring.
My hand covered his leg, and I spoke, explaining what all happened over the summer, except the last visit to Adam’s cabin on the ocean.
The cop didn’t say a word once I finished. He kept staring between all of us, but lingering the longest on Mason. A minute passed. I felt Mason growing more and more tense next to me.
Then the cop said, “You have enough history to get a protection order. I don’t think you’d have any problem, and it sounds like you need it.”
The questioning took on a different feel after that. The cop’s supervisor came, along with Mason’s head coach. Coach Broozer pulled up in a car after that, and Taylor went running into his arms. The cop noticed that too, frowning.
“My girlfriend,” Logan said. “His daughter.”
The cop snorted. “Nice to be so connected.” He turned back to Mason. “You got some folks waiting for you at the hospital. You all need to go get checked out.”
Logan stood from the ambulance. “Shouldn’t that have happened before the questioning?”
The cop shrugged, smiling slightly. “You’d think, right?” He held up his notepad. “I got enough. Thank you all and stay safe.” He stepped past his supervisor, who came over to shake Mason’s hand. The first cop went over to talk to the two coaches, who then called Mason over to join them.
Taylor came to see me, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She kept glancing over her shoulder to her dad. “We’re going to go to the house. Do you mind, Logan?”
He shook his head, pulling her in for a hug. “Not at all. I’m sure this brought up flashbacks.”
She shuddered in his arms, closing her eyes as he kissed her forehead.
He promised to go to her house later. Taylor nodded, almost like she was relieved. She gave him one last kiss, hugged me, and started for her dad’s car.
Seeing her, Broozer clapped Mason on the shoulder and departed as well. The two drove off together.
I turned to Logan. “You okay?”
That’s when I saw the truth.
He blew out a breath, running a tired hand over his face. I saw the worry lines around his eyes and mouth. I saw the fear in his eyes. I saw how he’d been keeping himself together until Taylor left.
“Oh, Logan.” I pulled him in for a hug.
He clasped on to me, pressing his forehead down on my shoulder. “Holy fuck, Sam. I couldn’t lose you guys.” He was shaking, just a slight tremor. “Holy fuck.” He tightened his hold.
I looked over his shoulder to Mason. A frown marred his face, but he didn’t come over.
This was . . .
I was comforting my stepbrother because he thought his family could’ve been shot.
That wasn’t supposed to be my life. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.
If a gun was involved, it was supposed to be a random act of violence. We were supposed to be the victims. We weren’t supposed to be part of the reason.
We weren’t supposed to be the bad guys.
I heard Adam. I knew why he was here.
When Logan saw Adam’s gun, he retreated as if it had burned him. The sight of it shook him. It shook all of us, because the truth was Adam had brought a gun.
But it wasn’t to shoot us.
At least that’s what Adam said when he became conscious. The cops questioned him as he was placed on the paramedic’s gurney. They kept questioning him until the ambulance doors shut, and then they were told to continue their questions at the hospital.
Only the officers’ supervisor was still here. He didn’t seem to care about the incident. He was all smiles now, laughing with Mason’s head coach. And I knew why Mason remained over there with them.
He had to put on a show.
He had to make the cop happy so he wouldn’t investigate further. His head coach was schmoozing him too.
It hit me then. No matter what happened, they did not want to lose Mason as a player.
Mason was going to be fine . . .
As a football player, he was going to be fine.
That’s what we’d been worrying about this whole time—his career, his future in the NFL.
We were so stupid.
We never worried about his life, if he would remain breathing, if he’d be buried six feet underground.
I started shaking all over again.
Logan lifted his head. “Sam? You okay?”
God.
His soft voice helped the unraveling.
My tears were falling.
I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop trembling.
We’d never considered that Mason could die.
I could’ve died.
If Logan had gotten here five minutes earlier, he could’ve died too.
Taylor!
She would’ve endured her second shooting incident.
This was insane.
This was reckless.
This was wrong.
This was us.
I shook my head, and once I started I couldn’t stop. I pulled away from Logan.
Mason came walking toward me. “Sam?”
I put my hand out to stop him, but even my hand wasn’t steady anymore.
I couldn’t do this.
Someone was going to die.
“Stop.” I whimpered. I wished it had come out strong, but I didn’t have it in me.
I couldn’t . . .
“Sam, we’re fine. I’m fine.”
“Now.”
He stilled. “What?”
“You’re fine now.”
What about next time?
There was going to be a next time. This wasn’t because of Adam. This was because of what we’d done to him. What Mason had done. What Logan had done. What I had done. None of us were innocent. I remembered the cop’s words in my head and started laughing. The sound slapped against my ears, an edge of hysteria attached to it, but I kept laughing.
We didn’t need a restraining order from Adam. He needed one from us.
“Sam.” Mason lowered his voice.
I closed my eyes, pausing. In his soft and tender way, he could say anything, and I felt loved by him. I felt protected by him. It made me believe nothing would ever happen to us.
I was wrong, so goddamn wrong.
Adam had brought a fucking gun to this parking lot, where my fiancé was. Adam told the cops it wasn’t his. It was his dad’s, and he was supposed to put it in a bank safe. He wasn’t going to use it or anything. He came to bring the letter. He figured it was best to ask Mason to give to me, and I would give it to Becky. He didn’t want to approach me without going through Mason first. He was trying to be respectful.
That was the ultimate kicker.
Adam brought the letter to Mason because he was trying to put an end to this war. He was doing the right thing.
Right? Was he? Or was that the lie he’d made up in the moment?
Did that even matter?
Regardless, we weren’t doing the right thing. We still weren’t. They were saying Adam was out to get Mason. But he’d looked broken.
That’s the reason he came. The letter was the excuse. He was admitting defeat.
Mason won.
We won.
No one won.
We were the bad guys. And it was never going to stop.
Anyone who went after us, Mason and Logan would retaliate. It was their way. They destroyed their opponents, but this time Mason could’ve gotten destroyed instead.
He was going to jump in front of the gun for me.
Maybe I should’ve swooned at that, but this wasn’t a random act.
It never should’ve happened. Mason never should’ve needed to make that decision—his life for mine.