Two broken hands. Fractured ribs. Every single finger broken. Fractured jaw.

Each second she spoke to me about the horrors of what Isaac Reynold, an 'innocent' went through, I felt my heart rate pick up speed. I couldn't imagine it, no matter how many times I told myself that this wasn't him I knew where all the signs were pointing.

'Because I'm the worst'

Those were his words.

In the moment I just thought he could have been teasing me, but even then I remember how a tingle was sent down my spine from the mere perplexity of Mason being tall, dark, handsome and reckless- dangerous even.

He's warned me before on what he would do to the men that touch me, how angry it makes him. He's said how it makes him want to kill them, but whenever those words flew out his mouth I thought they were only dramaticized exaggerations of a jealous and dominating man.

I never took him seriously.

But Isaac was different than Felix or Jaime, what happened between the two of us was never consensual, there were tears, screams, hopeless cries for help.

He saw I was drinking, waited until I was alone and tried to take advantage of me. I can still picture it; his face buried into the empty space between my jaw and my shoulder, when I close my eyes I can still smell the nauseating pungent stench of liquor seeping out from his pores, I can feel his perspiring hands force my body against the wall, fingers eagerly finding their way to the zipper of my skirt.

Never have I felt so weak in my entire life, so powerless.

If Mason hadn't shown up I know I wouldn't have been able to fight him off of me, he was too strong, and even though there's a very little part of me screaming in the back of my mind that it maybe could have in fact been possible if I put all my strength into it, the fear and panic weighing down on my body restrained every thought, every muscle and motive to help me do anything about it.

That night was only a couple days ago, and since then I have fallen so deep into whatever it is Mason and I have going on. That even given the facts it's still hard for me to gather how someone I've seen act so gentle, so softhearted and compassionate can also be so cruel.

I've been with Mason every single day since that night, and after my mind reels in all this new information I realize that this had to have happened last night.

Mason came back to Jessica's drunk last night.

He was even more affectionate than usual, the smile on his face was wider, eyes shined brighter than normal and the strawberry margaritas Freddie made him had given him the courage to open up a bit more to me without any mask or guard up.

He was so lovable.

So kind.

Surely this couldn't have happened last night, right?

Throughout the time he's been back he's been telling- no, insisting- that I really don't know anything about him. I originally thought he was just trying to make me get over the ghost of him from our past, but there's this sinking feeling inside me that those words had a truer meaning than I anticipated.

What if I really didn't know him like I thought I did?

How is it possible that the Mason who was attacking my face with kisses only two hours ago was the same Mason who broke someone's hands last night?

I feel like there's only one sane way for me to react to this, and that is to run for the fucking hills. But Mason doesn't make me sane in the slightest, and it's occurring to me just how fucked up I really must be in order to not be scared by any of this.

Because I'm not.

I know his intentions started out pure and genuine, he feels the need to protect me, shield me from everything this cruel world has to offer but he can't. He doesn't need to. I wish he'd understand how much his actions affect people- affect me.

I want to be honest with him, let him in and see the most vulnerable sides of me but how can I when there's always going to be a risk of him going out and handling the situations himself? If this is how he handled Isaac, how am I supposed to tell him about Aiden?

I don't want to keep things from him, these past couple of days we've been getting along so well because of the newfound honesty in our arrangement. I trust him, but this entire situation has made me question just how much I should.

I can't keep getting into my head over this, I need to talk to him about it. Work things out with him by communicating and hopefully it doesn't blow up in my face.

I had messaged Jessica about thirty minutes ago, asking if I can sleep over again even though everytime I do she reminds me how there's no need for me to ask anyway. Mason's expecting me to come back and I know that Jessica is out with Natalie, Alec and Corey so right now is the best to do it.

But before that I let myself relax, instead of driving my mind absolutely crazy I give myself time to let this sink in, adjust to the new information and come up with a plan. I don't want shit to hit the fan and when it comes down to confrontation I know Mason can make me feel batshit crazy so I need to go about this carefully.

