I glared at my the time and tapped my foot anxiously. That fucking slut was 30 minutes late.

"Out of all places you could have gone to."

I looked up and found Mason, wearing an apron, looking as annoyed as always.

"What are you doing here?"

Mason looked at me as if I were stupid and gestured towards his clothes. "I work here," he answered dryly.

I could feel my cheeks heating up as I looked down at my feet.

Oh.

"W-well, you never know, what if that's just the way you liked to dress." I almost slapped myself at my dumbass response.

Morgan, you fucking stupid piece of shit, why the fuck?

"Are you fucking stoned?" he questioned, he was obviously cringing at my last comeback, I could practically hear the humor in his voice.

"I-I'm waiting for someone," I kept going, hoping he didn't see the embarrassment written all over my face.

"Your boyfriend?" He trailed off while the corners of his mouth turned up in a smirk. He knew I had no boyfriend.

"This is why no one likes you," I hissed at him.

I expected him to roll his eyes and turn around but instead, he sat down and fiddled with a menu.

"You like me," he shrugged, almost as if he knew.

As if.

I rolled my eyes and slumped back in my seat, finally recovering from my last embarrassment. "No, I don't."

His eyes shimmered with mischief as he leaned over, and held my hands. "You don't?"

"N-no," I stanmered and drew my hands away quickly, "stop being stupid."

"Then why are you so nervous?"

For starters, he was extremely close to me.

I narrowed my eyes and pulled my hands away. "You can't treat customers like this."

He shrugged and pulled back as if nothing had happened. "My shift is over."

My phone buzzed and I looked down.

Couldn't make it, got grounded.

"Stupid Dee," I hissed as I tossed my phone on the table, "she always does this."

Mason raised his eyebrows and an amused smile made it's way on to his face. "Got ditched?" He asked as he took a bite of the donut I had ordered.

"Yeah," I said and I put my face in my hands, "she was my fucking ride home."

Mason raised his hands and raised his brow. "Calm down, fuckface, there's no need to swear."

"Shut up," I growled.

There was a small silence before he stood up. "I'll take you home," he said, making my head snap up.

Why was he being so nice to me?

"Really?"

"Yeah," he tossed the keys towards me, "I'll pay for your donut, just get in the car."

•••

"You're being nice," I finally said after we were both in the car, "why?"

He raised an eyebrow at me and gave me a look. "You want me to be a dick?"

"No!" I exclaimed abruptly, then brought my voice down after noticing how loud I'd been, "I'm just asking."

Mason didn't take his eyes off the road. "You helped me out even though I have been nothing but rude to you."

A smile made it's way onto my face as I scooted to the middle seat of his truck.

"Does that mean we're friends?"

His smile dropped and he clenched his jaw. "Don't push it, fuckface."

Okay, sheesh.

"You weren't supposed to turn here," I pointed out as I watched the street pass by.

"I know," he stated dryly.

I opened my mouth to say something but debated against it. I shouldn't annoy him when he's finally starting to warm up to me.

We suddenly stopped in front of a house and he turned to look at me pointedly. "Don't get off the truck and lock the doors."

I raised my brow but didn't question him.

Mason jumped off and went inside the house. I made sure to lock the door as he said.

The house looked pretty old. The paint was chipped and the grass was pretty much dead.

Was this his house?

A knock on the window snapped me out of my train of thought.

It was a middle aged man, wearing a wife-beater stained with God knows what and jeans. He had his mail on his arm, a cigarette in his hand, and a scowl on his face.

I rolled down the window and smiled, but his face didn't budge.

"You Mason's girlfriend?" He spoke finally as he blew the smoke in my face.

Okay, rude as fuck.

"No, sir, just a friend," I said and held the urge to grimace at the smell.

The man shook his head and flipped through his mail. "What's a girl like you hanging with him?"

A girl like me?

"Robert," Mason spoke through his teeth, which had Robert glaring.

In a flash, Robert was in front of Mason with a hand up in the air. "Don't you dare give me that tone, boy!"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mason's foster sister flinch, while Mason stood his ground.

Mason rolled his eyes and snorted. "Why should I listen to a deadbeat like you?"

Robert brought his hand down and punched him.

My eyes widened in horror as Mason fell and Robert climbed on top of him, throwing various punches.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do?

"Mason!" Michelle exclaimed as tears streamed down her face.

"Get back in the fucking house, Michelle! I'll fucking show you, you fucking bastard!" Robert growled as he threw more punches.

I ran out of the truck and watched as a very thin woman exited the house.

"Robert! Let go of him! The social worker is coming in a week!" She exclaimed and pulled Robert away from Mason.

I expected to find Mason in tears or passed out, but he still had a smug smirk on his face.

"You're slacking, Rob, I didn't even pass out this time," he scoffed, amusement in his tone.

I ran to Mason and helped him up with shaky hands.

This is fucking crazy.

Robert's face turned red but seemed to hold his temper this time. "I better not see you coming home tonight or I'll fucking kill you."

"I'm taking Michelle," Mason stated and started walking towards a very frightened Michelle.

"You're not taking anyone," Robert spat and pushed Mason back with force.

"Listen, you fucki-" Mason started but was cut off by Robert's flying fist.

Mason laughed bitterly as he spit out blood. "Is that all you've got?"

I went to stand in front of Mason as soon as Robert raised his fist again.

"Sir," I said, a bit shaken as well, "if you hit him one more time I swear I'll call the cops."

Robert lowered his fist but the scowl was still etched on his face. "Get the fuck out of here, Mason, and take your little slut too."

"I told you to stay in the fucking truck," Mason spat as he climbed onto the drivers seat.

His lip was busted, his eyes were swollen, and had cuts all over his face.

"Should you really be driving like that?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

Mason scowled and ignored my question. "Why did you get off the truck? What the fuck would I have done if he beat you too? You don't just jump in when a fucking drunk is beating someone, Morgan," Mason said, in a tone you wouldn't use when getting after a 5 year old.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do?" I yelled and threw my hands up in the air, "watch him punch you?"

"You were supposed to mind your own business and stay in the truck."

My eyes widened in disbelief. "Why are you even dealing with him? Why don't you just call the cops?"

"Don't worry about it," he growled as he tightened the grip on the wheel.

I sighed and slumped back in my seat, infuriated by the situation.

"You can stay at my house," I murmured softly.

Mason didn't even turn to look at me as he stopped the truck in front of my house. "No, thanks."

Fine.

I slammed his truck door shut and stormed into my house without saying another word.

Author's Note

Soooo, we see a bit more of Mason's house life 0.o his foster dad is a huge dick.

Leave me a fucking comment because I am very, very lonely.