Page 14

14

KAI

A loud, keening noise jolted me awake at six a.m., and I sat bolt upright in bed, hand flailing out to smash at my alarm clock. I hit the off button, but the sound didn’t stop. I hit it again. And again. My hand slammed down four more times before I realized the noise wasn’t coming from the clock.

It was a siren, and it was coming from outside my window.

My stomach dropped. Fear gripped my chest with its talons. Something bad had happened.

“Mason?” I called out, throwing the covers back. “Mason, are you inside?”

No answer.

I couldn’t breathe. My guts twisted. Something bad had happened to him.

Or to your stalker, I tried telling myself. Could be that.

But I knew. Somehow, I knew Mason was in trouble.

I was out of my room in a flash, Bella right behind me. I checked the guest room, the bathroom, flew downstairs, and tore through the entire main floor. My heart pounded as I ran to the front door and yanked it open.

An ambulance was halfway down the block, lights flashing, pulling away.

“Wait!” I shouted, sprinting after it. “Wait, Mason! Are you in there? Are you okay?”

If the driver noticed the lunatic in pajamas chasing them with a dog, they didn’t stop. God, I couldn’t breathe. My chest hurt. I turned back towards the house—and saw Maud Van Houten standing on her front stoop.

“Maud,” I said, jogging over to her. “Did they—was there—did you see what happened?”

One glance at the rental car parked in front of my house confirmed what I already feared. It was empty. Mason was gone.

“Oh yes,” Maud said. “I’m the one who called 911.”

“911?!” I yelped. “What happened?”

“Well, I came out to get the morning paper, and I saw your young man lying on the sidewalk, right where you’re standing.”

She pointed down. I followed her finger and saw it—blood spatters on the cement. My gaze shifted to the yard. More blood on the walkway leading up to the steps and—Jesus. Was that a rat?

A dead fucking rat was sprawled in the grass, flies already buzzing around it. My chest tightened like someone had cinched it with wire. I looked back at Maud.

“Was he—he wasn’t—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. All I could do was silently beg. Please, please, please. Don’t let him be dead. Don’t take him away from me.

“Oh, he was in bad shape,” Maud said. “Breathing, of course. I checked for a pulse right away. But he wasn’t conscious, and it looked like he’d been lying there a while. Whatever was he doing out on the street in the middle of the night?”

She gave me a pointed look, like I should have the answer. Guilt squeezed my heart in a brutal vise. Guarding me. Helping me. Trying to keep me safe. And nearly getting himself killed for it.

“What did the EMTs say?” I asked.

“Oh, they didn’t know what happened either, but they said the police would surely have some ideas. They’re on the way, apparently. They’re going to investigate the crime scene. Imagine that—a crime scene, right here. The EMTs told me to wait for them.”

“Not about what happened,” I said quickly. “About Mason. Did they say if he’s going to be okay?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know about that,” Maud said, as if surprised I’d asked. “I heard one of them say to the other that he’d been beaten up pretty badly. They loaded him onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. Didn’t stick around to chat.”

Beaten up. If he’d been shot, they would’ve said. If he were bleeding out, someone would’ve mentioned it. He was just beaten up.

“Did they say what hospital they were taking him to?”

“They might’ve said something about George Washington?”

“Not Georgetown?” I asked. “That’s closer.”

“Well, I don’t know. I might’ve misheard. Oh, I’m sorry, honey. You must be upset, and here I am keeping you standing out here. Why don’t you go inside and wait for the police? I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you.”

“I don’t have time for that!” I snapped. “I have to go find Mason.”

I didn’t even change out of my pajamas. I just grabbed my wallet, keys, and phone, shoved my feet into old sneakers, and got in the rental car.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay.

I repeated it like a spell. If Mason were dying, they would’ve taken him to Georgetown. Every second would’ve counted. They would’ve gone closer. He had to be okay. He was beaten up. He’d live.

But then why the siren? whispered the voice in the back of my mind. If there was no urgency, why the lights and noise?

I didn’t have any answers.

I skidded into the GW Hospital ER thirty minutes later, cursing all the red lights I’d hit on the way. I bolted up to the check-in desk, heart racing.

“Mason,” I panted. “Mason Clark. Was he taken here?”

I wanted to collapse against the counter, but I couldn’t relax. Not until I knew he was safe.

The intake nurse—her name tag said Irune—typed something, then nodded. “Looks like he came in a few minutes ago. They’ve got him back in one of the observation bays.”

Not surgery. That was good. If he were critical, they’d have rushed him somewhere else. Right?

“Can I see him?” I asked.

She frowned. “Are you family?”