No arguments. Just a simple talk.

And after coming up with just exactly how I'm going to handle this, a wicked smirk grows upon my lips.

He's in for it.

❀

After stepping into the threshold I take in my surroundings to find that Mason must be upstairs in his room. I never texted him to let him know that I'm coming, but he knew I was returning later in the day. Before leaving my house I didn't neglect to ask Jessica when she'd be home, I knew what I wanted to do and I couldn't with her right down the hall from it all.

I take my time walking up the stairs, each step of mine slower than the other so I can at least attempt to calm my pounding nerves. I've never done anything like this before and I know Mason is going to absolutely fucking hate it which only makes me want to do it even more.

Surprisingly enough, I love pushing his buttons.

My hand reaches the door knob and I use a minute to pause, take a deep breath and relax.

Despite the stirring anxiety inside me that's hoping all goes well, my hand turns the knob before my mind is able to process it. Walking inside the room, the uneasiness is extinguished from my body when I find it completely empty.

I take this time to grab what I need for later, attempting to go as fast as I can while also trying to be quiet at the same time. Once I'm done, my feet walk me over to his bed where I casually sit, waiting for him to return.

The sound of running water coming out of the bathroom snaps me out of my thoughts, and seconds later the door is swung open revealing a freshly showered man in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

His upper body remains bare for those dark intricate tattoos of his on full display for me to see. Sometimes I forget just how many he has, I'm so used to seeing them now that I often fail to take them in. The blank ink trails down his forearms, the muscles on his chest, across every defined curvature of his abdomen ending right above the path of dark hair that disappears above the hem of his sweatpants.

The darkening sky outside neglects to show the small lingering beads of water evident on his skin. However, the two table lamps shining bright on the nightstands bring just enough light for me to visibly see the glowing, dewiness of the surface, the wet hair of his dampened and glistening before me, curls flattened a bit but tousled every which way right in front of me.

"You alright baby? You're glitching." Mason's voice breaks me out of my thoughts, bringing my eyes up towards his piercing green ones.

Oh fuck, I really need to at least try to control myself around him.

He chuckles at his own joke, turning around to close his bathroom door behind him and when he does my eyes widen in surprise. Right when my eyes come into contact with his back I notice dark red scratches ingrained into his skin.

I follow the tracks, they're right on top of his shoulder blades, five marks on each one a little further apart than the other exactly where my hands were on his back earlier.

A wave of guilt washes over me, a tightness in my throat accompanying it. They look so painful, each little scratch darker, deeper than the other and I force my eyes away, not being able to look at it any longer.

"Admiring your work?" He speaks, and I'm sure there's shame written all over my face but when I meet Mason's eyes they're bright and gleaming, and I know he's entertained by it all.

My cheeks flood with color, "Does it hurt?"

The smirk on his lips grows as he steps forward, encroaching my personal space right when his knees force my legs apart, walking closer to me up until his body towers right above mine.

My throat hitches when his fingers graze the shell of my ear before he tucks some of my loose strands of hair behind it and leans down. Upon my own volitation I don't hesitate to shift closer as he focuses his heavy gaze on my parted lips.

"I like the pain." His breath that fans the tip of my nose smells of mint, while soap and aftershave cling onto his body like second skin a few inches from mine. "Now close that mouth of yours before I decide to keep it busy."

I immediately clamp my mouth shut, suddenly growing a bit embarrassed that it's been open for that long and praying that he didn't just watch as it salivated right in front of him.

He takes this opportunity to lean into me further, trying to finally greet me with a kiss from him and right when his lips are milliseconds away from hitting mine I boldly move my head to the side, knowing that if his wishes are accomplished I'll lose the determination to do what I have planned.

His body freezes for a moment, both shocked and angry that I've denied him when he grabs my chin, thumb resting right against my jawline while his index finger grips the other side, coercing my head back to face his.

His jaw ticks as he studies me, those darkening eyes of his boring into every nonchalant feature on my face.

