Mask | ✓

14

"I think it's been decided. You're terrible at board games."

"Shut up," I scowled at Tatum. "I've never played the majority of this shit before."

"Sounds like excuses."

"Sounds like you want to get your ass kicked."

Tatum stared at me with an amused expression. After he told me that we would 'find something to do', he led me to a closet at the end of the hall. A closet that had been filled with many board games. They were stacked neatly on the shelves, but it was clear that they hadn't been used in years.

Tatum let me decide what we were playing, however, either after hours of different games, I'd still yet to win one. As my frustration grew, so did Tatum's amusement. It was clear that the bastard was enjoying watching me struggle.

"I'm sorry," Tatum told me.

"No, you're not."

"You're right I'm not," he chuckled. "I've never met someone as bad as you. It's quite hilarious."

"Fuck off. Board games aren't something I play often."

Tatum shifted and repositioned himself on the couch. We moved to the living room after getting the games.

"So tell me, what do you do?"

"What?"

"At the Silver Night," he repeated. "What's your definition of fun as a kid?"

My definition of fun?

"Fun for us was more like going out to explore or watching the warriors train and betting on which would win. It was challenging each other whether it be to a race or a fight and making the loser do something stupid."

The Howling Night and Silver Night were completely different from each other. It seemed with each conversation Tatum and I had with one another, that was becoming increasingly apparent.

"And you?" I said. "I didn't take you as the type to find board games fun."

Tatum smiled at that. A warmness overtook his green eyes and they almost seemed lighter.

"Board games were something I played often with my parents when I was younger. They're not for everyone, but they're something that I'll always enjoy."

"So why'd you stop?"

Tatum's smile dimmed slightly. "Things change as we get older. Responsibilities grow and the people we have around us change too."

The sadness that always seemed to be there returned and I immediately regretted asking. Just as quick as it appeared though, Tatum quickly hid it.

"People may leave, but as time goes on, new people enter our lives. We meet so many people in our lives, but the important ones — those who are meant to be there — those are the ones who stay."

Green eyes stared at me in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you to say something like that."

My gaze diverts from his. "It's something Nolan said to me a long time ago."

It was something that would always be with me. Something that would never leave my mind. I could still remember the day; standing there as rain poured down violently drenching the two of us. I could still remember the way Nolan's arms wrapped around me, but rather than filling me with warmth, the coldness seemed to grow stronger.

"That makes more sense," Tatum said, knocking me from my thoughts.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He stared at me, almost teasingly. "You just seem more like the type to say, 'fuck those who leave' and forget about them."

"Leave it to you to ruin the mood."

Tatum rolled his eyes. "Compared to what I deal with from you, I think it's fair."

"Shut up and let's pick another game."

I rose from my spot on the couch and Tatum did the same. I moved to walk back up the stairs and to the game closet, but the sound of Tatum stopped me.

"Hey, Nixon?" I looked over at him. "Thanks for that. Maybe you do have some redeeming traits to you after all."

"Redeeming traits?" I repeated.

"Well, you have quick temper, your social skills are lacking, and you're in desperate need of a filter," I opened my mouth to respond. "But, you're a good guy. I'm sure when you find your mate, they'll see that."

Tatum brushed past me and moved up the stairs. His tone was clearly joking, but I couldn't help but freeze at his words. My mate? The absence of a mate mark on my neck wasn't something I tried to hide, but it wasn't simply because I hadn't met my mate yet.

There were mountains of memories of the way he used to look at me. A universe inside my head filled with constellations of dreams that would never come to fruition; a graveyard of emotions that used to course through my body when I saw him; a tower filled with memories of the way he'd touch me and thoughts I longed to forget.

My hand moved to my neck and brushed the spot where my mate mark should lay. I wished that the reason it wasn't there was simply because I hadn't met my mate. No, I wished that I could go back in time to when I first met him again.

If I could relive that one day all over again then everything would be different. If I could live that one day all over again then I would've rejected him on the spot. I would've listened to Nolan's warnings and I wouldn't have let him into my life. Into my heart.

"Nixon, hurry up!" Tatum called out.

"I'm coming," I replied, but the lighthearted fun from before was ruined.

I began to walk up the stairs, but he was still on my mind. My feet stopped about halfway up, my hand moved from my mark spot and to the center of my neck, and my eyes closed. The smile that I once adored now became a sinister reminder of who he was. Not the persona he hid behind, but the evil man he became behind closed doors.

If I could live that one day all over again, I would've never let Isaiah Wells hurt me the way he did.