Liability

by Tymber Dalton

  He let the men take him inside. Kim was already curled up in Mason’s bed, his pillow in her arms and sobbing into it as Tilly sat next to her and looked up at their entrance.

  “Try to get some sleep,” Landry said from the bedroom doorway. “We will be back tomorrow morning to pick you up at nine and take you to the hospital.”

  Tilly stood and walked over to him. Hugging him, she whispered in his ear, “I left Mase’s stuff on the dining room table.”

  He nodded, still frozen, still processing.

  The three of them left, and he forced himself to go lock the door after them.

  There on the table sat the plastic bag, and Mason’s keys.

  He turned off the lights and returned to the bedroom, kicking off his shoes and stripping before rounding the bed to where Kim lay.

  “We need to get you undressed, pet,” he said, choking back his own tears.

  It was like undressing a child, a doll. She didn’t want to let go of Mason’s pillow and part of him wanted to wrench it from her, shove his face into it, and inhale.

  Finally, after setting his phone alarm to wake them at eight, he was able to get into bed with her, the pillow between them as he cradled her against him and closed his eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kim lay there the next morning in the dim, grey light, wishing it had all been a really bad nightmare.

  But the fact that they were at Mason’s, and he wasn’t there, was proof enough.

  Cole lay asleep next to her, stretched out on his side and facing her. Even in sleep he looked as agonized as she currently felt.

  She carefully got out of bed and shut off his phone alarm so it wouldn’t awaken him, then went to use to the bathroom. When she emerged, Cole had, in sleep, pulled Mason’s pillow to him.

  Hugging herself, she choked back a ragged sob and hurried out to the kitchen. It was only 6:30, and she didn’t want to wake him up any sooner than necessary.

  With her arms still wrapped around herself, she stopped in the middle of the kitchen.

  She should…Coffee. Breakfast.

  But he wasn’t there to do those things for.

  He wasn’t there.

  Her knees unhinged and she sank to the floor, still hugging herself, silently sobbing, rocking herself. Even as she knelt and touched her head to the floor, gulping in painful breaths and trying to stay quiet.

  He’s not here.

  Last night had been a blur. A painful, agonizing blur where every beat of her heart repeated the same thing.

  Master.

  Master.

  This wasn’t fair to Cole. She knew how much he loved Mase, too, and knew he was struggling to deal with his own pain, much less unsure how to help her through hers.

  It took her a while to pull herself together. On shaky legs she stood and washed her face in the kitchen sink, blowing her nose in paper towels. Trying to breathe, trying to think.

  He needs me.

  More importantly, she knew Cole needed her to suck it up so he could have the time he needed to grieve. Cole would do his damnedest to be strong for her to his own detriment. They had to face this together, as partners. She didn’t own the rights to falling apart.

  Mason was her Master. But he was Cole’s boyfriend. More than that, his partner. She saw the love in the man’s face when he looked at Cole. The same depth of emotion she saw when he looked at her.

  And that crazy little fucker was still out there, somewhere.

  Maybe I’ll be the one wearing prison orange if I get my hands on him first.

  She was glad Cole hadn’t let her see the video footage last night. That’s not what she wanted in her brain. It was bad enough seeing Mason in that hospital bed.

  She didn’t need another nightmare. She was already living one.

  After getting the coffee started she returned to the bathroom and started the shower, standing there, staring into the mirror as steam filled the bathroom. With a deep breath she unbuckled her collar and laid it on the counter before getting in to shower.

  Mason’s shampoo, Mason’s soap. She used it instead of hers, wanting to smell like him.

  I have to pull it together.

  Still, she broke down again, quietly sobbing with her forehead pressed against the tile wall.

  He’ll make it. He has to make it.

  Only when she had cried that out of her system did she get out, wrapping her wet hair in a towel and grabbing Mason’s robe from the back of the bathroom door.

  It took every ounce of will she had not to pull some of his dirty clothes out of the hamper and smell them.

  Cole was still asleep when she quietly got his keys and walked outside to get their bags from the trunk. She refused to look at the back of Mason’s car as she did. Overnight the sprinklers had come on and washed the last traces of the accident from the sidewalk.

  I need to make him proud of me.

  She knew Mason would want her to be strong for Cole, not make him shoulder this alone. It was only that thought that kept her vertical as she carried their stuff inside and then returned to the bedroom to check on Cole.

  Still sleeping.

  She fixed herself a cup of coffee and drank a few swallows of it before making Cole’s the way he liked and carrying them both to the bedroom.

  He was lying pretty much in the middle of the bed. As if seeking out her or Mason in his sleep.

  She set the cups down and plugged his phone into Mason’s charger. It was nearly seven now.

  After hanging the damp towel back in the bathroom and combing out her wet hair, she sat on the bed for a moment, behind Cole, and stared at him.

  I can do this.

  She kept Mason’s robe on and stretched her body out along Cole’s back, her arm around his waist, her other slipping under his pillow and cradling his head. At first she wasn’t sure he’d awakened, until she felt the silent sobs wrack his body.