"You're angry with me." His voice is calm, more collected than I imagined it would be and for a second I question if his words were directed towards me or if he's just thinking out loud.

He removes his hands, and shamefully the heat that was once scattering over my body has now dissipated, leaving me cold. His tongue swiftly runs over his top teeth, muscles contracting when he stands up straight and my eyes follow every movement in front of me.

He lets out a heavy breath of air, "I've done something to upset you."

Ding ding ding

He looks at me one more time and I become more conscious of the fact that I still haven't said anything. To my surprise, he takes a step back, and another until he's right in front of his bathroom door once again. I respect his choice for giving me a little bit of distance between us, it makes it so much easier to think clearly when he's not inches away.

Sighing, he speaks up again, "Well go on, out with it."

Silence blankets us for a few seconds, the tone in his voice didn't go unnoticed and I remind myself of the plan before considering my next words carefully and giving in.

"Have you seen Isaac again? Since Corey's party?"

I look at him, my eyes scanning for even the slightest change of expression on his face but I'm left with nothing. He's composed, completely unaffected by my words, the same confident aura that consistently surrounds him unscathed.

I don't know how to make sense of what I'm feeling, but looking at him across from me unfazed by my question must mean he had to have nothing to do with what happened, right?

Right?

"Has he said anything to you?"

My eyes narrow into him, answering a question with a question... motherfucker.

"No." I shake my head, dismissing the thought of Isaac ever contacting me.

I try to bite my tongue, refrain from snapping or saying anything else so he's able to be honest with me on his own. But it only takes two seconds for it to come out of my mouth like word vomit.

"But it's not like he'd be able to get much out with his jaw wired shut." Right when the words are out I need to forcibly abstain from facepalming myself from unconsciously matching the bitter tone in his voice.

The curves at the end of his lips raise slightly in amusement, strong arms of his crossing against his chest, back tilting down a bit to lean toward the door while his gaze in me deepens, suddenly looking a little too unperturbed on the subject of Isaac.

"What are you getting at?"

"I just want to know if-"

He interrupts me, "If I snuck into his house, waited for him to come home, sat him down, tied him up and broke every limb in his body he touched you with, is that it?"

The weight of his words feel heavy on my shoulders. He continues to look at me as if he had one nothing wrong, that my resentment towards his actions are unnecessary and it only adds to the uneasiness in my gut.

He doesn't even blink as he watches me in front of him, taking in my lips parted in absolute disbelief. How can the man before me be able to commit something so... vengeful?

To supposedly do what he just mentioned: sit someone down, tie them up and break every finger, each hand, then come back to me later in the night and seem so unbothered and not the least bit troubled by what he had just done.

I'm unable to hide the tremble in my voice, "So it was you?"

I shouldn't be surprised, but my heart falls to the floor regardless.

He doesn't say anything to this, and I'm not sure if that's for the best or worst. I shake my head, still taken back by all of this even though I came to him today knowing what the chances were that he had every part in what happened.

I slowly bring my eyes back to his, "How could you do that to him? You sought him out Mason, and then beat him to a fucking pulp-"

"Yes, I did and without remorse."

His words are laced with spite and hit me like a harsh reality. It's true, I can see it on his face that he doesn't have not a single drop of empathy for what he has done. When he came home last night I never thought to look at his knuckles for any signs of evidence that something else had happened because the gashes from the bar fight from the night before were still apparent on his skin.

And then there were the marks from the previous night as well, when he shattered the mirror in his room with his bare hands.

'Does that impress you? The way every time we're with him he gets himself into a fight'

Aiden's words uninvitingly reel themselves back into my mind. At first I thought he was just trying to turn me against him, but as much as I hate to admit it, he was right when it came to the fighting aspect of things- Mason is more violent than I originally predicted.

And then there was the nagging thought in my mind screaming at me that Mason went behind my back, and that if it weren't for Amy I never would have known about any of this.

I told him not to go, before we went to the gym I begged him and yet he still did as he pleased.

