Dance With Me - By Hayden Braeburn Page 0,47

at this time.

Dylan leaned over to ask, “Why didn't the doctor go first?”

“Peters wanted to show how far she'd taken the delusion,” she answered. “He also wanted to show how entrenched within it she was, convincing you to believe her.”

“She was convincin',” he admitted. He was quiet for a moment before turning back to Cassidy. “Psychiatric care until she's competent for trial?”

She nodded. “Typically, there are drugs or therapies, resulting in the perp showing deep regret for whatever they've done, then a trial where they're often found not guilty by reason of insanity but committed just the same.”

“Either way, she's nowhere near your brother.” He studied her face. “You don't think she's crazy.”

She shook her head. “She knew what she was doing was wrong.” She focused on the psychiatrist for a moment before directing her attention back to Dylan. “I believe the doctor is right—Priscilla is no doubt obsessed with Mason to the point of delusions—but she planned everything. I just can't see anything but premeditation there.”

He grimaced. This sitting business was getting old. “How much longer 'til we can blow this pop-stand?”

~*~

“Daddy, get me out of here!” Priscilla demanded.

Donald McClaren eyed his daughter, his face a grim mask. This was his little girl? This was the woman with whom he'd entrusted a thirty-million dollar company? “I can't,” he answered around the lump in his throat. “The courts have found you incompetent to stand trial. You have to stay.”

She stomped her foot, the rubber sole making no noise. “I don't want to stay, I have work to do!”

He looked down at the worn vinyl floor for a moment. “You broke a number of laws, Priscilla. Almost killed a man.”

“I was just taking what was mine, but they ruined everything! Mason is mine. Mine!” she screamed.

Donald pressed his fingers to his temples. While he had been traveling the world, his only child had been losing her mind. He watched the delusions contort his daughter's beautiful face into a caricature of her former self. “Mason is a grown man, not a bauble.”

“I will have him,” she vowed.

“You will have drugs and therapy.” He turned then and walked quietly from the psychiatric ward of Aylesford Memorial Hospital. If only money could solve this problem. His daughter endangering and nearly killing others was not good for business.

~*~

“It's over,” Kat repeated Carter's words, loving the sound of them. Priscilla may not be behind bars, but she was secured just the same. She chose not to think about what could happen after Priscilla was deemed fit for trial, instead focusing on the pure joy that came from knowing Mason was safe.

Mason breathed freely for the first time in what seemed like years. Priscilla's incompetence meant he wouldn't have to testify for a long while, wouldn't have to go over his kidnapping again and again. He ran a hand through his hair before taking the few steps necessary to wrap Kat in his arms from behind. “Thankfully over.” He dropped a kiss on her head. “At least for now.”

She sighed. “Now life can get back to normal.”

“Better than normal.” He tightened his arms around her. “You're moving in, we're getting married, and my family loves you.”

She turned in his arms to cup his jaw and bring his mouth down to hers. She kissed him deeply, losing herself in the feel of his mouth, his lips, his tongue against hers. When she finally broke the kiss, it was to say, “Much better than normal.”

~*~

Kat buckled her heel and made her way to the dance floor, the music pumping loudly through the empty studio. Monday she would reopen, the horror of just two weeks ago over. The last time she danced alone on this floor she had been desperate, thinking Mason was hiding her from his family. Today, she was headed to Charles and Carolyn Everett's home for their weekly family dinner. She marveled in the changes, especially in the increase in enrollments. It seemed being framed for drug trafficking had the benefit of making her famous, and everyone wanted to learn to dance from a celebrity.

She threw herself into a jump, her landing precise. Last week she had moved her things into Mason's house, and today she hired a wedding planner. After his... ordeal... they were wasting no time getting to the altar. She grinned as she pushed herself into a spin. She couldn't wait to shed her mother's name and replace it with Mason's. Mila Nemecek had not been a bad mother, exactly, but she valued money

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