Letters to Someone Else

(Violet)

I woke up and was alone. In Mason’s bed. In Mason’s apartment. I felt hungover, but I hadn’t been drinking. My body felt hungover. Not my head. But my body… between my legs. I was a little sore, but more tingly as I thought about what had happened.

I threw the covers off myself and found my PJ bottoms and my shirt.

I went to the bathroom for my morning pee and went out the other door.

There was no sign of Mason anywhere.

“Mason?” I yelled out. “Hello?”

Part of me hoped he was out getting us coffee and some food. Something sweet and romantic, you know? Like guys did in the movies. But it was Mason. He was full of surprises.

Then again, I was alone in his place.

If I was going to play the games he did… I set my sights to the bathroom and then to his bedroom. He had been in my apartment and stole a pair of my panties. So I was going to do the same to him. Yeah, I knew he didn’t wear boxers all that much, but he still had to have some. I was going to steal a pair and then send him a picture.

The first drawer I opened was the jackpot.

It turned me on a little to be snooping and digging through his boxers. The first pair I grabbed, there was something under them. A piece of paper. I noticed then there were several pieces of paper.

Notes.

I grabbed on and looked at myself in the mirror. I unfolded the piece of paper, knowing I was probably crossing a line. But I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know about Mason.

Did he write poetry or something?

I looked down and saw it was a letter.

Written to someone named Kate.

I unfolded a couple more letters and they were all written to the same person.

To Kate.

I hurried to fold them all back up except the first one I had found.

I did a little stutter step as I debated on what I should do. The right thing would be to put the letter away. And then wait for Mason to come back and try to talk to him.

Kate.

It just stuck with me. A woman’s name.

I looked down at the letter.

I couldn’t help myself as I started to read.

Kate,

What a ride it’s been the last little bit here. I keep trying to defy time. I keep doing everything I can to waste it. Yet there are people who would give anything for more time, right? I’m sorry, but I laughed as I wrote that. I’m such a dick still. That side will never go away. I can’t control what’s inside me and what I do to let shit off my shoulders.

I went for a ride today to just get away from the shop. The noise. The paperwork. Shit, I keep saying it, but you would be amazed at what I’ve built. I’m amazed at it. These guys are good people and work their ass off for me. Sometimes I can’t believe I used to put firecrackers in frogs mouths for fun. Or that time I made a slingshot and tortured the squirrels for a little while. Pegging them and trying to knock them out of the tree. Remember the beating I took for that?

Scars, right?

Remember what you told me about scars? That they were visible memories. Some good, some bad, some funny. The scar on my knee when I learned how to ride without training wheels. The scar on my left ass cheek from when I broke into that pool for a swim with some chick and had to jump a fence from a dog and the top sliced my ass cheek.

Damn, I really find it harder to get through the days without you. I shouldn’t be writing that. I shouldn’t be thinking it. But it’s there. It’s just resting on my heart, weighing me down.

You never finished the job with me. The hate took back over again. It’s like an addiction, Kate. To see pain in other’s eyes. I don’t know how to explain it. To get someone to hate me… that was all I knew to get attention. And then if they hate me, they’ll leave me alone. I won’t have to tell my story and hear the bullshit. You never gave me bullshit for it. I got too close didn’t, I? I still think about it. What if I didn’t get close? Would you…

Who am I kidding?

I just punched a wall. How stupid of a thing for me to write. I’m sorry. I promised myself that I would forever write to you. That I would give you all the good to read. But I can’t find good sometimes, Kate. Sometimes never. I just go about my way, killing time, chasing women to ease up on the pain. It’s like a free fucking drug for me. I just keep taking the hits, taking what I want, and I keep waiting for something to come crashing down on me.

You told me that you believed written words could be read even if someone wasn’t here. I don’t know if I believe that. I could be writing this for nobody. Just wasting more time. But there’s a chance you might read these words so I have to keep writing them.

That’s all I got, Kate.

I have to meet someone tonight for work. He has a bunch of motorcycles he wants done up. It’s a big deal. Hunter told me to wear something nice because the restaurant is some fancy place. I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt. My usual. I’ll forever wear that shit, Kate.

I’d give anything to see you again. To hear your laugh. To ask you a damn question. Even if your answers usually pissed me off.

I’ll write again soon.