"You told me you wouldn't go." I croak, my voice so small the words are barely audible.

"I wouldn't go then, I made no promises on what I'd do afterwards." He says to me, oblivious to the chaos roiling through me, and he shrugs his shoulders, irritation rising in his next words, "Why do you even fucking care about what happens to him after what he did to you?"

"I don't care about him, I care about you and you went behind my back."

I know that a part of him handled Isaac for me, but I'm very attentive to the fact that it was mainly about him. I've never been familiar with violence, he knows this is something I would by no means ask of him to do, it isn't me at all.

"To teach him a lesson." He says, as if he's finishing the last sentence I just spoke and I take a deep breath through my nose, trying like hell to not overreact. "I had to knock some sense into the fucking coward who tried to force himself on you-"

"With violence?"

I've never been afraid of Mason, I've told him many times and I stand by that. I despise that I'm keeping what happened with Aiden from him. I want to tell him, I want to tell someone that it happened but I can't deny that there's some reason inside of me that still feels the need to protect him from the repercussions Mason deems fit.

I don't want to share it with Mason just to find Aiden in the hospital the next morning. He needs to know that he can't just break someone's hands for something that had to do with me, and come back like nothing ever happened.

If this is going to work between us we need to trust each other.

He takes my expression in, running a quick hand through his damp hair while he closes his eyes, his jaw set hard at my distaste from all of this.

"Isabelle," He begins, bringing my attention back to him as he repositions his body into an upright position away from the door, "If you're here with me, you're going to see sides of me you aren't going to like. Violence isn't new to me, it never has been. Fuck, I hurt people for a living, it's what I do. So yes, I used violence, and I'd do it again and again if it gets the message across."

'Violence isn't new to me, it never has been. Fuck, I hurt people for a living, it's what I do."

He's right, the man before me has a different relationship with violence than I'll ever have. I always assumed that him doing his underground fighting was probably best for him, a way to take out his anger. But now I'm starting to realize that if anything it's just feeding his ego and giving him the confidence he needs to do it on his own.

It's hard for me to comprehend any of this because before Mason came back into town I had never had to deal with any of this before. The house I grew up in was peaceful, quiet and calm, never loud or chaotic in any way, so hearing Mason act out from something that happened to me requires an adjustment.

He had good intentions, I know he did.

If he had been honest with me, showed at least some compassion maybe it'd be easier to make sense of all of it. But he has none, and the lack of emotion he's giving me only makes things more difficult.

There's another long pause between us, the hardened exterior of his slowly fading away from my reaction to all of this.

"Come here." He says to me, voice coming out as a beg and I narrow my eyes into him, body unmoving. "Come here, baby. Come to me, please."

Reluctantly, I stand from his bed, looking at him with the heavy stilled silence blanketing the room. When I finally make it to him, his body a few inches away from mine, the tension between us is high and stifling, automatically igniting every nerve inside of me.

Those darkened eyes of his have softened, and it occurs to me that he still has yet to blow up over my questions. Strangely enough, he's open to talking to me about this, and if I look closely I can see a glint of guilt in his eyes, not from his own wrongdoings but instead, how they've affected me.

My heart constricts when he slowly lifts his hand up, cautiously cupping the side of my face to bring me closer to him. He watches me wordlessly, a raging conflict in those entrancing green eyes of his.

"This is who I am, baby." He murmurs, his voice slow and my skin prickles from the warmth of his face so close to mine. "This is all I can give you. Someone who's overprotective, arrogant, jealous..." My breath gets caught in my throat when he leans down, his nose and lips brushing the shell of my ear right before he whispers, "Maybe even a little bit crazy."

Oh God, I'm supposed to angry and he decides to pull this shit

Stand your ground stand your ground stand your ground stand your-

He dips his head down, flutters his lips over my uneven pulse before planting a soft, gentle kiss on the skin and my body speaks for me before my mind gets the chance to, letting a breathless whimper escape my lips and a breath of air hits my neck, Mason smirking right below me and I mentally curse myself.

