Professor Cline: Redeemed (Professor #2) (18 page)

Mason

Nineteen years old

All those girls. All those lives ruined.

I was weak.

How did I ever think I could protect Sophia when I couldn’t even protect myself?

They did exactly what I’d been denying all along. They used me, just like they used her. We had both been trapped in a web of lies. The only one of us who had stayed in reality was her. She knew her fate and dealt with what I was unable to.

I was disgusted with myself.

Donicko liked to play games, but I never knew his end goal. What was the point of showing me that room? All those girls waiting to be degraded, viewed as if they were some piece of meat.

But hadn’t that been what I was a part of? Hadn’t I violated my fair share? I’d done this to nine girls.

NINE!

I was responsible for nine girls who would probably never grow into women. Who would never get married. Or God forbid, bear children.

I lured them to their demise.

I was the monster.

I sat on my bed, tears running down my face. In this moment, I missed my mother. If she’d lived, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be the evil I’d become. Sometimes, I imagined we’d gotten away that night and moved somewhere far, far away. We were happy.
I
was happy.

That wasn’t the path laid out before me, though. My mother used to tell me I was destined for greatness. But this? This wasn’t greatness.
I’m the devil’s masterpiece, your greatest sin dressed in fine clothing.
Somewhere deep inside, the evil was smiling. It had always been there, hiding, waiting for the one trigger that would set him free. Waiting behind all the hugs, laughs, and ‘I love you’s’ that surrounded me as a child.

I didn’t understand it. I didn’t know where those feelings came from. Why couldn’t I be normal?

Leaning forward, I grabbed the .45 that had been sitting there for hours, taunting me. I’d stolen it from John’s office. He’d always kept it in the bottom desk drawer and when he’d left for the day, I went in there and took it. My first thought was to use it on John. I’d wait until he came home then pull the trigger, but I couldn’t. A quick death was too easy for him.

Then I decided I’d use it on myself. My mind was spiraling out of control. I’d paced my room with the gun still in my hand, trying to figure out why I’d went in search for it in the first place.

I was losing my fucking mind.

I’d pounded myself in the forehead with the palm of my hand then set the gun down on my side table. I’d been staring at it ever since.

I wrapped my hand around the handle and checked to make sure the safety was on.

It wasn’t heavy to handle and easy to maneuver, but could I use it? I’d never shot a gun before. I could feel the perspiration on my forehead, and my hands were getting clammy.

There was no way I could do this.

Did I want to end my life? It would serve me right after everything I’d already done. If those girls were to come face to face with me after what I’d done to them, they wouldn’t hesitate. I was sure of it. They’d put a bullet right between my eyes.

But me?

No. I was too much of a pussy to take my own life.

What would my mother think? What would she say if she could see me now?

I placed the gun back down on the table and retreated until my back hit the wall. I slid down, wrapped my arms around my legs and rocked back and forth.

It wasn’t my time. I still had things to do. I didn’t understand why all of this was happening to me, but right then, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that I needed to get my head on straight.

I may not be able to do it now, but one day, John will get what’s coming to him. And Donicko? Him and his fucking Black Widow Empire will be burned to the ground.

Mason

My night consisted of alcohol, alcohol, and more alcohol. I knew I was self-medicating, but I didn’t give a fuck.

I was numb, and that’s what I’d wanted.

I didn’t want to feel. I needed time to process all the things that had been going on in my life. I’d shut the world out completely, all except one person.

Luke.

After I’d cut my thigh open, I knew I’d need to call him. I had no other choice. The cut continued to bleed, and I couldn’t stop it. I sat there staring at it, the pain coursing through my body. It wasn’t bleeding enough to end my life, but it was a significant amount. I waited to call until I couldn’t take the pain any longer.

I wrapped my thigh with a towel, grinding my teeth together as I tied it into a knot. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I grabbed the scotch and headed into my bedroom.

I hobbled over and reached for the receiver on my side table before slowly lowering myself onto the bed.

I didn’t want to call Luke. The thought of him coming over and seeing me like this again made me feel more shame than I’d felt before. But I had no choice. I either called him or I went to the hospital.

I dialed his number and waited.

“Yo, man, what’s up? You coming out tonight or what?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m downtown. Where are you?”

