All Because Of Him

eighty seven.

Two broken hands. Fractured ribs. Every single finger broken. Fractured jaw.

Each second she spoke to me about the horrors of what Isaac Reynold, an 'innocent' went through, I felt my heart rate pick up speed. I couldn't imagine it, no matter how many times I told myself that this wasn't him I knew where all the signs were pointing.

'Because I'm the worst'

Those were his words.

In the moment I just thought he could have been teasing me, but even then I remember how a tingle was sent down my spine from the mere perplexity of Mason being tall, dark, handsome and reckless- dangerous even.

He's warned me before on what he would do to the men that touch me, how angry it makes him. He's said how it makes him want to kill them, but whenever those words flew out his mouth I thought they were only dramaticized exaggerations of a jealous and dominating man.

I never took him seriously.

But Isaac was different than Felix or Jaime, what happened between the two of us was never consensual, there were tears, screams, hopeless cries for help.

He saw I was drinking, waited until I was alone and tried to take advantage of me. I can still picture it; his face buried into the empty space between my jaw and my shoulder, when I close my eyes I can still smell the nauseating pungent stench of liquor seeping out from his pores, I can feel his perspiring hands force my body against the wall, fingers eagerly finding their way to the zipper of my skirt.

Never have I felt so weak in my entire life, so powerless.

If Mason hadn't shown up I know I wouldn't have been able to fight him off of me, he was too strong, and even though there's a very little part of me screaming in the back of my mind that it maybe could have in fact been possible if I put all my strength into it, the fear and panic weighing down on my body restrained every thought, every muscle and motive to help me do anything about it.

That night was only a couple days ago, and since then I have fallen so deep into whatever it is Mason and I have going on. That even given the facts it's still hard for me to gather how someone I've seen act so gentle, so softhearted and compassionate can also be so cruel.

I've been with Mason every single day since that night, and after my mind reels in all this new information I realize that this had to have happened last night.

Mason came back to Jessica's drunk last night.

He was even more affectionate than usual, the smile on his face was wider, eyes shined brighter than normal and the strawberry margaritas Freddie made him had given him the courage to open up a bit more to me without any mask or guard up.

He was so lovable.

So kind.

Surely this couldn't have happened last night, right?

Throughout the time he's been back he's been telling- no, insisting- that I really don't know anything about him. I originally thought he was just trying to make me get over the ghost of him from our past, but there's this sinking feeling inside me that those words had a truer meaning than I anticipated.

What if I really didn't know him like I thought I did?

How is it possible that the Mason who was attacking my face with kisses only two hours ago was the same Mason who broke someone's hands last night?

I feel like there's only one sane way for me to react to this, and that is to run for the fucking hills. But Mason doesn't make me sane in the slightest, and it's occurring to me just how fucked up I really must be in order to not be scared by any of this.