Fuck

He leans back up, looking down at me with a satisfied grin before he slings one arm around my waist, fingers burning into the material of my clothes, hips arching into each other while he pushes my chest closer towards his own.

"Who'd spend every waking moment pleasuring you, satisfying you in the ways only I know best." He continues hoarse and teasingly slow.

He uses his free hand to go back to gripping my chin, forcing me to catch the fire that burns in his eyes, hardened jaw, the smouldering shadow darkening his face and the uneasiness in my gut is instantly replaced with heat.

"But don't forget that that's the same person who'd break every bone in another man's body, maybe kill them if need be for hurting you, touching you... Fuck, even another man laying a breath on you would land him in deep shit."

Oh Mason, such a poet

I watch him as he closes the distance completely between us, tilting my head up while he arches down further.

"Scared yet?"

A gush of breath seeps past my lips when he plants a kiss on the corner of my mouth, trailing from my cheeks all the way down to my neck, not leaving a single patch of skin left untouched within his reach.

"No." I answer him, my body frozen in place while he continues to attack my neck with his affections.

I struggle a bit to keep my voice steady, making sure not to confirm his success in distracting me from the subject. My lungs nearly forget how to breathe properly when he plants his wet soft lips against the column of my neck, kissing and sucking right under my jawline, nearing me even closer to the edge of insanity.

"Will you let me kiss you?" He rasps into my ear and I have to bite down on my bottom lip in order to keep me from waving a white flag in the air and surrendering.

Although he's kissing my neck, I know he's still bothered that I've denied him the right to kiss my lips. But nonetheless, I'll give myself the opportunity to tease him since that's the entire reason why I've returned tonight.

The tone in my voice is displeased, "I don't like surprises, Mason."

He stops what he's doing, releases his hand from my waist, drops his head into my neck so that it's resting on top of my shoulder and groans.

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?" He whines, his warm breath hitting my neck with each word he speaks.

"I trust you, Mason, but don't go circling around me again, putting people in the hospital-"

"He should be lucky he's there." He interrupts me, standing up straight to fully face me. "He's got a warm bed, people to wait on him hand and foot-"

"I thought you said you were going to be better." I remind him, recalling the memories of him promising me he'd try.

I almost feel a little guilty saying the words because I know he has been trying. Opening himself up to me, sleeping with me, letting me in to see sides of himself he's hidden away in the dark for so long. But it's hard to not let those moments cloud my judgment, especially when it comes to things like this.

I trust him. I'm falling for him way harder than I imagined I would, and it pains me to say that the dominant, protective side of him sparks something deep inside of me that I'm still not quite familiar with.

But if I want to tell him about Aiden I need to make sure he's not going to break any of his bones afterwards.

He rolls his lips into his mouth while regret rips through me, hoping my words haven't hurt him.

"I am." He finally says, "I went easy on him. If it were up to me he'd be six feet under for touching you but he's not."

My eyebrows knit together, "So am I supposed to be grateful?"
Wrinkles capture his forehead for a second before relaxing, the husk of his fingertips dragging across the skin of my bare forearms, returning those soft and gentle touches that always find a way to ease the tension weighing down on my chest.

He looks at me deeply, no anger or impatience for me in his eyes and I already find myself forgetting what I was mad at in the first place.

"You can be angry, scream at me if that's what you'd like. But it wouldn't matter to me because you're safe. He will never touch you again." His one hand continues their movements of giving me reassuring touches against my arm while the other raises toward my face, tucking a few strands behind my ear and leaving his palm there to rest along my cheek.

He continues, his voice soft and sweet, "You're not going to get an apology out of me. I may have been afraid to stand up to something like this years ago but I'm not anymore. I'm only trying to protect you. Don't make it difficult for me to keep you safe from harm baby, because I'll do it anyways. So just... Let me, alright?"

My eyes flutter closed when he leans in and kisses the center of my forehead, the heat of it still lingering deep within my skin once he presses the top of his head against mine.

