Aftermath Book Two Crash Series

Chapter Two

Mason

Three months earlier.

            Cracking my knuckles quickly I get back to work. Watching my fingers fly over the keyboard efficiently and accurately. Orderly. It’s about the only thing in my life that can fall into that category as of late. The thought alone has my fingers moving faster trying to keep up with my quickly spiraling thoughts.

            The rough clicking of the keys and the thumping of my heart are the only sounds in the quiet and lightly lit office. As usual, I’m the last here as I was the first this morning and in the quiet space, it’s hard to keep my mind from wandering to a certain baker. Grinding my teeth I shove the thoughts away and concentrate on the document in front of me and the endless editing. I need everything to be done perfectly and thoughts of Aria only ever bring chaos.

            Intriguing chaos.

            Tempting chaos.

            Perfectly, beautiful chaos.

            My chaos and probably my destruction too.

            My fingers stumble over the keys jumbling up the word I was in the middle of typing. Lifting my fingers from the keys I stare at the screen but don’t see it, instead, Aria’s wicked smile fills my mind's eye. See even from afar she’s chaos, disrupting my work and time.  

            The corner of my lips tugs up as I lean back. My office chair is top of the line and doesn’t dare groan let alone squeak with the movement. I pull at the knot on my tie loosening it as I wonder what she’s up to right now. Is she asleep already? Or baking in the kitchen? She likes to relax in the hot tub after a long day, her body slick and wet, ready and waiting.

            It’s been months since the first time I’ve had her. Tasted her. Claimed her. Loved her. Yet still, my body ignites like I’m still a teenage boy looking at the first nude photo I found in my Dad’s desk drawer. There are many years and a lot of experience between now and then and still I have this insatiable craving for Aria. Always.

            My smile waivers, the back of my head hitting the headrest of my chair as my heavy lids fall closed. If it was just her body I was after everything would be perfect. Our clothes are rarely on and our skin is always touching but whenever I try to get any deeper than our very real and tempting physical relationship, she shuts me down. And usually, we end up fighting or rolling over to sleep. Always ignoring the bigger issues.

           Still, I picture her. Aria’s flittering form dancing in front of me, like a magnetic beacon of her soul, calls to mine, shining bright and forcing me forward. Keeping my eyes locked on her gorgeous, soft hips that move to a beat I can’t hear. She’s in the kitchen creating delicate and mouth-watering treats with a smile on her face and relaxed shoulders.

            She takes my very breath away with her beauty and radiance. Never, have I seen someone so destined for something they enjoy so much. The way she lights up the very moment she steps into a kitchen. The moment she saw my kitchen for the first time will be forever stitched into my memories. Her face slack with awe and heated with passion. Oh, and how bright her passion burns. She’s my sun, my heat, my warmth, my guide. My life.

            I’ve never wanted for much. I never need for anything. My pockets have always been full of more money than I will ever know what to do with and my stomach has always been filled. I’ve never suffered through a huge tragedy. I grew up with distant and at times cruel parents. I spent more time at boarding school and camps meant to groom me into my father’s mini-me. I watched my grandfather, the only good-hearted man in my family take his last breath sooner than I was ready for.

            But I never really suffered. Not like Aria. Never like Aria. She’s seen the worst life has to offer. She’s been hungry, cold, and neglected. She suffered verbal and physical abuse most of her life. Abuse that left scars deeper than I’ll ever fully understand. She was never given any real chance in this life and yet…

            She’s pure in heart, dedicated, loyal, kind, smart, passionate, and ultimately, she turned out good. She’s who I see standing by my side as I take over this company and later when I run for the Senate. She’ll be perfect to keep me sane and rooted in reality. I need her to be my anchor to the real world, the one where most Americans, most humans live. Not just the billionaires and famous people I grew up with. No, my goal has always been to help the people and that starts with listening to their everyday experiences. And that’s something I don’t and won’t relate to, but Aria does.

            And more than my career aspirations and the role she would play in them, I see her next to me in my everyday moments. The quiet times. When I open my eyes on my last day on this earth I want her eyes to be the ones I wake to. For the very last time, I want her deep blue eyes looking at me, filled with wicked and chaotic ideas. Even old and gray she’ll be a force and on my last day, I want to be swept away by her.

