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Uncle Piper had two daughters: Tiger Jade and Maxton. They were beautiful, fair-skinned girls with a sprinkle of freckles across their cheeks.

Maxton and Tiger came around some when I was younger. They took me out for ice cream a couple times. Yeah, they were good people.

Aunt Wanda was the only one in the family who never wanted kids. She’d had too many abortions to count, as well as several miscarriages. She wasn’t the motherly type anyway.

Remembering where I came from reminded me where I was. As I sat on the edge of the bed watching Mason, I wondered if he was the one person I could count on. Maybe he was everything that was good and right. Maybe he was what it felt like to feel wanted and needed. To feel relied on.

I wasn’t sure I knew what love was, but maybe it was whatever I wanted it to be.

“Renee’s a nice girl. She seems nice anyway,” I offered with a shrug.

Mason pulled his shirt over his head and shook his hair back in place. He stared at me, obviously not understanding what I meant.

“I don’t know. I never pegged her for a druggie though,” Mason said.

“She’s really pretty, too,” I said. I watched him carefully, gauging his reaction. Nothing.

“She’s okay. I don’t like short hair on girls.” He shrugged.

I nervously chewed on my thumbnail. It was hard to come out and ask what I wanted to know.

“Do you think you’ll see her again while we are here?” I looked at the floor, embarrassed. My heart was racing as I waited for his answer.

“Uh, I don’t think she’s interested in seeing me after I almost killed Shifty,” Mason chuckled at the thought of it.

“What if she wanted to see you again?” I carefully worked my shoes on my feet. I took extra-long tying them. I knew Mason was staring at me as if I were crazy for asking so many dumb questions. He knew me, and when I asked a lot of questions, I wasn’t to be ignored.

“You’re mad at me for sleeping with her,” he said, in more a statement than a question. He sat down on the bed next to me and rubbed his forehead.

“I didn’t say that, I just…” I trailed off, out of words.

“Kendall, I’m an idiot. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I didn’t know what I was doing.” Mason sighed and looked over at me. I looked away and fiddled with my shoelace.

“It’s hard to figure these things out. I can’t do anything when you won’t let me in.” Silence.

“Was it the same as when we have sex?” I asked. I tugged at my hair. I couldn’t look away from him as he stumbled for the right words.

“I don’t know, Kendall. I was high.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, even if I weren’t high, it would have been some stupid girl.” He seemed cagey, almost agitated. I knew I’d put him on the spot.

“Okay, Mason,” I said. But it wasn’t okay at all. I wanted to know more. I wanted to hear more. I wanted to know everything he was thinking.

We made our way outside. The hallway was empty. The bright lights severely contrasted my mood. Mason pulled the door shut and shoved the key card in his front pocket.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to ask me, Kendall,” he said.

I crossed my arms as we made it down the hallway. My skin felt itchy the day after my encounter with those nasty drugs.

“I don’t know either. I guess I just wanted an answer.” I snapped the rubber band on my wrist, the pain a distraction from my aching mind.

“An answer to what? Maybe if I knew the question, I could answer.”

Payton opened her hotel room door as we passed by. Her hair was wet. She looked straight at Mason. I could see it in her eye she had something important to say.

“What?” Mason asked, his bad attitude apparent.

“I need a favor from you,” she said calmly.

I thought it odd she even acknowledged me with a glance. Most of the time she acted like I didn’t exist.

Payton motioned us into her room and shut the door before she said anything more. Mason plopped down on her bed. I remained standing. I didn’t want to tread on Payton’s personal space. We waited patiently to hear what she wanted from us.

When Payton finally spoke, she said, “There’s this man who has something for me. I just need you to pick it up,” she said.

I bit my tongue. Why did it have to be Mason? Why did she want him taking off for who knows what? Payton had barely stepped a toe out of her room since we’d gotten to Virginia.

Mason stretched, his arms rising above his head. He seemed to be pondering what Payton had just said. Payton lit a cigarette and leaned against the dresser. Most of the time, Payton relied on her looks and wit to get what she wanted. I wasn’t too sure her charms worked on Mason.

“What’s wrong with you going?” Mason asked, staring her down.

“You and Kendall are always out and about. I thought it wasn’t a big deal,” she said, still calm. She flicked her ashes into a cup and blew out a large cloud of smoke.

“Kendall, you don’t mind, do you?” she asked me, searching my face expectantly.

Something about her request didn’t feel right. I wanted to tell Mason to forget it, but I didn’t.

“No, I don’t care. We were just going to get something to eat,” I said, quickly looking away.

Mason stood up and took the cigarette from her. He held it in one hand, raking his other hand through his hair. Payton seemed to back off a bit.

Mason took a long drag on the cigarette; the red ember ate away at it.

“Write down the address, Mom. I’d hate to think it’s anything other than what you’re saying it is,” Mason said, smoke escaping as he spoke.

Payton turned away and grabbed the brush off the dresser and began brushing her hair. I watched her expression in the mirror to see if I detected anything out of the ordinary. Ordinary for Payton was nervousness and agitation.

She spun back around.

“Do it, don’t do it, I don’t give a shit. Is that what you want me to say, Mason?” she asked. She stopped brushing her hair and glared at him. I stared at him as well, not sure what would come next.

Mason just glared back as he took another drag of her cigarette.

“What’s with this bullshit defiance, whatever you want to call it,” she snapped.

“I’m a grown man. You’re lucky I’ve hung around this long,” he tossed back. He remained calm as he talked back to her.

“You’re grown, huh?” she asked, laughing. The laugh wasn’t the result of her amusement; it was because she was pissed.

“Yep,” he said, popping the p louder than usual.

Seconds later, Payton whipped her hairbrush at him. Mason blocked it with his forearm, sending it to the floor.

I flinched at Payton’s sudden movement. She wasn’t backing down.

She balled her fist, going after Mason. Mason grabbed her and shoved her, and she fell backward onto her bed. His body hovered over her, his breathing ragged and unsteady from anger.

He still held the cigarette between his fingers as he grabbed ahold of Payton’s shirt.

I stopped myself from getting in the middle.

“That’s the last time you’re going to do that to me!” Mason yelled. He shoved her as soon as she tried to sit up. Payton was outraged. She grabbed a hold of his shirt, a million insults flying from her lips.

Mason pried her hands off him.

“You’re as worthless as your father!” she screamed at him.

Mason was immediately angered when he heard the words he never wanted to hear from anyone. He stepped back, putting some distance between him and his so-called mother and flicked the cigarette at her. He grabbed the next thing he saw, ripping the lamp’s cord from the wall.

“Mason!” I screamed, as I watched him raise the lamp above his head. Payton raised her hands in defense as he threw it at her. He didn’t stick around. He was out the door seconds later.