Chapter Twenty

                                    

                                          
A phone ringing in the middle of the night woke me up, and I rolled over, feeling Mason sit up and turn on the light next to the bed. I started dozing off, not really hearing what Mason was saying to the other person who he was on the phone with. 
                          
I jolted awake when I heard a smash, and I quickly sat up and looked at him. He was standing up and pacing back and forth angrily ripping his hands through his hair. I stood up and walked in front of him, putting my hand on his bicep, stopping him from walking. He collapsed in front of me and wrapped his arms around my waist, staying on his knees. "Hey," I soothed, "Hey, what's wrong? What happened?"
                          
He responded by letting out a sad cry and I gasped. I had never seen him actually cry before. Tear up, yeah, but cry? No, never. 
                          
I placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away gently, kneeling in front of him. I took his face in my hands and wiped away the falling tears, like he had done for me so many times before. I shushed him and continued drying his tears, but they just kept flowing, and he just stared at me. 
                          
Mason grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him so that he was sitting and I was kneeling, with my knees on either side of his waist. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rubbed circles in his back, as he stayed there and cried. "Mas, what happened?" I whispered.
                          
"My dad." He spat. "He's dead." I gasped and pulled away from him. My throat burned, wanting to cry, but I knew that I had to remain calm and collected so Mason didn't lose his shit. 
                          
"Oh my God." I stuttered and put my hand on his cheek, as more tears fell from his eyes. 
                          
"They-they shot him. With a fucking silver bullet." He growled, getting angry. "I can't believe-"
                          
"Sh..." I said and wrapped my arms around him again. "Don't talk about it right now. Don't get angry yet, Mas, you need to let yourself feel the loss. Then you can get mad."
                          
He pushed me away and glared at me, "You don't get it." 
                          
I looked him in the eyes and said, "No, I don't get it. I've never lost a parent. But you're not the only one who is feeling the loss of your father. The pack lost their Alpha, your mom lost her husband, and your sister also lost her father. He was special to a lot of people, so don't act like you're the only one who is hurting."
                          
He stared at me in shock and I continued, "I'm so sorry for your loss, babe, I really am. But if you pity yourself and ignore everyone else's pain, I'll be so disappointed in you." He nodded, his face clearing up and his eyes drying. "I'm not saying you need to stop crying, you actually should let it out. I'm here for you." 
                          
"I don't need to cry anymore, I just need you here with me." His voice cracked and I nodded, standing up and pulling him with me. 
                          
He laid down on the bed and I tucked myself behind him, with my front pressed against his back, and I wrapped my arms under his arms, and my legs around his waist, like he was wearing me as a backpack. "I never got to tell him that I loved him."
                          
I kissed his shoulder, comfortingly and said, "He knew you did. You didn't have to tell him."
                          


                          
-
                          
Mason and I decided to cut our trip short and to go back home, so that Mason could be with his family. We got the earliest flight back home and packed our bags quickly and headed to the airport, not even bothering to change into regular clothes. I was wearing my black soffe shorts one of Mason's blue sweatshirts, and white converse that I threw on, with my hair in a messy bun. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt with black nike shoes on. 
                          
When we arrived at the airport, Mason didn't really talk, he just sat there numb. He would occasionally nod or shake his head if I asked him something, but other than that, he was a statue.