            I want her laughter to fill my ears on the hard days, the days that are as long as today and the world feels as heavy as ever. I want her electric touch when I’m drained and spent. I want the privilege to stand by her side as she becomes the powerful and successful woman, I know she’s already on her way to becoming.

            My dreams are filled with our children. A couple of girls with curly blonde hair and messy faces. Their pudgy little hands covered in flour and jelly. A sweet and kind little boy that wipes away his sister's tears and dances with his mom when I’m not there to do it. All of them with bigger attitudes and more stubborn pride than either of us. (And that’s saying something.) Little monsters that will have us falling into bed at night already half asleep. We will be too exhausted to lose ourselves in each other but that is okay because it’s still Aria that’s there next to me, it’s always her.

            But what if it isn’t.

            Dread slithers down my spine, lifting up the little hairs as I shiver as all my dreams turn into my worst nightmares. Rubbing my eyes I stand quickly. The movement shoves the chair back until it’s slamming into the glass window behind my desk, the outline of Boston and all the city lights on display.  But I ignore it all instead I shuffle over to the bar off to the side of my office. Grabbing a glass I fill it with Scotch and down it in seconds before refilling it and repeating. But no matter how many I drink it doesn’t drown out the thoughts, it doesn’t stop the scenes filling my head. And it doesn’t help stop that feeling that won’t go away. Like it’s inevitable. Like no matter how hard I fight I’ll always lose.

            And I will…always lose because no matter how hard I try I don’t think I’m what she needs anymore. Not since that mother fucker got her.  

          When I first met her she walked with her shoulders squeezed in, like she was always trying to make herself smaller. To this day she still does it and I don’t think she even realizes it. It’s a built-in instinct from years of hiding herself from her abusers.

         My head dips between my shoulders in defeat. Aria was standing on her own, she was looking straight up and holding her own. She found her voice and her strength. She f*****g thrived even under immense pressure she proved that nothing could hold her down. Nothing could make her cower.

        There was always a passionate and electric connection between the two of us and that was always clear in her expressive eyes. But when she was comfortable and settled and her attraction wasn’t clouding her thoughts, I saw the pain she tried to hide. The vulnerability, the trust issues, the shields and barriers she had up to protect herself with good reason, were obvious and broke my heart. This beautiful woman had gone through so much and day by day I knocked the barriers down. I earned her trust and she gave me her heart as I gave her mine. Something that shocked even her.

       Her bitter and scared out look fell away allowing us to build something beautiful. Something I still want, but I’m not sure she does. Because the barriers are back up. Her shoulders are always scrunched in with her head pointed back so she can always see behind her. She wakes multiple times a night from nightmares. Most mornings I wake to an empty cold bed and when I go looking I usually find her in the kitchen with a haunted expression. Dark and deep bags live permanently under her eyes and her hands are forever shaking. Something she struggles to hide on camera now that she’s back to filming.

      She won’t talk to me instead she does her best to avoid me altogether or get me in bed and distract me with her gorgeous and addicting body.

     “f**k!” My hand slams into the bar top, shaking the surface enough for the glass bottles to clink together, threatening to tip over like dominos.

            I’m failing at everything. My family’s company, my grandfather's legacy, is on the brink of utter destruction that will leave the world in shock. Thousands of people could lose their jobs, retirements, pensions, everything they’ve spent years building because of my father and I’m no closer to stopping him than I was months ago.

            My mother has wedged herself up my ass about my wedding. A wedding that still isn’t real. I may have ripped that contract but I never asked her to marry me, not for real. And for weeks now I’ve had to balance on a thin balancing beam feeding my mother enough to keep her out of my hair long enough to get anything else done, without letting her plan an actual wedding.

            Worst of all, I don’t know how to help Aria. I can’t reach her, I can’t breakthrough. And if I can’t break through I know it’s only a matter of time before she smartens up and moves on. She went through something horrific, something earth-shattering. Life-altering.

            I have to accept there’s a possibility that her path and mine diverged and she’s not meant to be mine after all. Because if I can’t help her, she needs someone that can. She deserves someone that can. And I’ll never stand in her way. I’ll never be another reason she wilted when she can thrive and outshine us all.

            Tossing the last of the Scotch back I pull out my phone and call for Leo. He’ll have to drive me home, and for tonight I know I’ll be too drunk to have any important conversation. I take comfort in that, I have at least one more night to hold her, and I’m going to take full advantage.