“Shut up,” she sneered.
“I’ll meet you for dinner. Tomorrow. But don’t make me go with you now.”
“You’re coming home with me. End of discussion.”
Before I had a chance to get back out, she was in the driver’s seat and had started the car.
When she was pulling out of the parking lot, I scrambled for the door lock. Everyone else in this town was driving a trusty old Ford truck, but my mother just had to get the latest G Wagon. I was desperate, and the intricacies of new door locks were not going to stop me. With a bit of luck, I managed to unlock the door and open it. My seat belt wasn’t fastened, so as soon as the door opened, I simply threw myself out of the car.
I didn’t think my mother realized just how far I would go to get away from her. I could only imagine her surprise when she saw me disappear through the door.
I hit the ground and all the air escaped my lungs. I rolled a few times, the concrete biting into my skin. My only saving grace was that we hadn’t been going very fast; her tires screeched to a stop a few yards up the road. I rolled to my side to inspect the damage to my arm. Parts of my skin were torn off and it stung, bringing tears to my eyes.
“Stella?” someone called out.
I pushed myself up to sitting and turned toward the voice. Mason was running in my direction at full speed. Tires spun out, kicking up gravel as my mother drove off, leaving me on the side of the road.
I was so relieved to see Mason I started crying. He came to a sliding stop next to me and dropped to his knees. “Fuck, what happened? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
His hands hovered for a second, but he must have come to a decision because he put them around me and helped me up.
I gripped onto the front of his shirt, the contact grounding me in the here and now. “I’m fine. It’s just a graze.”
My voice sounded funny and I was wheezing, trying to force the air in and out of my lungs.
His eyes drifted over me. “Bullshit. You’re not fine. I’m taking you to the emergency room.”
Leaning against him, with his arm around my waist, he walked me to his car, putting me inside and buckling me in. He leaned closer, his eyes flitting over my face. “You still with me?”
I dropped my head back against the headrest and nodded.
He got in on the driver’s side and started the car. The tires spun when he pulled out of the parking lot and raced down the road. I prayed we would make it to the hospital in one piece.
His head kept turning my way. “You’re doing great. We’re almost there. Just hang on a few more minutes.”
Those were the longest few minutes of my entire life. My arm was on fire and tears were running down my face when we finally pulled up outside the emergency room. He jumped out and opened my door, putting his arm around me and helping me make my way to the door.
He sat me down in a chair in the waiting room, his touch light, his voice soft. “Wait here. I’ll get someone to come out.”
I was ready to curl up on the floor and start crying when he went up to the counter and left me by myself. My arm hurt, but I didn’t think it was anything serious. I was a mess because of what had happened with my mother, her actions unexpected and out of character. After a few seconds, the nurse he was talking to put the phone to her ear and spoke into it.
He sat down next to me and traced a finger up my cheek, wiping my tears. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’ll be fine. They’ll send someone out.”
Of course they would send someone, because nobody ever said no to Mason. If he couldn’t charm someone, he would intimidate them. In his world he always got what he wanted. And for once I was glad, because the thought of sitting in a waiting room was making me shake even more. I wanted to go home and forget this day ever happened.
A nurse approached a few minutes later and after taking one look at my arm, she waved me straight through.
I was allocated a bed, then given something for the pain. Mason helped me lie down, his voice still soft, his manner so different from his usual coldness. Once he rearranged my pillows and pulled a sheet over my legs, I was sure they gave me the good drugs and I was hallucinating. He seemed to care what happened to me. And that was impossible.
Even though I knew that this wasn’t real, and that he could go right back to hating me at any moment, I grabbed his hand and held on tight. He didn’t pull back, but instead sat down on the side of the bed. We stayed like that until the doctor showed up. He examined my arm and decided it only needed to be cleaned. A nurse put a dressing on and gave me instructions on how to care for the wound. I had to keep it dry until they changed the dressing in a week.
Once the doctor was satisfied I didn’t have any other injuries, I was released with a prescription for pain meds. I guess the injury looked worse than it actually was, the shock of my mother trying to get me to come back home enough to send me into a panic.
In no time, I found myself back in Mason’s passenger seat. We were parked in front of the pharmacy and he was looking at me. “I’ll run in and get your medication.