“Yes,” I said instantly. “We’re brothers.”

Mason would probably mock me endlessly for saying that. But I didn’t care. I’d say whatever it took to get back there.

Irune’s frown lingered a moment, but then her expression softened. Maybe she saw the panic in my eyes. Maybe she just didn’t want to argue. Whatever the reason, she gave a nod, and a minute later, I was heading down a corridor towards the observation bays.

And then I saw him.

Reclining against a cot, awake, alive, and talking to Detective Myers and Officer Branscombe.

That was when I finally exhaled. My first real breath since waking up.

“What are you doing here?” Mason asked when I reached them.

Maud hadn’t exaggerated. He looked like hell. A cut on his forehead had been closed up with butterfly bandages. He had a black eye and a swollen jaw. His right arm was in a sling, and he held himself like his entire torso was one big bruise.

Tears stung my eyes.

He was still big, still burly, still Mason. But sitting there in a hospital gown, he looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. Tell him how scared I’d been. How I couldn’t have handled it if he’d died. How sorry I was for dragging him into my chaos.

But I didn’t hug him. I didn’t cry. Not in front of Myers and Branscombe.

Instead, I smiled and said, “I’m so glad you’re okay. Mrs. Van Houten told me she found you, and I came looking for you.”

“You shouldn’t have come alone,” Mason said, but I ignored him. Right now, his safety mattered more than mine.

I turned to the cops. “She said you were going to come to my house to investigate what happened.”

“Officers should be securing the scene now,” Myers replied tightly. “We’ll head over as soon as we finish taking Mr. Clark’s statement.” He looked back at Mason. “You’re sure you can’t remember anything else?”

Mason shifted on the bed and winced. “I already told you, I passed out pretty quickly.”

“And nothing else before that?” Branscombe asked.

“Just what I already said. I jumped out of the car and I’d almost gotten the guy cuffed when two others came up behind me and pulled me off him.”

“Men?” she prompted.

“Pretty sure.” He shrugged, then winced again. “But it was dark. They were all in black, ski masks. I couldn’t see much of anything.”

“No identifying details at all?” Myers pushed. “Didn’t recognize their eyes? The sound of their voices?”

“They didn’t talk,” Mason said. “And no. I didn’t recognize their eyes. It was dark .”

He sounded like he’d said it twenty times already. I reached over and squeezed his hand without thinking. He looked at me in surprise, but didn’t pull away. After a moment, he squeezed back.

Myers glanced at our hands and said, “It’s possible this attack was unrelated—”

“But not damn likely,” Mason cut in.

“No,” Myers admitted, nodding. “Not very likely.” He looked back at our hands. “It’s probably connected to whoever’s behind the threats on Mr. Jacinto’s life. Some nutjob who doesn’t like your lifestyle.”

I opened my mouth to say it wasn’t a lifestyle, but Mason squeezed my hand, so I let him handle it.

“So what are you actually doing about it?” he asked. “You’ve got to realize this is a priority now. There’ve been attempts made on both our lives.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Clark,” Myers said, “only the police can determine priorities. But yes, we’re stepping up our efforts. I’ll personally call your security company and get them to expedite sending the footage over. I’ll review it myself, and canvass the neighborhood for anyone who might have seen something. We’ll sweep the scene for DNA and other evidence. And I’ve requested a police guard for Mr. Jacinto’s house. No guarantees, but the request is in.”

“If you’d done all this earlier,” I snapped, “Mason might not have gotten hurt.”

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t their fault. I was the one who insisted we not report the last two notes. If I had, maybe Mason wouldn’t be lying in that hospital bed.

If Myers was offended, he didn’t show it. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever considered tweaking your center a little? Those, uh, transgendered kids are kind of a hot-button issue these days. Maybe think about taking that part out?”

Branscombe gave him a look like she couldn’t believe he’d said that. Even Mason glowered. But I was the one who answered.

“I’m not screwing trans kids over because of one bigot,” I said, voice rising. “Most of them come with their families’ support anyway. And even the ones who don’t—it’s not like we’re offering surgeries. We provide haircuts and clothes. Counseling. Peer groups to help them build confidence. I’m not going to let some asshole stop me from helping the kids who need it—whether they’re trans, gay, or whatever.”

“Group of assholes,” Mason muttered. “Or at least, one asshole with friends.”

“The point still stands,” I said. My chest burned with fury. Every attack made me more determined to move forward.

“Okay,” Myers said, his voice deliberately calm, like I was on the edge of a meltdown. “Have you thought of maybe delaying the opening? Just until things cool off?”

“No!” I said at the same time Mason said, “We tried that.”

