The Truth About Unspeakable Things, Emily Myers [bookstand for reading TXT] 📗

clubs, more women being victimized. And if Mason, someone so close to the man I care for, is involved, then their reach seems inescapable. My insides convulse at the thought.

“These two are coming with me. I have something special planned in my limo outside,” Mason explains.

“I see,” the Mistress says. “Well, as long as that one is back by 3:00 a.m. for clean-up, you can be on your way,” she says, pointing to me.

“Yes, Mistress,” Mason says. My blood runs cold as Mason refers to her as Mistress. He’s telling the truth. He must be.

* * *

“That black car just up ahead,” Mason tells me, pointing in front of me. “Here, let me.”

Mason carries my blonde companion up the alleyway to the black town car he has waiting. I follow behind them, mentally searching for an explanation as to Mason’s presence here tonight. Nothing I come up with eases the tension in my bones. Even more disturbing than his presence, I’m unsure of how he recognized me. My own father didn’t. Has he been following me? The more I think, the more questions come to mind, and I don’t expect any of their answers to give me comfort.

I consider running. But as Mason helps Marissa into the car, I know that isn’t an option. In her drunken ramblings, she told us her name.

Mason turns and watches me as I take the final few steps up the alleyway to the car. If it’s true, if he is a member then he is an animal, a monster. And yet, he doesn’t seem to want to hurt me. With this single thought, I close the distance between us.

“Mason?” I ask, unsure of which question to pose first.

“Emma.”

Suddenly aware of my lack of clothing, I attempt to cover myself with my arms. Mason smiles. “Here,” he says, giving me his jacket. If I weren’t so embarrassed, I wouldn’t take it. I don’t want a thing from anyone in any way associated with that club. Nevertheless, I slip it on over my shoulders.

Finally, I work up the courage to ask my questions. They come out like puzzles pieces scattered across a table, all at once and disorganized. “How did you know I was here? How did you recognize me? How did you even know about this place? Are you really a member?” I ask, praying my assumption is wrong.

“I was walking back to Julian’s after grabbing some groceries when I saw you leave your house. I recognized the outfit and knew whatever you were getting yourself into wasn’t good,” he says. “So, I followed you. Sure enough, I found you here. And to answer your other question, yes, I’m a member. They have these clubs all over the place, especially in major cities. I…I used to be involved in the Los Angeles chapter, but I no longer partake in the pleasures, at least not in over two years,” he explains.

I nod, surprised he’s in any way related to Julian. Scum.

“Why did you follow me?” I ask. My nature is instantly more defensive.

“Like I said, I knew you’d find yourself in trouble, and trouble for you is trouble for my brother. He cares too much,” he says.

Somehow his words feel like daggers.

“Well, for some, caring isn’t a weakness. It’s a privilege,” I say.

“Or a curse,” Mason offers up. “Especially when the girl you love dumps you for no good reason,” he says.

I take a step back and wrap my arms around my body even tighter. Loves?

“He’s not good, Emma,” Mason says. “And I may be an asshole who has done things he’d rather not remember, but…Julian is my little brother, Emma. He’s all I have, and you hurt him. Still, if something happened to you, it’d only kill him more,” Mason says, taking a pause. “You need to talk to him, Emma. If you have any care for him at all, you need to give him closure. He deserves that much,” Mason says, turning to leave.

“Mason, wait.” He turns back to face me. I bite my lip and despite my better judgement, I tell the truth. “I love your brother, Mason,” I tell him, throwing my arms to my sides. “It’s because I love him that I have to stay away, at least for now.”

I drop my head in defeat. Despite my good intentions, Julian doesn’t deserve to hurt. He doesn’t deserve to be strung along and played with. He shouldn’t have to wait for me, even though I…I can’t imagine him no longer being a part of my life. Still, that’s the price I have to pay, not him.

My tear-filled eyes meet Mason’s. “If you really want to help your brother, then you need to get him out of New Orleans,” I choke. Tears stream down my face. “Do everything you can to get him on a plane back to LA. It’s the only way I can be sure he’s safe.”

With that, I slip into the car and pull the door—

“Safe from what? From who?” Mason says, stopping the car door with his hand. I can barely make out his form through my blurry vision.

“Safe from Beauregard Thomas,” I say. “Until he’s either dead or behind bars, Julian isn’t safe. None of us are.”

Chapter 20

I sit on the stoop of my fireplace as Marissa tosses and turns on my mattress. Coffee is hot in my hand as the sun rises, creating slivers of sunlight on the walls of my bedroom. After we managed to escape Club Gent, I brought Marissa home with me. Kat spent the night with Demetri, so I didn’t have to explain the drunken, half-naked girl’s appearance. I do wonder what I would’ve said if she’d been home. My head hurts just at the thought.

I managed to clean her of the vomit, alcohol, and smeared makeup covering her skin. Back in Kat’s more reckless days, I perfected the technique. She was conscious long enough to slip into some more comfortable clothes and ask me my name. I told her and she thanked