Page 32 of Hidden Resolution (Stonebrooke #2)

W hat did he mean by “not again?”

“Mason?” Hysteria crept into Shonda’s voice, making her wince at its shrillness.

“Please tell me your purse is close by, with your gun in there,” he said.

“No.” She pushed against his dead weight to determine the problem.

He swore under his breath and rolled to free her. “Okay, plan B. You get the fuck out of here. I’m assuming you’re familiar with the layout of this place?”

“Yeah, familiar enough. Come on.” She rose in a half-crouch and attempted to drag him with her. His resistance was unexpected.

“You go,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you, love.”

The strained edge gave him away. His tight, pale features added to the tale.

“You’re lying,” she said flatly, kneeling to search for his wound. “Where were you hit?”

Mason caught the hands tugging at his clothes. “Shonda, you need to save yourself.”

“I’m not leaving you. Not without a weapon to protect yourself.”

“God, you’re fucking fierce. I was a fucking idiot not to tell you how much I adore you before now.

” With a trembling hand, he brushed back the hair falling over her eyes.

“But your remaining here is not up for debate, love. I don’t trust the lull.

” With a pained grimace, he gently nudged her. “Escape while you can. Please.”

“Mason—” She swallowed down the fear and regret. There was nothing like a surprise assault to make you recognize the important things in life.

His soft smile was understanding. “Go.”

Shonda delivered a hard kiss, then dashed for the dining room, all the while praying she’d calculated properly.

With luck, she’d have time to get to her gun safe before their assailant got to Mason.

Yes, he’d intended for her to leave the house and go for help.

But there was no fucking chance in hell she’d leave him at the mercy of a crazed shooter.

Tiptoeing, she crept into her bedroom. Every few feet, she listened for the telltale signs of an intruder. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, she ventured forth into her closet.

The safe was a floor model. Opening it was a simple matter of pulling back the faux rug and punching in the code. With the gun’s safety in the off position, she returned to the kitchen.

The conversation stopped her in her tracks, and she ducked into the dining room to listen.

“You aren’t such a badass now, huh?”

A crack and a thud followed the taunt.

Mason grunted. “You know, Billy Boy, I’d make haste if I were you. Shonda already called the police. You’ve got a few minutes tops to make good your escape.”

It was difficult to hear over her pounding pulse.

Billy? He was the one shooting at them? Why trail them here? Why not simply disappear and start over elsewhere?

“Shut the fuck up and tell me where she went,” Billy snarled. “If you do, I’ll make your death as painless as possible.”

Terror ripped its way out through her chest, and her adrenaline spiked, making her tremble.

She could scarcely draw a proper breath.

Sweat dampened her skin, dripping down into her eyes.

Shonda swiped it with the back of her wrist and shifted the gun to her opposite hand to rub her clammy palm on her jeans.

Breathe, Shonda. Just breathe.

Slow and steady pace. Too fast and she’d hyperventilate.

Mason scoffed. “You’ve obviously watched one too many movies.”

Damn, but he possessed balls of steel if he was able to taunt Billy in the midst of an attack. His careless attitude drove her to the brink. God, he was begging to be murdered! Not smart.

“Have it your way, asshole.”

Billy’s intent left no room for doubt, and Shonda didn’t hesitate. Acting on pure instinct, she swung into the room, aimed center mass, and pulled the trigger.

Two shots through the back, straight to the heart.

As his body crumpled to the floor, she darted a wild glance around the room, ensuring he was alone. Next, she checked for a pulse, not expecting to find one. Her aim was true.

“Jesus! Tell me you didn’t go all Natasha Romanoff on this guy without backup rolling,” Mason demanded. His movie reference might’ve been funny if she were in a laughing mood.

“Well, yours is a mighty fine thank you.” She plopped down next to him. “But since you favorably compared me to Scarlett Johansson, I’ll forgive you.”

“Shonda Grant, when I’m mobile again, I’m going to spank your ass,” he growled, reaching for her. Cupping her face, he gazed deep into her eyes and shook his head. “What is wrong with you that you can’t follow directions?”

