Page 97 of Hidden Resolution
But it was over, and Shonda was exhausted. She wanted to go home, take the hottest shower known to man, crawl into bed, and sleep for a month. The last weeks had been a whirlwind of nonstop chaos.
When all was said and done, four separate officers asked to take her out for coffee or a drink sometime. Clearly, her Dirty Harriet routine was an aphrodisiac. She politely declined. Dating anyone while she felt the way she did about another man left a bad taste in her mouth.
She was headed through the lobby when it occurred to her that she had no car. Her apartment complex was a good five miles away, and she’d freeze to death before she ever made it home. The empty plastic chairs were tempting.
Deflated, she sat down.
Her phone was in her purse, which was in Mason’s car, and she had no numbers memorized.
“Need a ride, babe?”
Dane lounged against the exit, as if he owned the place. Her savior.
“God, yes. I’d sell my soul for a way home,” she said, joining him.
With a laugh, he flung an arm around her shoulders. “No pact with the devil needed for a warm car ride.”
“Have you heard any news on how everyone is faring?” she asked.
“Erica was in imaging for X-rays and a CT scan, and Jacob is on an IV for dehydration. The plan is to watch him overnight.”
A few heartbeats passed before she could summon the nerve to ask after Mason.
“He’s in surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage to his leg.” Dane must’ve read her conflict, and he paused in opening the vehicle door. “We have time for you to shower and change if you want to head over.”
“No point. I can see Erica in the morning. I’m sure with Zack, Mary, and Pete, it will be crowded enough.”
“And my brother?” Dane asked gently. “He has no one there for him.”
“His own fault, wouldn’t you say?” The question was rhetorical. She didn’t expect an answer. “Besides, he has you and Connie to care for him.”
“Not me. I’m not looking after his cranky ass. My face still hurts.”
She laughed because it was impossible not to.
Dane was a joy to be around. She imagined long before Mason had become embittered, he’d probably been as flirty and lighthearted as his brothers. There had been glimpses during their time together and had been part of his draw.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll get a quick shower and meet you at the hospital in about an hour.”
For the next three days, Shonda took a turn caring for Mason.
Each day, his mood grew darker, and his tone a little grimmer. And she understood why. The poor man was trapped and subject to unending drama regarding their non-existent relationship. His mother was downright relentless, droning on about wanting to see him settle down with a nice girl. How did Connie not realize she was doing more harm than good?
Dane, on the other hand, simply enjoyed busting his brother’s balls. At every opportunity, he’d throw an arm over Shonda’s shoulders or touch her waist. It didn’t matter if she shrugged him off or told him to knock it off. Mason would still fall into a black mood.
His retaliation was as childish as Dane’s behavior, which included flirting with the nurses as if he couldn’t care less.
And Shonda was over their stupid games. At one point, banishing Dane.
“You need to go, too,” Mason told her coldly, directly after she sent his brother packing.
“This again?” she quipped.
The immediate backlash caught her off guard.