We looked at each other. Mason gave me a look that said it was time to come clean. I didn’t want to—but I knew he was right.

“Which is it?” Myers asked.

I took a breath and let go of Mason’s hand. “It’s complicated,” I said, then launched into the whole story—about the notes, the video, how we’d tried to throw them off.

“You really should have brought this to us sooner,” Branscombe said gently. “We can’t help you if we don’t have all the information.”

And she was right. I felt like shit. If I’d gone to them earlier, they might have...I didn’t know what, exactly. Arrested someone? Called in Batman? Handed Mason a nail-studded rolling pin and told him to go wild? Anything would have been better than the nothing I’d insisted on.

“So let me get this straight,” Myers said. “Your press release about delaying the shelter was fake? You’re not actually halting construction?”

“Of course not,” I said, still annoyed he’d suggested it. “Even if I wanted to—which I don’t—we’ve signed contracts. The board would never agree to pay people without expecting the work to be finished.”

“Alright,” Myers said, absorbing that. “We’ll need to see those notes. They’re evidence. Officer Branscombe is right—you should have told us sooner. But at least we know now.”

The cops left soon after that, but the doctors weren’t ready to release Mason yet. They wanted to run more tests, X-ray his ribs, check for a concussion, and do a bunch of other things I didn’t entirely understand.

“Go home,” Mason said, grimacing as a nurse helped him into a wheelchair. “There’s nothing you can do for me here.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” I said firmly. “Not when they didn’t even leave someone to guard you.”

“Kai, I’m surrounded by nurses and doctors. No one’s sneaking in here to stab me.”

“They might try.”

“They won’t.” He met my eyes. “Bella must be starving. And she needs to go out. Go take care of her.”

I frowned. He wasn’t wrong. Bella did need attention.

“Do you have your phone?” I asked.

He nodded towards a chair where his clothes and shoes had been neatly folded.

“Call me the second they say you can go, alright?” I said. “I’ll come get you and take you home.”

“Alright, Mom.” He rolled his eyes.

“I mean it. Don’t you dare try to get home on your own.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The nurse wheeled him away for his X-ray, and I stood there, watching him go.

I picked Mason up from the hospital a few hours later, with Bella in the backseat. The second she saw him, she started scrambling up between the front seats like her life depended on it. He patted her awkwardly with his left hand while she licked the side of his face and the top of his head—he couldn’t move enough to push her away.

“Bella, stop being a goober,” I said, nudging her back as we hit a red light. I glanced at Mason. “The only other time she’s been in a car with me was the day I brought her home, and she definitely wasn’t this excited. She’s obsessed with you.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the appreciation,” he said dryly, “but why’d you bring her if we’re going home?”

“Because we’re not,” I said. “Not to my home, anyway. We’re going to yours.”

It felt weird saying it— yours . Mason hadn’t been staying at my place for long, but it already felt like I should be saying our home. I shook my head, reminding myself that whatever was happening between us, it was just physical. Just a byproduct of being cooped up together. Mason didn’t feel anything for me.

“Dana called me,” I said as I turned onto New Hampshire. “I didn’t even know she had my number. But she said she’d been trying to reach you and couldn’t, so I explained what happened, and she insisted both of us come sleep at her place tonight.”

“Oh, god,” Mason groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “She’s going to mother me so hard.”

“Maybe you need it.”

“You don’t know what she’s like. She’ll do it to you too.”

“It’ll be fine,” I said.

He gave me a dark, mutinous glance, but didn’t argue.

At first, I didn’t know what he was talking about. After a very creepy doorbell chimed to announce our arrival, Dana greeted us—and Bella—warmly, giving me a hug like we’d seen each other last week instead of twelve years ago.

“So good to see you,” she said, pulling me into the living room. “Sit down, sit down, I’ll bring coffee.”

She practically shoved Mason and me onto the couch. Bella curled up on the floor between us.

Dana was definitely doting, but I figured anyone would be, if their twin had just gotten out of the hospital. She asked about the final damage, and Mason explained: no concussion, but a broken rib and a strained right arm. He’d been given heavy-duty painkillers and ordered to take it easy—no lifting, no workouts, no stress on the body for a few weeks.

“Very sensible,” Dana said. “We can manage that. Between the two of us, either Kai or I should be able to stay with you.” She held out her hand. “Do you have your pills? Or did you already give them to Kai?”

I blinked, and Mason said, “I’m not seven, Dane. I can take care of my own pills.”

“I don’t want you to forget,” she said. “I know sometimes things slip your mind.”