He spears me with those enchanting eyes of his while whispering to me, his voice husky and low, "Let me take care of you."

Warmth is spread throughout my entire body, too many butterflies to count swarming around in my belly, my skin his fingertips are touching suddenly on fire as the magnetism between us pulls me even deeper, drowning me into him.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" I taunt, holding my bottom lip between my teeth.

The chuckles coming from his lips force warm air onto the tip of my nose, unconsciously making the corners of my mouth raise into a smile.

"So I've been told." The tip of my nose where his breath was fanning is given a short, gentle kiss. "How about I make it up to you, hmm?"

Time for my plan to come into play

I lift myself up on my tiptoes, pushing him down further so I'm able to whisper into his ear.

"Get on the bed."

His eyebrows raise, devilish grin of his returning, "Mmm, I like where this is going."

You won't in a few minutes

I shoot him an innocent smile, gesturing over to the bed, "Sit."

He gives me a suspicious look, but doing as I say anyways. I instruct for him to lean his back against the headboard, sit in an upright position and he obliges in my commands, not finding it even the slightest bit questionable that after the shit he just pulled I'd want him on the bed for me.

Men

So predictable

Right when he's in the correct position I follow him, getting myself situated and straddle his lap. He wastes no time to attempt to secure his arms around my waist, but I grab them, keeping his hands in my own.

"What are you doing, baby?" He looks up at me and asks, his eyes dripping with the readiness he has to disintegrate my panties into shreds and everything in me can't wait to squash it.

I inch myself closer to him, "You want to make it up to me?"

He nods slowly, a suppressed smile tugging at the ends of his lips and I decide to lengthen the process to do what I want with him, taking this time to toy with him and blatantly enjoy the sight in front of me.

His bare back is pressed against the pillows on his bed, body shifted a bit while the toned planes of his abs, dark hair creeping down his lower abdomen are out for my eyes to admire. It's harder than I imagined it would be to keep the expression on my face neutral, but I can't get distracted.

Eyes on the prize

My hips just so happen to wiggle under him and his breath gets caught in his throat.

I smile.

"Close your eyes." I whisper to him, and he immediately cocks a brow at me. "Please."

After a few seconds of him scanning my face for any trace of evidence on where I'm going with this he finally oh so slowly closes his eyes for me. I muster up the courage to lift my hips up slightly, giving myself just enough room to take out the handcuffs I had snatched from his nightstand earlier while he was in the bathroom.

I almost fumble them in my sweaty palms but thankfully grab them right before it hits his lap.

Phew

Right when the furry handcuffs I purchased earlier hit his wrists he opens his mouth to speak, fortunately keeping his eyes closed still.

"What are you-"

"Shhh," I move my hips again to distract him, rolling my eyes over the fact that that's enough to make him forget what he was about to say.

And right when I secure the handcuffs around his wrists, his eyes snap open.

He looks down at what I had just done, clenching his jaw and flicking his angered eyes back towards me. The innocent, amused and deceptively aroused expression on my face has dropped, hiding how fast my heart is thumping from excitement.

"What the fuck? Take me out of these handcuffs, Isabelle. Now."

"No." I deadpan, putting his chin into that firm grip he just loves to do me so I can force his agitated eyes closer to mine.

His nostrils are flaring, jaw set so tight I think it just might hurt.

"You went behind my back Mason." I teasingly brush my lips against his, and despite the fact that he isn't in the best mood anymore his lips still faintly part to grant me access.

Our breaths mix together when I rock against him more, a sharp exhale leaving his lips and hitting my own while I shift over his already hardened erection right below me.

And right when I have him where I want him I whisper, "And you're going to be punished for it."

❀❀❀

A.N//

Hello readers!

I apologize for making you guys wait almost two weeks for an update, I've been in my head about this story lately and had zero motivation to write. Thank you for guys for commenting, sending me cute little messages and supporting me. 

Also, thank you so much for the 300K! I can't believe it. 

Don't forget to comment & vote :)

-yourunknownteen