• Mason

I folded the letter and put it back in the drawer. I took out two more letters and they were written the same way. Written to Kate. Talking about his life. Talking about time. They all came with the implication that he was going to mail them to her.

Why didn’t he mail them to her? And who was Kate? Where was she now?

I thought I heard a noise from the kitchen so I scrambled to put everything away, including the pair of boxers I planned on stealing.

It just didn’t feel right.

I crept through the apartment and found Mason’s note, along with some cash.

Forty dollars.

Forty dollars and some lame excuse, so he didn’t have to face me in morning.

It made me feel cheap and used.

But what else did I expect with Mason?

He wasn’t going to surprise me with bagels and coffee. Some romantic morning conversation. No. He was going to hide himself from me. Or break into my apartment to put roses on my counter because jealousy got the best of him.

I crumbled up the money and threw it across the counter.

I grabbed the pen and wrote i hate you in big letters.

Then I went home.

I told myself I was fine. I didn’t need Mason or his cryptic life. Or the letters he wrote to someone else.

But I was wrong… I couldn’t stand to not be with him.

* * *

I put my key in the ignition and turned. I shut my eyes and whispered some kind of lame prayer. The car turned over and started. I sighed in relief and put my hands to the dash.

“Just a little bit longer,” I said.

Once the app hit, Victoria and I were going to do just fine. There were some people that scored tens of millions. Our investor suggested it was possible. I’d settle to buy a new car, a house, and get away from Mason for good.

Mason.

It always came back to him.

I had to drive home now.

Everything was out of mine and Victoria’s hands now. It was down to timing and launching the app at the right time. Then we’d wait and check the results. In the meantime Victoria was on a plane flying to Miami for a little fun. She begged me to go, even offering me a ticket, but I resisted.

I regretted it the second my car decided to give me problems.

It had done the not starting thing a couple times before, but I ignored it. Today it happened three times. Two of those times I was stranded for almost thirty minutes each, waiting for the car to decide to work.

When I got home, I ran right into Mason.

He was in the hallway holding a bag of takeout food.

“You’re home late,” he said.

“I’m sorry, should I have left you a note?” I shot back at him.

He grinned. “Fair enough. Everything okay?”

“You don’t care, Mason.”

“Try me.”

“My car is acting up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Won’t start. Then it does. I don’t know. I don’t know a thing about cars.”

“I do,” he said. “I can take a look at it for you.”

“See, what is that?”

“What is what?” he asked, sighing.

“You offering to help me. Yet the other morning you just took off. Left me money like I was some call girl.”

“Dammit,” he growled. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“Then what was your intention?”

“Maybe to avoid hurting you.”

“Hurting me? So you abandon me.”

“I didn’t abandon you, Violet. You were in my apartment. You live next door.”

“You’re a mystery and I fucking hate it, Mason.”

“I’m not a mystery.”

I wanted to bring up the letters I found - Dear Kate - but I held back.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’ll figure out my car tomorrow then. I’m tired.”

“Did you eat dinner?”

“I’ve got bread and peanut butter and jelly,” I said. “I’ll survive.”

Mason lifted the bag up. “I ordered with my stomach. No way I’m eating all of this.”

“So, what, is this a date?”

“Jesus, Violet,” he said. “It’s food. I’m offering you food. You had a shit day. I’m sorry your car broke down. I’m offering to help. What the fuck? Not everything comes wrapped in a wedding proposal, okay?”

“Asshole,” I said. I unlocked my apartment door. I paused and looked at him. “Do you have General Tso’s in there?”

“Of course I do,” Mason said.

“Fine. Come in.”

* * *

The takeout containers were on the counter, flaps opened, stained red and brown. I started to collect them when Mason snuck up behind me and slipped his hands around my waist.

“Stop,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Do you have to always be clean and organized?”

“It’s dirty food.”

“It’s not dirty food, Violet. We just ate that food. Who gives a shit if it stays on the counter for a little bit? Maybe even until tomorrow.”

“You live your life your way and I live mine my way,” I said.

I reached for an empty container of rice and Mason’s hand shot from my side to the container. He slapped it out of my hand. Then he spun me around and pinned me against the counter, his body against mine.

“Something is on your mind,” he said. “I can sense it. You’re not telling me something.”

“It’s not my job to tell you everything. You don’t tell me everything.”

“You’re pissed that I left that morning. I went to the shop.”

