Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies
Page 105

As he got up and walked outside, I found myself wondering if he was right.
Chapter 30
Mason came back from his walk, and we spent several hours working on a list of questions that would help point us toward a paper trail. He was subdued, and he didn’t respond to any of my attempts to get him to talk unless it was about the meeting with J.R. I understood his distance, but it made my heart ache.
Jed had returned with Mason. I tried to have several visions showing the outcome of the meeting, but I never came up with anything.
“What’s that mean?” Mason asked. “Was Jed dead?”
“No. It’s dark and cold when someone’s dead. This is gray and hazy. As though what I’m asking doesn’t happen … or it’s too indeterminate to tell.”
“So what do you want to do?” Jed asked, worry wrinkling his brow.
“We keep goin’,” I said.
After lunch, I said I needed to lie down and rest. Mason came with me, and I nearly cried when he opened his arms, inviting me to snuggle against him.
“Are you ready to talk about Savannah?” I asked.
He hesitated. “Part of me isn’t surprised that he’s involved. But after the details Malcolm shared with me, I no longer regret beating Cartwright to a pulp. And if that’s true, what kind of person does that make me?”
“It makes you human, Mason.”
“It may be understandable to think it or wish it, but not to actually follow through.” He lay on his back and turned his head to look at me. “And there’s a part of me that wanted to help Malcolm kill J.R. Simmons.”
“But you didn’t. You told him no.”
His arm tightened around me. “If he hurts you, I might lose my restraint.”
“He won’t hurt me. I’m going to be fine.”
“He and/or Kate almost killed you last night, Rose.”
“But they didn’t.” I looked up at him. “Skeeter says everyone thinks I’m dead.” I ran my finger along his jawline. “And that they suspect you’ve met with foul play.”
“I figured as much.”
I stilled my hand. “It doesn’t bother you?”
He swallowed. “It hurts like hell that my mother thinks her only living child might be dead and that the woman she loved like a daughter is too.” His voice broke. “But there’s not a damn thing I can do about it right now.”
Something in his voice set me on edge. “Do you blame me?”
He was quiet for so long, I didn’t think he was going to answer. “Part of me wants to, but no. Not for this.”
I wanted to ask him what he did blame me for, but I didn’t have the energy. Or the courage. “Skeeter says there’s another option. One I hadn’t considered. He says I can start over. A new life. A new identity. You could too.”
His fingertips lightly stroked my arm, and I couldn’t help wondering if he was just doing it out of habit. “And what did you say?”
“I gave him an answer, but I realized that wasn’t fair to you. This is your decision too.”
“I’m glad you finally see something that way.” His words were bitter.
“I know I’ve made so many mistakes—”
“We’re not even going to look at the past two months right now.” He shifted to his side to look me in the eye. “At the moment, I’m more upset that you decided to go through with this without asking my opinion or allowing me any say whatsoever.”
“I knew you’d never go along with it.”
“Did you?” he asked, sounding guarded. “Well, now neither of us will ever know, I guess, because there’s no putting that horse back in the barn.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying that, but my heart keeps breaking anyway.”
Tears swam in my eyes.
“I just found out that you’ve lived a double life for over two months, and I never had a clue. Do you have any idea how stupid I feel?”
“Mason. No.”
He shook his head and looked at the wall. “Watching you with them … It’s like I don’t know you at all.”
“How can you say that?”
He closed his eyes. “I’m tired, and I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret.” His eyes opened and met mine. “All I know is that I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love another person. You make me more than I am by myself.” He gave me a sad smile. “Does that make sense?”
I nodded, tears leaking from my eyes. “That’s how I feel too.”
“Do you? I’m not so sure,” he said softly. Then he leaned over and kissed me, pulling me close again. “Get some rest, Rose. You need to be on your toes tonight.”
“Okay.”
Time, I assured myself, he just needs time. They said time healed all wounds.
But what if these were the type of wounds that didn’t heal?
When I woke up, the room was darker, and I sat upright in a panic. “Mason!” He wasn’t in the bed, and I tried to scramble to my feet.
“I’m here.” He ran down the hall to me and sat beside me on the mattress, gathering me into his arms.
My tears broke loose, and I sobbed my fears and worries into his chest. When I finally calmed down, I rubbed my fingers on the damp cloth, then leaned back and looked up into his shadowy face. “This has become a habit. Me crying into your shirt.”