I bowed my head and bit my lips together as pain shot down my leg. I looked at the cut and knew it was bad. I knew I should go to the hospital, but I didn’t want any of this to be on record. I didn’t want anyone else to see my scars.

“I need you to swing by. Soon.”

I heard him sigh, and shame and guilt washed over me. I was pathetic. How did I let my life get this way? I couldn’t keep involving him; he’d eventually pull away from me, realizing how much of a burden I truly was.

“Mason, you there?”

I zoned out and didn’t realize he’d asked me a question.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“What’d you do, Mase? Is this like before?”

I ran a hand down my face and let out a breath.

“Looks worse. Not in the same spot. It’s on the front of my thigh.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. “You’ve got to stop doing this shit, man. I can’t keep coming to your rescue like this. More than likely, you’re going to need a real doctor, but I know you won’t fucking go.”

I didn’t say a word because he was right. I had no right to put this on him. I was a shitty friend.

“You’re right. Go back to your night. I’ll get it taken care of. “

“Mase.” He sighed. “Shut the fuck up. I’m on my way.

I lay there for an hour, drinking the scotch to the point of almost passing out when I finally heard the door open.

“Fuck, Mason.” I heard him sigh as he entered my room.

I slowly peeked open my eyes to see him standing there, brow furrowed with his kit in hand.

He walked slower and set his bag on the bed beside me, then snatched the scotch out of my hand.

“How much of this have you had?”

I closed my eyes, unable to keep them open.

“Enough,” I mumbled.

“Good. Because this is bad, man. It’s going to leave one hell of a scar.”

I scoffed and tilted my head to the side. Like I cared about another scar. It was just another reminder of how fucked-up I really was.

I tilted my head to the side as Luke got to work. I could hear him talking, but nothing was registering. Memories of Sophia flowed through my mind, ones I’d forgotten about, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

I blacked out.

~*~

Seventeen years old

I’d woken up late on Sunday morning, completely messing up my morning routine. I usually always worked out, showered, then went downstairs to grab some breakfast and bring it down to Sophia. But this morning I’d overslept.

I tried not to think about why I was so tired, but the guilt weighed heavy on my mind. I never understood how everything flowed so easily for me when I was doing it, but as soon as I had time to think about what I was doing, the guilt would always slide through.

It didn’t help that I immediately thought of Sophia when I walked through the doors either, but she was my reason. I was ruining lives to save hers. She was what mattered.

I’d asked myself on numerous occasions if it was worth my soul. Was it worth signing my life over to the devil? My answer was always the same.

Yes.

Heading downstairs, I looked to the right toward the hallway leading to John’s office and saw Donicko walking out of the door which led down to Sophia.

“Hey!” I yelled, running the rest of the way down the stairs. “What the hell were you doing down there?”

Donicko greeted me with a smile. “Good morning, Mason. It’s good to see you, too.”

I frowned at him. “I didn’t say it was good to see you. Now tell me why you were down there.”

He chuckled and placed his hands in his pockets. “Just checking on my merchandise, boy. No need to worry. She’s waiting for her breakfast.”

That pissed me off. She wasn’t his damn merchandise.

“She’s not yours, and she never will be.”

“Then who’s is she, boy? Are you finally going to claim her as yours?” He laughed. “Because I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“I’m going to get her out of here one way or another.”

“You can try, my boy, you can try. But you won’t get far.”

He turned and walked off, and I let out a heavy sigh as I turned toward the back of the house to the kitchen.

It’s the things he said that always made me wonder why I was doing what I was doing. Did I truly believe they would eventually let Sophia go? No, but deep down I’d hate myself more than I already did if I didn’t try.

I entered the kitchen and walked to the island where my food was already laid out for me. Mrs. Stein knew what I grabbed every morning and tried to have it out for me before I came down. She never asked me why I took so much food.

I placed the breakfast tray on the counter and piled on the strawberry Pop Tarts (Sophia’s favorite), my omelet that was on the hot plate, a glass of milk and one of orange juice, a banana, a bowl of strawberries, and yogurt. It was a lot of food, but I managed to carry it all the way down to Sophia without dropping a thing.