  She kissed the top of his head. “I’m here,” she whispered. “We can do this.”

  He pulled her arms tightly around him as he cried, the sound breaking her heart, her soul, shattering her into a million pieces a second time. She held on to him, afraid to let go for fear of losing him to his grief, needing to be his anchor as much as he was hers.

  “I can’t do this without you,” he finally said.

  She closed her eyes and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. “I know. I can’t do this without you, either.”

  He finally let go of Mason’s pillow and turned in her arms, now wrapping his around her and staring down into her eyes. Those sweet blue eyes of his.

  “I know you need me to be strong for you. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” She forced a smile. “We’ll take turns falling apart.”

  He kissed her, and she wasn’t sure when it went from soft and gentle and comforting to devouring and possessive and frantically desperate.

  Then he rolled on top of her, the robe falling open as her legs parted for him, wrapping around him, his cock sliding home with a sigh from both of them as he laced fingers with her and pinned her arms over her head.

  Her eyes dropped closed, her body taking over, on total auto-pilot as his lips crushed hers in a kiss she hoped never ended.

  “Eyes open, pet,” he hoarsely said.

  She obeyed.

  One perfect moment they both needed, a connection, a reminder. They didn’t just belong to him, they belonged to each other as well. They’d desperately need that through the coming weeks…and months.

  Cole rested his forehead against hers as he slowly fucked her, not for pleasure, and she knew it.

  His soul called to hers through his gaze and she answered, trusting, letting herself go and fall into subspace, needing this and him and completely unapologetic.

  “Come for him,” Cole whispered. “You come for him. Show me what a good girl you are for him.” He squeezed her hands tighter, his strokes harder, deeper than she was used to from Cole.

  The way Mason unapologet
ically fucked her. The way Mason fucked him. Deep and raw and without holding back.

  She tipped her hips back slightly and there was the spot.

  Cole continued to channel him. Even his voice sounded deeper, the inflection Mason’s. “Be his good pet. Be his good girl.” He forced her head to the side with his and nipped at her neck. “Good pets come when they’re told to.”

  He bit, hard, and she fell over the edge as he started slamming his cock into her, not a hint of gentleness and driving even more pleasure through her until he finally came with a grunt of his own and fell still, his weight pressing her into the mattress.

  She pulled her hands free and wrapped her arms and legs around him as he started trembling. He tried to get up but she wouldn’t let go, making him stay there.

  And then his tears started again. She let him roll them to their sides as she held him.

  “Let it out,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

  “I love him,” he said.

  “I know. I love him, too. He’s ours, and we’ll fight for him. We’ll fight as hard as we need to and get him home and healed up.”

  She stroked his hair as she stared into his eyes. “I think this is for the best.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Not…this. I meant us. You and me. We already love each other. We already trust each other. We can do this for him. I’m going to fall apart. You’re going to fall apart. It’s okay.”

  “We need to try to contact his parents today.”

  “I think he has an address book on his desk.”

  “If we can’t find one, I can try getting into his laptop and get his contacts from there.”

  Her fingers stroked his forehead, caressed his lips. “I’m not just his pet,” she said. “I’m your pet, too.”

  A sad smile curved his lips as he pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I’m sorry I’m not better at all of that for you.”

  “It’s okay. Master told me I’m very well-trained. I’ll help you.”

  “You smell like him.”

  “I took a shower.”

  “Guess you need another one now.”

  She smiled. “That’s okay. I don’t mind smelling like you, too.”

  “I want you to be able to lean on me. I should be strong enough to do this for you.”

  She pulled both hands free and cupped his face in her hands, staring into his eyes. “You’re not just his boyfriend. You’re more than that to him, and he’s more than that to you. He said he wanted to talk a lot this weekend about the future with us. So I know we’re more than just boyfriend and girlfriend to him, too. And—”

  His phone rang. She was closer and reached for it, not recognizing the number as she passed it to him.

  Cole sat up. “Hello? Yes, this is Cole Singleton…”

  She sat up, untangling from him, watching his face.

  He frowned, then a hard, angry set to his jaw turned his expression murderous. “Good. Thank you for calling me… No, I just woke up. We’ll be heading there soon… Okay, thank you.”

  He hit end and stared at the phone.

  “Yeah?”

  He didn’t meet her gaze. “They caught the little fucker at one of those crappy old motels up on 301, just north of Sarasota, near the airport. About two hours ago. He was packing to leave.”

  “So he’s in jail?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Call Tilly and them and tell them. They can call Ed. Have him handle this. I don’t want him to bond out. Have Ed fight for bail so high they won’t let him out.”

  “Good point.” He sat up and made the call while she sat there, her arm around him, her head against his shoulder. He draped an arm around her while he talked to Tilly and assured her he could drive them to the hospital, but would appreciate her coordinating the legal end of things for now.

  Once he ended the call with Tilly, he plugged his phone back into the charger and looked down at her. “Shower?”

  She smiled. “I had one.”