“Not that early.”

“No, babe, I did. I went there and finished sleeping. Right at my desk.”

I made fists and put them to his chest and pressed. “And that’s why I hate you. All the things you do and say and then something like that…”

“Look. I said you deserved roses instead of some cheap flower. Okay? You went out with that dork to make me jealous.”

“It worked.”

“Yeah, it did. Looking back, I shouldn’t have done that. But I did. Just like popping that sweet cherry of yours. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that either.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to ever remember me.”

“What is wrong with you?”

I knew what was wrong. I read the notes. It was Kate. She hurt him. She did something to him. He wrote her letters, but never sent them to her.

“I told you many times already,” Mason said.

“Then why are you here again? You got what you wanted from me. And truthfully, I got what I wanted from you. I can go out with anyone I want, fuck anyone I want, and not feel guilty about it. So thanks for that.”

“No,” he growled. “That’s not how it works. I’m still here.”

“Then do something about it, Mason.”

I was pushing his buttons. If I couldn’t get him to talk to me then I could at least get him to touch me. Pleasure me. Savor me. Before it all would go to hell.

A second later, Mason put me right up on the counter. He was still taller than me. He leaned forward, his lips almost touching mine. Then he broke away and kissed my neck. Over and over, down and around to the other side. My hands moved over his shoulders and I clawed at his t-shirt, tearing at it. It made me hate him even more that he could just wear a t-shirt and look like a hot dream.

I preferred him without a shirt on though.

I pulled and Mason leaned back, letting the shirt come up and over his head. I threw his shirt to the kitchen floor. My hands slithered down his perfect chest. Over his nipples. Weird, but it all turned me on. My pointer finger slid across the tattooed date over his heart.

Then I looked into his eyes.

Was the date related to Kate somehow?

As though he could read my mind, he pulled me off the counter. Then his hands went to work, ripping at my clothes. He moved with such a fierce force I was afraid he was going to literally tear my clothes off. Before I could get my shirt off, he had my bra unsnapped. His hands touched my breasts, those big manly rough hands against my soft and warm skin. My hard nipples at the mercy of the palms of his hands.

Then he kept going. Opening my pants and sliding his hands into both my pants and panties. He stripped me down and made me step out, so I was then wearing nothing but an ankle high pair of white socks.

Mason put me right back on the counter. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled. I felt the swell of his cock pushing against his jeans between my legs. He held me at my ribs. It was fucking hot. So fucking hot. The size of his hands. The strength. The protection. The way I could break into him a little and make him jealous so he’d fuck me.

“Do it,” he said. “You want my cock that bad, Violet? Get it. Pull my fucking cock out of my jeans and stuff your precious cunt with it.”

He was so vile yet sexy. My head and heart were twisted in a big knot between right and wrong. I swung my left hand and slapped him across the face. Then I clawed at his face.

“I hate that word,” I said.

“What word? Precious?”

He grinned.

His dimples sliced through any sense of normalcy that begged to come forward. The angel that was supposed to be on my shoulder, telling me what to do for the better… that angel was even turned on by Mason.

I was so screwed.

I grabbed for his cock over his jeans. The monster in hiding, I quickly opened his jeans, both hands going in to pull him free. The second my fingers touched the steel skin of his shaft, I quivered between my thighs and let out a sigh.

I stroked him, loving his perfect cock.

I pulled at him, looking down, watching as I was the one guiding him to me. My left hand grabbed the edge of the counter. My right hand held his cock and placed him against me. I moved him up and down, feeling him rubbing my sensitive and tender skin. Pulling, he thrust, pressing at me, starting to enter me.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, watching as the head of his cock disappeared.

When I looked back up at him again, Mason put a hand to the back of my neck. He pulled me forward, his mouth crashing to mine. At the exact same moment, he fucked forward, plowing all of himself inside me.

I had a sensation that I was going to fall back so I threw my hands back on the counter. I punched all the containers off the counter to the floor. For the first time, I didn’t give a damn about the mess. Fuck the mess. I was a mess, right? Mason was a mess, too. But we were together. One big giant mess… that felt so fucking good.

He started to fuck me, pulling and pushing, no longer acting with forgiving care because of my tender body.

The kiss broke and Mason put his forehead to mine. His hands moved to the small of my back and he held me there. Our eyes were locked tight, me the only one making a sound as I couldn’t fight the urge to moan.