I set the tray on the floor and knocked lightly before I entered the room. It was something I always did to let her know it was me who was entering. It wasn’t something I had to do, but I at least wanted her to have some type of privacy.

“Good morning,” I stated as I entered the room, placing the tray on the small table on the far wall where we always had our breakfast.

I heard the toilet flush, then the water run, before Sophia finally made an appearance.

She looked toward me with a small smile then headed over to get her food. I knew something was wrong, but I was never sure how to ask her about it. I didn’t like being forceful with her, but sometimes it was the only way I could get things out of her.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” she stated as she grabbed her Pop Tarts and walked over to the bed to sit down.

I looked her over to see if I was missing anything. She looked the same as she did the night before when I’d brought her dinner. Her hair was in a ponytail at the back of her neck, and she wore a white t-shirt (that I tried my best not to look through) and baggy sleep pants. Clothes I was able to bring down to her after three months of being in this hellhole.

Then I noticed the skin around her neck was blotchy.

I grabbed the glass of milk and walked over to the bed, setting the glass down on the side table before I took a seat next to her.

“If nothing happened, why is your neck red?”

She lifted a hand to her neck and turned her body.

“Probably because I’m hot.”

She was lying. I didn’t understand why she always insisted on lying to me.

“Sophia, just tell me, please. I saw Donicko walking out. What did he want? Did he do that to you?” I asked, holding down my anger as I pointed to her neck.

She stared down at her hands, holding onto her unopened Pop Tart.

“I’m never going to see my family again, am I?” she asked quietly.

I let out a breath and sighed, looking away from her to collect my thoughts, because how do you answer something like that?

“I promise you, Sophia,” I said, looking back at her. “One day, I
will
get you out of here.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and I hated the fucking sight. I didn’t know what to do or how to comfort her.

“What did he say to you?” He had to have said something to trigger the thoughts of her family again. It had been a while since she’d brought them up.

She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s talk about something else. What are your plans for the day?”

I shook my head, annoyed, because this was a game for her. She knew I wouldn’t back down, but she’d try to change the subject anyway.

“Sophia, just tell me what happened.”

She snapped her head my way. “Why do you even want to know?” she asked angrily.

“I just do. I’m not going to stop asking, so you might as well just let it out. We go through this all the time. I need to know.”

And I did. It fueled my hatred. My need for revenge.

She shrugged and tossed her food on the side table before pulling herself back on the bed to sit against the headboard.

“What’s done is done. There’s nothing you can do about it, so just leave it be.”

I furrowed my brow. “What’s done is done?” I questioned. “What exactly did he do?”

I looked down at her neck again and leaned in close. The closer I got, the better I was able to see the marks. Rage grew in the pit of my stomach, and I wasn’t able to contain it.

I flew off the bed and started pacing the room, gritting my teeth as I spoke my next words.

“Did he choke you?”

She brought her hand up to her throat and rubbed it while shaking her head.

“Then why do you have welts the shape of fingers on your neck?”

Tears rolled down her face again, and she wiped them away. “He didn’t come to me this morning,” she stated as she furrowed her brow and examined her hands. “He came in last night. He said you’d be out late and he wanted to chat.”

I kept pacing as she talked, absorbing everything she was saying.

“And?” I asked, looking her over.

She looked up at me with a blank expression.

“He said he was here to test out his merchandise. He didn’t do much talking.”

I jolted back at her words and placed my hands on my hips as I stopped pacing. We stared at each other as the realization of what she was saying finally hit.

All the rage that had built in my core exploded, and I couldn’t hold it in. I ran my fingers through my hair then turned toward the wall and punched a hole through the drywall, letting out a scream of frustration.

I pulled my arm back and shook out my hand.

“Mason!” she yelled as she ran to my side. “Please don’t. It’s not worth it.”

I turned and looked at her to see the tears rolling down her face.

This was who I’d become. I caused this. Wasn’t I doing the same thing to other women? Wasn’t I using and abusing them just like Donicko was Sophia?

I spun away from her, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I needed to get myself together. This wasn’t about me. This was about her.

Turning toward her, I grabbed her and pulled her in to my arms, wrapping them around her tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, holding back my own tears of frustration. “I promise I’ll get you out of here, Sophia. I’ll find a way. I won’t let him touch you again.”