Mason gave me a look and said dryly, “I forgot to finish a course of antibiotics once, in seventh grade, and the infection came back. Nearly twenty years later, and she still hasn’t let it go.”

I smiled. “Frankly, I think it’s cool that you’ve met your match.”

His eyes narrowed. “Meaning?”

“That there’s someone out there in the world who doesn’t let you bulldoze over them with your stubbornness.”

“I seem to recall you put up a good fight.”

“And yet somehow, I still ended up doing exactly what you wanted.” I laughed. “It’s nice to see you finally getting a taste of your own medicine.”

“Traitor,” Mason said.

Dana looked between us like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the exchange. “We can talk about the pill thing later,” she said. “For now, we should get you up to bed.”

“Bed?” Mason protested. “You just made us coffee.”

“Because I know how grumpy you get without it. But you still need to rest.”

Mason looked over at me. “Did you tell her to say that? Are you in cahoots?”

“Me?” I said innocently. “Cahoots? Never.”

He glared. I laughed. “Mason, which seems more likely—that I called your sister ahead of time, told her how resistant you were to sleeping at my place, and concocted a whole plan to make you rest? Or that she’s a person with a brain who can tell you were beat up and need to fucking sleep?”

“With you? I’d say chances are about even,” he grumbled.

“You’ll have to make your peace with not knowing. But you can make that peace in bed.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m fine. I spent most of the day lying around in that hospital bed.”

“And I’m sure you got tons of sleep, what with the beeping machines and constant interruptions.”

“You’re enjoying this,” he accused. “You know you can overpower me right now, and you’re lording it over me.”

“You got me. I’m a cruelly cruel person who lives for cruelty. Now do what your sister says and go to bed.”

As the afternoon wore on, I had to admit Dana might have been slightly overbearing. She insisted on counting out his pills and creating a spreadsheet for when he had to take them. She brought him snacks and water constantly—basically making it impossible for him to rest. When she offered to run a bath and help him wash, he hurled a pillow at her and told her to get out.

“Someone has to help you,” she said. “It’s either me or Kai. Take your pick.”

I flushed. Mason stared out the window. She threw her hands in the air and stomped downstairs. He didn’t look at me, so after a moment, I slipped out of the room to give him space and a shot at actually sleeping.

It was fun to wander around her house in the meantime. I’d known Dana was smart back in high school, but I still didn’t expect all the weird robots I kept stumbling across. There was a six-legged, spider-like one that crawled around the upstairs, hunting for discarded socks and yeeting them into a laundry basket at the end of the hall.

The laundry basket was a robot too, complete with blinking lights and buttons and switches I was afraid to touch. When it caught me staring for too long, a loud, Dalek-like voice shouted, “Wash me, coward!” loud enough to shake the house.

Downstairs, Dana showed me a roving watering can on wheels, with an internal crane that lifted it to the height of her various house plants. As it watered them, it whispered little affirmations in a deeply unsettling child’s voice. ‘ You are strong, confident, and competent. Your emotions are valid. It’s a waning crescent moon, let go of that which no longer serves you. ’

“Isn’t it cute?” she said, grinning as it misted the air above a fern. “It’s biodynamic.”

“Definitely,” I told her, though personally, I thought a regular, non-biodynamic watering can would have worked just as well.

It didn’t have eyes, but I still thought it was judging me from across the room, and when I passed through the living room later, it attempted to spritz me.

“You are enough,” it cooed. “You are right where you’re supposed to be.”

I fled back upstairs.

Dana ordered Chinese for dinner later on. I was pleased to see she’d gotten sesame chicken—the same thing I’d had in the fridge that Amir had mocked and Mason had thrown out. I really did like it, even though I never seemed to finish a whole carton. Amir came over, too, full of stories from his latest string of dates, both professional and personal.

“But enough about me,” he said, wrapping up a tale about a guy who brought a live trout to a bar. “I want to hear about you ,” he added, looking at me. “What’s going on with your secret admirer?”

Mason frowned and turned to me sharply. “Secret admirer?”

“He means my stalker,” I said. “He just has to be cute about it.”

“There’s nothing cute about this guy,” Mason said. “Whoever’s behind this isn’t afraid to use violence.”

“But Mason’s been a huge help,” I said when Amir and Dana both looked concerned. I updated them on the situation with the cops and the security system Mason had ordered for my house, and finished by adding, “I honestly shouldn’t be surprised he’s great at this. What does surprise me is how good a cook he is.”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Amir said, punching Mason gently on his good arm. “This dude can cook. And bake. And grill. And sauté, braise, stew. The only thing I haven’t gotten him to do is flambé—” he wiggled his eyebrows—“but I’m not giving up.”