He was just too big and it just felt too good.

Mason grunted and snuck a kiss from me. “Fuck, Violet. You’re a drug to me. That’s why I fucking left that morning.”

His cock pounded in and out of me.

“Wh… oh… Mason…”

“You fucking heard me,” he said. Then he kissed my neck. “If I stay too close, I get more addicted.”

My legs were still locked tight around him. I pulled with the heels of my feet, wanting more. Demanding more.

Fuck me, Mason, fuck me harder…

Mason sank deep into me and then held there. One hand moved up my back and the other down to my ass. He then backed up, taking me with him. Next thing I knew he was walking me through my own apartment. While he was still inside me. With each step I felt a tingling sensation racing through me.

He took me to my bed and dropped me down, never exiting me.

That’s when he started to fuck me again. His right hand cupped my left breast. His other hand pressed against my hip.

The faster he fucked the more I felt him swelling.

My toes curled hard as my body ached with pleasure. The feeling was nothing I ever felt. Not even the first time with Mason. The way he fucked me, his hands grabbing me, he was perfect. Everything, that every little dirty fantasy of mine, come to life.

Mason grunted when he started to come, holding inside me, coming down to my body, his mouth moving over my right breast. He sucked hard as he pumped himself slower, working with the intense throb of his cock. I could feel him shooting inside me, his warm release mixing with mine. Clinging to me. The first man to ever do that.

Maybe Mason could be the only man… but I knew better than to fall into that trap.

Mason pulled back and thrust forward even harder.

His body collapsed down to mine. I threw my arms around him and was suddenly holding him. He buried his face into my neck, breathing heavy. His hot breath tickled my neck, making me shiver, making me clench against his cock.

“Oh,” I groaned. “Mason… that was so good.”

“I know,” he said, pushing himself up.

I grabbed at his muscular back. “No. Don’t. Don’t just run away.”

“Violet, this isn’t going to be…”

“I get it,” I said. The sex high was really starting to kick in. I felt floaty and free. I felt so happy and so damn good. Like nothing bad could ever happen. Except that I was with a man who was bad. “I get what you’re feeling.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked me.

He pulled his cock out of me, leaving me gasping, my legs shaking and tingling.

He stood at the bed, tall, strong, naked.

I felt exposed, but ready to take Mason on.

I pointed to his chest. “That tattoo. I think I get it now.”

“How so?”

“Mason… who is Kate?”

I took a risk and sometimes it didn’t pay off.

He stepped back and I swore every muscle in his beautiful body flexed up.

“No.”

“I wasn’t trying to find anything,” I said.

“When?”

“I was going to steal a pair of your boxers,” I said. “Because you stole a pair of my panties. I wanted to get back at you. I didn’t mean to find those letters.”

“Fuck,” Mason growled.

He was out of the room a second later.

I hurried to get up out of the bed. I grabbed a robe off the back of the door and threw it on. As I pulled it shut, exiting my bedroom, Mason already had one leg in his jeans.

“Mason,” I yelled. “You can’t just run.”

“Watch me,” he said.

“You can’t do this to me. I want to know.”

He put his jeans and looked at me. “You want to know? This is about you, Violet. You wanting something from me. That’s what it always has been. Want, want, want.”

“Just like you wanted me to hate you,” I said. “So you fucked with me. Pushed at me. Tried to torture me. But it didn’t work. Because you like me. You like being with me. I know you do. And you’re afraid to open up to me. You told me about your parents, but nothing else. Why? Who was Kate? Why are you writing her letters? What date is tattooed on you?”

“That’s none of your goddamn business, Violet,” Mason growled. “I don’t give a shit what you want. How’s that sound?”

Mason grabbed his t-shirt and flung it over his shoulder. He moved to the door and I didn’t even bother to try and stop him.

He tore open the door and looked back at me one last time.

“Please,” I begged. “Mason, please. I’m not trying to snoop. I… I care about you.”

“Go back to just hating me,” he said. “It’s easier that way in life.”

He left and slammed the door behind him.

I looked around the apartment. There was food on the floor. My body tingled with Mason’s sex. My heart spun. I was shaking.

I never hated and cared so much at once.

I didn’t want to know about Mason’s past just to know. I wasn’t that kind of woman.

I wanted to know so I could save him.

Save the man I was starting to seriously fall for.