on the edge of lunacy.”
His chuckle sounded like a blender full of gravel. “You think mighty highly of yourself, don't ya?”
She turned to face the formidable man in the bed. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means it's not your fault you saw the best in your friend. It means you don't need to be here waitin' on me at god knows when o'clock.”
She'd been by his bedside for six hours. He was not dismissing her. “No.”
He knitted his eyebrows. “No?”
“I'm not leaving. Caleb said you would need help, so I'm going to help you.”
“Why?”
“I promised,” she answered simply. “And I owe you.” She crossed back to his bedside. “Unless you have someone you need me to call.”
He barely shook his head. “There's no one,” he answered very quietly.
She swept her dark eyes up and down this heroic man. Why was there no one waiting on him? Worried about him? “Yes, there is,” she promised.
NINE
Saturday dawned bright, especially when a room was primarily windows. Kat threw an arm over her eyes. She might not be much of a morning person, but this was ridiculous. She felt Mason trying to hide his laughter behind her and caught him with an elbow. “What? It's bright.”
“The sun will do that,” Mason joked through a laugh.
She rolled off the couch. She was happy to hear him laughing, even if it was at her expense. “If we can't sleep in a bed anymore, we're going to have to get some heavier curtains.”
His laughter ended abruptly. “Yeah, I guess we will,” he agreed, his tone somber.
Dammit. “I didn't mean to—” she began.
He cut her off. “I know.” He rolled off the couch himself then, padding on bare feet to the master bathroom.
Kat stood rooted to the floor. She hadn't meant to make light of the situation, but it was barely seven in the morning and she'd been nearly blinded by the sun! Consigning herself to the fact she was fully awake, she took care of her own business and went to work making breakfast. Coffee, that's what she needed. Good strong coffee might keep her from stepping on another landmine.
Mason stood beneath the shower spray for what seemed like hours. He'd taken a long, hot shower as soon as they arrived home, but he couldn't wash away the damage done. His wrists and ankles bore angry red marks, the hair missing in wide swaths. His abdomen carried a long, shallow cut where the scissors had scored when Dylan Black had tackled him, and his ass was sore from multiple jabs with a needle. Add to that the IV lines and he was a mess. A mess who couldn't even make love to his own fiancee. A mess who had allowed himself to be kidnapped by a tiny woman. A mess who had almost been raped. He beat his fists against the pristine white tile. How had he let this happen? Why hadn't he done something after Melanie was essentially poisoned?
Kat heard the thumping from the bathroom and sprinted across the kitchen and through the living room. Had he fallen?
She poked her head in the bathroom. “Mason, are you okay?”
“No,” he answered, his voice raw. “I'm sorry.”
“You're sorry?” she echoed. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I knew she was off. I should've done something. I should have said something.”
There was a pause and the swish of clothing hitting the floor before Kat opened the glass door and let herself in. “Carter said something the other day that is true. You can't hold yourself accountable for other people's mental illnesses.” She wrapped him in her arms. “It's not your fault.”
“But—”
She stopped him with a kiss. “It's not. Now, come have breakfast with me.”
“I don't deserve you.”
She grinned. “Maybe not, but you've got me anyway.” She shrugged into a short terry cloth robe. “Come on before the frittata gets cold.”
Gorgeous, understanding, and she could cook, too. “I am a lucky man.”
~*~
Reid Caufield glanced at his unlikely partner. Never would he expect to be conducting an interview with his Lieutenant, but that's what he found himself doing. “Miss O'Hara, I know you've done this already, but can you tell me about yesterday?” he asked Mason Everett's assistant.
Kelly nodded, sending her bright red ringlets bouncing. “Of course. She came by before Mase...er...Mr. Everett arrived and told me she had an appointment.”
“Did she?” Ian Carpenter asked.
She shook her head. “Nope. She made a stink about her assistant Drew making one, and demanded she be let into wait.” She held up her hands.