Page 69 of Hidden Resolution
They all agreed.
Charlie had been a surrogate dad to them. As the local police chief, it had been well within his rights to arrest and send the young Sharp hoodlums to juvie when they erred on the wrong side of the law. Instead, he’d proved to be a positive influence and dedicated his off-time to guiding them down the right path.
“Is it possible Jacob got away? Maybe he’s lost in the dark?”
Shonda’s question was fragile optimism wrapped in worry, and Mason adored her for providing a flicker of light in a dark moment.
“Anything is possible.” Dane’s eyes softened, figuring out what she was trying to do, too.
“I can wait here, in case…” she offered.
She didn’t finish, but they all heard the “in case Jacob miraculously returns” anyway.
20
The message came through that Jacob wouldn’t be coming back.
Zack discovered his son was in the grip of the same lunatic who had Erica. With nothing left to do, Shonda drove to the hospital.
Everyone crowded into that sterile waiting room was worried sick, and she was no exception. Not only for Erica and Jacob, but for Charlie, too.
The man had been a fixture in town since her childhood. He was also the same person who had caught her and Erica smoking a joint behind the movie theater as freshmen. Instead of hauling their butts to their parents for punishment, he’d issued a single warning, giving them a fatherly hug and making them feel they’d personally let him down. His censure had been worse than any grounding.
While she was present for news on Charlie, being near Zack meant real-time updates on Erica as well. What she hadn’t accounted for, though she probably should’ve, was Mason’s emotional retreat. Apparently, he’d met his comfort quota and slipped back into his Fortress of Solitude.
Fine. She was long past the shock of Erica’s kidnapping and didn’t need his attention to stay upright. It was important to remember who had ended things, she reminded herself. Wasn’t she the one who’d said she was done riding the merry-go-round of mixed signals?
As if she’d reached out to him with her thoughts, Mason appeared before her. All six foot four inches of rugged, maddening male.
“It appears Zack isn’t returning with our coffee. I’m going to pick it up. Do you want any?”
“Sure.” She cast a glance around and counted heads. “Do you want me to go with you to help carry anything back?”
“I think I can handle four drinks.” His tone was clipped, making her feel foolish for offering.
“Okay. Two cre?—”
“I know how you take it.” Abruptly, he stalked away.
So she wouldn’t chase him and beat him over the head with her bag, Shonda pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and counted to ten. Adding another twenty to be safe. Everyone was fraying at the seams, and strangling him wasn’t considered a valid coping mechanism.
Twenty minutes passed.
Which was about ten minutes longer than it should have taken to wrangle a few cups of caffeine. Maybe someone should’ve gone after Mr. High and Mighty to help him manage the Herculean task of juggling a tray after all.
Not that she cared.
Other than a headache from the lack of caffeine, why should she care whether Mason needed help? He’d made himself abundantly clear. He didn’t want ties.
She wasn’t built to be a fuck buddy. Sure, another woman would jump at the bait, convinced she could convert him. But Shonda had learned the hard way. Believing anyone wouldchange their ways always ended the same, with one person brokenhearted and the other long gone.
Her faith in happily ever after was thin these days.
Her wayward thoughts chased each other around her brain on one giant hamster wheel, wearing her down. What-if. Should-she. Could-she. The loop was endless. And in the background was the bigger fear of,God, please let Erica be okay!
“Shonda, dear, would you mind checking to see what’s keeping Mason?” Connie Sharp asked with a warm smile on her face.
Dane popped up. “I’ll go. I need to make sure Zack’s all right, anyway.”