“Seriously? I just saved your ungrateful ass, and your anger is what I get for it?” she asked, ending on a ragged note. Her hysteria had returned.

“Love, I’m going to need you to remain calm.” He caressed her nape in long, slow strokes.

“Calm? I’m perfectly calm.” Her shrillness would break glass if everything wasn’t already shattered.

His lips curled.

Okay, so she wasn’t very calm. She began shaking in earnest.

“Ohmygod! Mason, I just killed my cousin.” Hiccuping sobs convulsed her body.

They weren’t for the backstabbing prick Billy had become, but for the gangly teen she’d treated as a brother.

“Shonda, sweetheart,” he panted. “You can’t break down. I need your strength one more time.”

Alert to the danger, she stilled. Gray tinged his skin, cluing her in.

“Call an ambulance,” he ordered. “All this blood isn’t his.”

“Fuck me!”

“I’d like nothing more once I get my strength back,” he murmured, collapsing against her.

Eyes closed, deathly pale, and grip slackening, Mason passed out.

Shonda scrambled up, but the blood on the tile created a slick surface, causing her to slip and slide as she ran for the hallway. Tearing through the house, she frantically tried to recall where she’d last had her purse. Mason’s arrival, coupled with the shooting, had her discombobulated.

A minute later, she stumbled across the bag on the living room floor. After dumping the contents, she rifled through until she found her cell.

Dispatch remained on the line as she reported details of Mason’s condition. They talked her through finding the wound and applying pressure. Since the process was universal knowledge, she suspected they were attempting to keep her from losing her shit completely.

Within minutes, the paramedics were on scene, loading him into their rig.

Thank Christ!

Shonda shook her head in disbelief. How were they playing out the same scene for a second time in less than a month? Constant craziness had become her life.

And exactly like before, because she was responsible for taking a life, the police refused to let her accompany Mason to the hospital.

Instead, they cuffed her, brought her to the station, and demanded she recount the circumstances surrounding the shooting.

Multiple times, until she thought she’d go mad.

“Do I need a lawyer?” she asked wearily.

Thornton was a helluva lot different than Stonebrooke. There, Bucky and others had her best interests at heart. Here, where she was unknown, she was viewed with suspicion.

“Did you do anything to warrant one?” the grizzled officer asked with a smirk.

“Not if you view self-defense as warranted,” she said, rubbing the spot between her brows. Mason could be dead for all she knew, and she was stuck in an endless cycle of interrogation, all in the hopes of tripping her up.

After another hour, they were satisfied with her story.

A kindly officer drove her to the trauma center.

From the back seat, she dialed Dane to give him a rundown of the situation.

“I don’t know anything else yet. I’ll call you when I do,” she promised with a sniffle.

“Don’t cry, babe. My brother’s too mean to die,” he said gruffly.

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

“Never doubt it. I’ll be there as soon as I can catch a flight.”

Shonda was left at the emergency entrance, and she staggered into the after-hours admitting area, where they directed her to the ER waiting room. The overflow area was her own personal hell.

Calls poured in from Erica, Zack, Connie, and even Charlie. From Dane, silence. Hopefully, it meant he’d been able to find a flight.

Somewhere in all the chaos, she reached Verity and canceled their dinner plans.

“It’s surreal, Verity,” she said. “I’m not family, so I’m not entitled to an update.”

“Can his mother appoint you on their behalf?”

“She said she’d try, but I haven’t heard back yet.”

“Do you want me to come wait with you?” Verity offered. “I can reschedule the dinner for another time.”

“You know I’d welcome the company, but you have three kids, and it’s meal time. You’ll have a riot on your hands in nothing flat.”

Verity laughed and offered to sacrifice her husband to her tiny terrors.

“Seriously, I love you for asking, but I’m okay,” Shonda assured her. “I reserve the right to call you at another time, though.”

After hanging up, she settled in for the long wait.