Page 23 of The Spare

Though I'm not getting a tap in, I'm holding my own, and it makes me ecstatic. At just the last moment, I step forward when he hesitates for a second, and I tap my foil to his chest. He stops, his mask lowering to see the point sticking into his lamé.

My eyes widen in shock as I just stare, not believing I tapped him. His head raises, and with a flick of his arm he flicks my foil away, taking two steps forward and picks me up, hauling me against him on an excited shout.

I squeal, dropping my foil to the mat and laughing with real joy as he turns me around, joining in my laughter. Our masks touch as he lowers me to the ground, and it's only then I realize how intimate of an embrace we were just in. He puts a finger to my chest, keeping his mask pressed to mine.

"Have faith in yourself, butterfly," he says quietly.

I pull back, ripping off my mask and shoving my hair out of my face breathing hard. "I did it," I pant, feeling my chest tighten.

He pulls his off as well, giving me a wicked grin. "You did."

"I did it." My lips quiver as tears prick the back of my eyes."I did it,"I repeat in a thick voice, bringing my gloved hand to cover my mouth. The tears come unbidden as suddenly Karissa's daddy comment hits me full force.

For all my accomplishments and the things I want out of my life, I'll never have a father to share the highs and lows with. No father to protect me, no broad chest to curl into when I need to cry or feel loved when the world is being nasty, and I just want to feel safe. I sniff, trembling, trying to give Mason a shaky smile through the tears.

Mason's face falls at the sight of my tears.

"Mel?"he says, dropping his mask and his foil, pulling me to him not saying another word. He doesn't need to. He knows how I feel, just like I know how he feels. Things usually don't need to be said when it comes to the two of us.

I rest my head against his lamé and cry.

Cry for myself, and cry for the things that I want that I probably won't have.

And therefore, I have nothing to share with said 'father' after all. And the knowledge breaks my heart.

Chapter eight

New Roles

Opening my eyes I grimace, lamenting my sour mood as I apparently wake up on the wrong side of the bed. It's a drizzly Friday morning, and there's not much to see out the window of my bedroom.

It's been two days since I've seen Melody at the fencing venue, and I'm desperate to see her. Knowing it'll make myself feel better, I pull out my phone and take a peek through the hidden camera in Melody's dorm, and as if it's just working out to be a shitty day all around, it seems she's not her best self todayeither.

She wakes up fifteen minutes late, and she's back from her run a lot earlier than normal which means she didn't do her usual nine miles.

To make matters worse, an accident en route to King Dynasty makes me almost an hour late and causes me to miss the early market, but once I'm there, I take an astonishing half a million dollar loss in one of my personal stocks. However, Melody's goes up almost thirty grand, so that's good news.

I'm sitting at the leather seating area in my office around noon, clutching a crystal tumbler of scotch and contemplating calling it an early day when Hendrix comes strolling in the office looking rather haggard-if I may say so myself. I eye him warily.

Damn, has everyone been dealt the shit end of the stick today or what?

Oddly enough, a spark of sympathy flickers to life where annoyance usually dwells.

"Hendrix," I say slowly, tilting my head and giving him a thorough assessment. Jesus, he doesn't look right. "To what do I owe the honor?" Other than his weary expression, though, he looks like his usual put together self. His three piece suit is impeccable as always.

He heaves a deep sigh, walking over to the drinks cabinet and pouring himself a whiskey. I take another sip and force myself to be patient as I'm not exactly jumping with joy to go back to the numbers after sustaining such a heavy loss.

"Mason, I hate to ask you to do this, but I need a favor."

"Oh, fuuuck," I growl as that sympathy flame effectively snuffs out. I wanted to go home and work out some of this stress, have a decadent dinner, then pleasure the rest of it away and go to bed. "What is it?"

He sits heavily in the chair opposite and groans, grabbing a hand to his nape and rolling his neck hard.

I grunt. "Isobel finally try to break your neck or something?" I chuckle, remembering the time she slapped him when she was pregnant. He deserved it that time, though.

He throws me an annoyed look that I return."No,"he snaps. "I've barely slept in a week."

I squint, taking a closer look. His eyes are bloodshot, and the expensive suit might actually be the only thing holding him up at the moment. Hendrix tosses back the drink, downing it all in one go. He coughs once, rubbing his hands harshly down his face and leaning forward to put the crystal tumbler to the table with a thump.