Come Out Swinging (Reach for the Moon Book 2), Sam Hall [leveled readers .TXT] 📗

petty revenge. It made me feel better, stronger, so I just tore harder. Then the tears came.

It was that which drew him forward. He could’ve left me to destroy my dress because there was no immediate threat to me, only the fabric. He’d intended to fade back into the shadows, go back outside, and leave me to it. But the sobs? Rough, hacking, painful sounding things, he couldn’t walk away from them. He moved forward, deliberately letting his footfalls ring through the space, announcing his presence. I was up and off the stairs at that, looking frantically around at the shredded fabric, but pushed myself into a small ball against the bannister instead.

There he was, this Mason, much taller, stronger, having spent so much time working and training with my dad. The one whose eyes caught mine across the dining table when we sat down to eat.

“Shit, are you…” he said, starting towards me, then stopping when he saw how hard I was pressed against the wall. “Hey, it’s OK. Do you want me to get your dad?” I shook my head definitely. “Right, well…”

He bent down, making himself smaller to try and make me more comfortable, I now realised. He was somewhere into his teens and already wearing the responsibilities of a man. He moved forward slowly, picking up the shreds of fabric and balling them in his hand before shoving them in his pocket. He came closer but not too close, and then sat down on the bottom step.

“Something went wrong?” he asked carefully.

I hated when adults did that, asked you questions, pinpointed the issue with what felt like prescient accuracy. As soon as they identified what was wrong, everything I’d been fighting so hard to hold back came rushing up, as if summoned by their words. My eyes stung with tears I fought to hold inside, my face starting to crumple.

“Oh, shit, Paige…”

He was terrified, knew that if he was caught sitting on the stairs with a crying heir, anyone but Adam would toss him out on his ear, but he couldn’t move away. He knew this sound, those tears. Not the spoiled protests of a wilful child, this was real pain. Part of him wondered what the hell was able to provoke that in the Spehr heir, but that was quickly replaced by a rush of protectiveness. He wasn’t accepted, this wasn’t his family, but when he saw me crying my little heart out, something big and hot and important swelled in his chest. He eased himself over, reaching for me, and to his utter shock, I threw myself into his arms. His closed around me, feeling how small, how fragile I was, and they tightened further still.

I got different things from the memories. Sometimes it felt like I was watching them play out, sometimes that I was in Mason’s shoes, but this? What rushed from his heart into mine almost had mine standing still.

This is when I knew, he said. This is when I knew I had to protect you. Adam told me more than once that I wasn’t his beta, I was yours. He found us that night, saw me holding you…

“Shh…” Mason said, over and over, shakily at first, then more confidently, rocking me with his body over and over, until finally, I stopped crying.

He could feel the wet spot my tears had left on his shirt, felt it sticking to his skin, but that didn’t matter, not like this did. I moved within his embrace, finding a drier spot to rest my head, and then snuggled in deeper. It felt like a million years passed between one heartbeat, then the next, before I settled, pressing my nose into his chest and taking a deep breath of him.

“What’s this?”

His head jerked up to see the alpha standing over him, looking so much younger. My brows creased as I watched him meet Dad’s eyes.

“A-Alpha, she—” Mason stammered out.

“Not alpha, Mason. We talked about that.”

“Um…Adam. I found your daughter inside, obviously upset. She was ripping at her dress—”

“Nancy,” the alpha said in a careful tone.

“I’m not sure. She didn’t say anything. She was just really upset, and so I—”

A hand came to rest on Mason’s shoulder, a gentle one, and Mason stilled at that, letting out a long breath.

“You looked after my daughter when she was sad, made her feel better?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dad smiled, shaking his head at the honorific sneaking back in.

“That’s all I ask of my men—that they keep my girl safe. Paige, she’s got a hard road ahead of her, harder than most women. Anyone who’s there by her side, keeping her safe? He’s all right in my book.”

Dad…

Tears pricked my eyes as the memory faded. Dad, Mase… I wanted to grab a hold of it, of them, and not let it go. But it faded, as it always would now, leaving me aching behind.

My own recall of that night was fuzzy at best. I’d been a kid, easily upset and easily soothed, but our relationship changed after that, me and Mase. He was there, he was a source of quiet strength. He wasn’t beholden to Nance or the family or the town.

He was mine.

My little heart had claimed him back then. Not in any sexual way, I wouldn’t even have had any inkling of that then, and I didn’t get that from Mason either. Back then, for him, I was probably a Zack substitute and an extension of my father, who Mason loved fanatically. But it was the first steps taken towards where we were now.

The stairs, the memory, all fell away, and then there was just darkness and him. This Mason, my Mason, he stepped towards me, holding out a hand but looking unsure of how I’d react, just like he had on the stairs. And I walked into it, wanting, needing that feel of his body against mine. He closed his arms around me, just held me for a moment, and then placed a kiss on my head.

“I was to