Between Guys
Mason drove home in silence, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as the events of the day replayed in his mind. His jaw was throbbing, a constant reminder of the hit Gerald had given him. A bruise was already forming, spreading along his cheekbone, darkening the skin beneath his eye.
When Mason finally pulled into the long driveway and turned off the engine, he didn't get out right away. Instead, he leaned back in his seat and glanced at the rearview mirror to see how bad it was. His face stared back at him—tired, worn, and now bruised. The dark mark under his eye was stark against his pale skin, the edges purple and swollen.
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Still got it," he muttered to himself, amused at how strong Gerald's punch had been. It reminded him of their younger days, back when fights like this weren't so rare. But this one hit harder than the others.