I felt my face heat, thinking about how much flambéing Mason and I had already done.

“Well, no one told me,” I said. “The man commandeered my kitchen. Threw out everything in my fridge, ordered new groceries, and unearthed appliances I didn’t even know I owned.”

“The stuff in your fridge was nasty,” Mason said. Amir nodded in agreement. “And I couldn’t let you starve.”

“Takeout is a perfectly fine option,” I said, gesturing at the open cartons on the table.

“Not for every meal,” Mason said firmly. He looked at Amir. “Did you know Kai had never even had spinach before I made it for him?”

“You’re kidding,” Amir said. “I put that in my smoothie every morning.”

“I didn’t say I’d never had it,” I cut in. “Only that I’d never had it so good.” I shot Mason a glare. “Anyway, you’re making it sound like all you’ve done is cook a few meals. You’re not painting the full picture.”

“Ooh, what’s the full picture?” Dana asked.

“Home-cooked meals every night,” I said. “And breakfast. And he catered an entire party for me—on, like, a day’s notice. The man should be a professional chef, not a bodyguard.”

“I didn’t exactly hear you complaining,” Mason said with a smirk.

“I’m not complaining,” I said. “I’m just saying you kind of took charge of the kitchen like it’s your own.” I turned to Dana. “Your brother is a man of many talents, but he does like to get his own way.”

Mason snorted. “And you don’t?”

“He has a tendency to do that,” Dana said mildly. “Just wait until he gets started on your backyard.”

“Ooh, is that a euphemism?” Amir asked, eyebrows doing the conga.

“Oh my God, stop.” I glared at him, knowing my cheeks were flaming red. Then I deliberately turned and looked at Dana. “He started talking about how I should have a waterfall.”

“I think you brought up the waterfall,” Mason said.

“Yeah, but only after you started talking about water features. Then you went on about how I could have a whole little creek ecosystem.”

“I never used the word ecosystem ,” Mason said. “Not once did the word ecosystem escape my lips.”

“But you were thinking it. I could tell.”

“Oh, so you can read my mind now?”

“Yeah,” I said, laughing. “So you should probably stop referring to me as ‘ that idiot ’ in your head, or I might start to take offense.”

Mason laughed. “Oh, trust me, those aren’t the words I use when I think about you.”

“Saucy,” Amir said.

“Saucy is right,” I agreed. “Did I tell you about the béarnaise sauce he made to go with our steak?”

It was a really nice dinner, even if Mason started sulking at the end when Dana and I refused to let him help clean up. We made him lie down instead. The two of us did dishes together, and I couldn’t help thinking it was a shame I’d never been friends with her in high school. But back then, I’d been too scared that Mason would find out and somehow make my life even worse.

“He’s different with you,” Dana said suddenly, scrubbing dried rice off a plate in the sink.

I blinked, dish towel in hand. “Hmm?”

“Mason. He’s different with you. More talkative.”

“Oh,” I said, caught off guard. “Is that…a good thing?”

“Very good.” She rinsed the plate and handed it to me to dry. “I haven’t seen him this engaged in life since before the Marines.”

“Oh,” I repeated, still unsure how to respond. I put the plate away, absently scratched behind Bella’s ears, and grabbed another dish.

“He was like a different person when he got out. Shut down. Like the old version of him was just gone. But around you…” She shrugged. “Something’s different.”

“Did something…happen…over there?” I asked. I felt stupid. I didn’t even know where ‘ over there ’ was. “He never talks about his time in the military. He didn’t even mention he’d served, at first.”

“That’s more like the Mason who came back,” Dana said. “Taciturn. Irritable.” She sighed and picked up another plate. “I’ve wondered if something happened, but he won’t talk to me about it either. All I know is that he was honorably discharged, and he hasn’t held a steady job since.”

“Huh,” I said. “I guess if he were going to tell anyone, he’d tell you.”

“Maybe. But I don’t know. You could try asking. You might get more out of him than I could.”

“Really?” I said, doubtful.

“You bring something different out of him.”

“Yeah. Annoyance,” I said with a laugh.

“No, it’s more than that.” She turned and looked at me, her eyes soft. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you’re good for him. He’s different around you, and it’s a good thing. I approve.”

“Um. Thanks?” I said.

I definitely hadn’t been prepared for this conversation. She nodded and handed me another plate, her attention already back on the sink.

I dried it absently, mind elsewhere.

It’s a good thing.

Is that what we had, Mason and I? A good thing? I wasn’t sure. But I was more determined than ever to keep him safe—the way he’d been guarding me.

I owed him that.

That, and so much more.