  He cupped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her. “Funny, that wasn’t a request, pet.”

  “Then I guess I’m taking a shower with you, sir.”

  He smiled. “Good girl.”

  * * * *

  With a few swallows of coffee in him and standing under the spray, Cole was feeling a little more awake. He didn’t want to process whatever it was that swept through him earlier.

  It didn’t matter.

  His own little version of an emotional breakdown.

  Kim pulled her damp hair back into a messy bun and got into the shower with him, scrubbing his back for him, falling into a familiar pattern that was a small comfort to him as well.

  It was like he was with them, in a way. Helping them keep it together for each other.

  When they got dressed, he picked up her collar from the bathroom counter and carried it out into the bedroom, where he snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor.

  Without hesitation, she sank to her knees, waiting.

  He smiled. “You’re right, you are well-trained.”

  “I try, sir.”

  He buckled it around her neck and held out a hand for her, helping her up and pulling her into his arms.

  “Bagels. For both of us,” he added. “I know you’re not hungry, and neither am I, but we need food in us.”

  “Yes, sir.” When she turned to go do it, he delivered a swat to her ass. Not a playful one, but a hard one, the kind Mason would deliver.

  She cast a smile over her shoulder. “Looks like I’m not the only one well-trained, sir.”

  “He’s a good teacher and I pick things up. Food. Let’s get moving.”

  He went in search of an address book and found one on Mason’s desk in the spare bedroom he also used as a home office.

  It was close to eight o’clock by that time, so he called Corbin Lange first.

  It wasn’t until the other man’s phone was ringing that Cole realized he had no idea how to approach this conversation except directly. Mason had told them he’d told his dad he was dating.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, I’m sorry I’m calling so early. Is this Corbin Lange?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “My name’s Cole Singleton…”

  The man’s tone changed immediately once Cole told him what had happened. “Holy hell. Thank you for calling me, Cole. I’ll call Louise for you. I have her number.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you last night, but the police have his phone and I needed to find his address book here at the condo. It was so late when I got back—”

  “It’s okay, son,” the man said, a gentle tone that nearly took Cole’s knees out. “We couldn’t have done anything last night, anyway. Let me get some coffee in me and I’ll be over to the hospital in an hour or so.”

  Kim had their bagels ready. They quickly ate and headed out, and Cole even remembered to grab Mason’s wallet and slip it in his pocket in case they needed any of his information.

  They’d just walked into the waiting room when Tilly hurried in, homing in on them, Landry not far behind.

  “How is he?”

  “We just got here,” he said.

  They went back and the nurse in charge of Mason’s care for the day got the on-call doctor to come in and give them an update. No changes from earlier. He was still listed as critical, but stable. His vital signs were good, and all they could do was wait.

  Cole noticed Kim’s earlier strength seemed to disappear now that they were there with him. Tilly hugged them. “I’ll go out to the waiting room and catch anyone who shows up and hold them there.”

  “Thanks. We’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”

  The nurse gave them privacy, so Cole pulled the sliding door closed, as well as the curtain. He sat in the chair at Mason’s right and reached over to curl his fingers around Mason’s.

  Then, without taking his eyes from Mason’s battered face, with his other hand he snapped his fingers and pointed at th
e floor in front of him.

  Kim dropped to her knees, her head in Cole’s lap as she softly cried. He stroked her hair with one hand and stroked Mason’s fingers with the other.

  “I promise to do the best I can, Mase,” he told him. “I’ll take care of our pet, but I’m absolute shit at training her. We need you for that.” He was pleased to hear her shnurfled laughter against his jeans. “We need you, buddy. I hope you can hear me say that. We need you, and we love you.”

  He caught one of her hands and made her stand up. She leaned in and kissed Mason’s cheek, whispering to him before getting out of the way for Cole.

  Cole stood and leaned in, stroking the stubble on Mason’s cheek. “You’ve got a boyfriend and a pet eager to have you home. Don’t disappoint us. We love you.” He pressed his lips to Mason’s cheek, lingering.

  After a deep breath he draped an arm around Kim’s shoulders and led her out of the unit and back to the waiting room.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Corbin Lange apparently gave Mason his good looks, although Mason hadn’t inherited the man’s blue-grey eyes. In his mid-sixties, at Cole’s best guess, he was nearly as tall as Cole and had aged well.

  I wonder if Mason will look like that at his age.

  That was a wistfully painful thought he shoved aside as he, Kim, and Tilly talked with the man, alone, in the consultation room.

  The older man sat and traced the fake wood pattern of the conference table while Tilly went through the litany of Mason’s injuries and the current holding pattern in terms of prognosis. No one could or would give them any indication of what the future might hold.

  He didn’t look up from the table. “So don’t bullshit me.” He finally met her gaze. “We looking at full recovery? Life as a vegetable? What?”

  “We don’t know,” Tilly honestly said, her palms flat against the table. “Either of those, or somewhere in the middle. It’s impossible to say until his cranial swelling goes down and they can do detailed neurological testing.”