Liability

by Tymber Dalton

  Tilly had told them to speak to him. That they didn’t know what Mason could or couldn’t hear. What he could or couldn’t process. To talk to him, order him back, tell him they loved him.

  To make sure to keep talking to him, and to not stop.

  Mason’s bruises had started to morph into dark, angry shades of blue and purple and greenish brown that turned Cole’s stomach.

  Maybe I should go to that fucking hearing.

  No, then he’d be in jail with the little fucker who did this.

  Hmm.

  He sighed. No, that was a baaad idea, one Mason himself would likely nix. He had to take care of Mason, of Kim, of Mason’s parents. He needed to step in and do this for the man he loved, and for the woman he loved.

  Finally, he stood and leaned in, kissing Mason’s cheek.

  “I need to go to work. I’ll keep calling and checking up on you. And your mom and stepdad and dad will be here. Tilly said she’d get people here, too.”

  He finally forced himself to leave, stopping to talk to the nurse on his way out and alert her to the fact that Mason might have a bunch of visitors today, and to reassure himself that she had his and Kim’s cell phone numbers.

  As he sat in his car in the parking lot, he realized that he still had to notify Mason’s job.

  Dammit.

  He called his own job to let them know he was running a little late without getting into graphic details. Then he drove to the campus where Mason’s employer was located, stopping at the guard shack.

  Five minutes later, and with a visitor’s ID badge, he was standing in the building’s lobby, awaiting someone to talk to.

  One of the supervisors who worked under Mason emerged and led Cole to a nearby conference room to talk. Cole kept the facts brief.

  “I don’t know when he’s going to be able to come back to work,” he told the guy, who looked shell-shocked. “Right now, we’re in wait and see mode.”

  “Can he have visitors?”

  “He can, but he’s not conscious, and the visiting time and number of visitors is limited.”

  “Can I give you my cell number, and you can text me with updates? I’ll pass the word along to everyone.”

  “Thanks.” Cole did just that. “Let me know if there’s anything else I need to do for now.”

  “I’ll talk to HR and let you know. Man, I’m really sorry. We kind of need him around here, he’s amazing.”

  Cole fought the wave of sadness threatening to overwash him. “Yeah, he is. And so do we.”

  * * * *

  Cole called Kim and briefly updated her after he arrived at work and before he walked into the building. Tilly texted Cole when she arrived at the hospital a little after nine, reporting that Mason’s parents were there, too.

  At least there were boots on the ground, so to speak.

  Like Kim had rationalized, Cole knew he had to work, had to focus on his job now, and save his accumulated time off for when he’d really need it once Mason was up and moving and ready to come home.

  Or go to a rehab facility, which had also been mentioned.

  Since no one knew yet exactly what Mason’s abilities would be, or what care he’d require, all that was up in the air.

  A little before noon, he took a quick walk down to his own HR office in the building and gave them a heads-up that he had an ongoing family emergency. He stayed away from specifics, citing privacy issues and an ongoing criminal investigation, all of which were true.

  When Ed called him a little after noon, Cole closed his office door to talk to him. “Don’t keep me in suspense, please.”

  “No bond. As I expected. The DA who caught the case is a good one. He’ll nail the little bastard to the wall. There’s video evidence, his cell phone pings, the stuff they pulled off Mason’s phone—all of that makes this a slam-dunk. Oh, and…” Ed hesitated.

  “What?”

  “Physical evidence.”

  Cole closed his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “Just tell me.”

  “Blood on front-end damage on the guy’s car. You signed permission forms for them to take a sample from Mason at the hospital, so they’re still waiting on the results. But when it comes back as Mason’s blood, that’s it. Get this, little asshole tried to claim he hit a deer Saturday after he left his hotel.”

  “He’s not a Florida boy, is he?”

  “Nope. No deer in Sarasota. Not in the city. Maybe out in the eastern part of the county.”

  “Thanks for keeping me posted.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll stay on top of this for you. How is he today? Any change?”

  “Not yet. Tilly’s been texting me updates all morning.”

  Ed hesitated. “As his attorney, I have to make certain judgment calls. I know he loves you and Kim, but I don’t have paperwork for you from him. Your names aren’t on anything. If his parents start trying to fight you guys, legally there might not be too much I can do.”

  “I hope that won’t be a problem. They seemed relieved that we want to take charge.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  When Cole got off the phone with Ed, he checked in again with Kim. She sounded a little weepy, but it was a relief to know she was handling things as best she could.

  “What did Emery say when you told him?”

  “You mean after I got done snot-sobbing on his shoulder?” she asked. She punctuated that comment with a sad chuckle. “He understands and said he’ll work with me on time off.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah.” She hesitated for a moment. “What do you want me to do about this evening?” she asked, almost sounding timid.

  It took him a moment to realize she sounded close to dropping into sub mode.

  “Let’s both go to our respective places after work, pack for several days, and meet up at Mason’s. Then we can go to the hospital together from there.”

  “Thank you.”

  He really hoped she didn’t try to rely on him for that, to be a “Sir” to her. He didn’t think he could emotionally handle it at that point.

  Hell, it was all he could do to remain vertical right now and not curled up into a fetal position.

  How could they go from a fucking high point of Friday night and Saturday morning, of starting to dig into the topic of where to steer their complicated emotional ball of whatever it was that they had, to now trying to claw their way out of an emotional tar pit?

  “Love you, sweetheart,” he said. “I need to go eat something for lunch. Make sure you get something to eat.”

  “Em brought me a salad. I’m staring at it right now.”

  Cole sighed. “Please eat. You need to. You can’t get sick. I need your help. I can’t do this alone.”

  “God, we’re a mess, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah, but no matter what, we’ll figure our way out through this. Together.”

  “Together.”

  * * * *

  On the way to the hospital that evening with Cole driving them, Kim tried not to obsess on a future not yet certain for Mason. Seeing the deep lines in Cole’s face when she met him at Mason’s condo also drove home the fact that she needed to try to be strong for him.

  Mason had a CT scan that afternoon, Tilly reported, and the good news was that it did look like the swelling was starting to marginally decrease. But Mason still needed to stay in the ICU for now.

  Mason’s mom and stepdad weren’t there, but his dad and Tilly were. Tilly greeted them with a hug when they walked into the waiting room. “Hey. No change.”

  “Is that bad?” Kim asked.

  “It’s…expected,” Tilly said. “This is a healing process at this point. As long as he doesn’t have any infections or other complications, it’s just waiting for Mason’s body to do its own thing and heal.”

  She walked back with them to Mason’s bed. Kim briefly closed her eyes and swallowed hard when she saw his face, his bruises in stark contrast to his pale skin.

  The anger—rage that washed thro
ugh her.

  This isn’t fair.

  They were happy. They had everything they wanted, and more.

  They had Mason.

  What right did that guy have to think he could try to take Mason from them?

  Tilly rested a hand on Kim’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  Kim shook her head before opening her eyes.

  It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real, and it was their life for the foreseeable future.

  “PT came by today and—”

  “PT?” Cole asked.

  “Physical Therapy,” Tilly clarified. “Sorry. Force of habit. They came in today to evaluate him. There are exercises we can start doing for him to keep him from having as many issues…”

  Kim and Cole both paid attention as Tilly unhooked the air-activated boots that covered Mason’s feet and lower legs, like large blood pressure cuffs. Then she showed them how to manipulate, stretch, and move his legs and feet without jiggling him too much. Exercises that should be done ideally several times a day.

  “And the good news is that hopefully in a few days they’ll be moving him into a different ICU section. He’ll be stepped down from there based on how he does. Right now, he needs the ICU monitoring because of the skull fracture and swelling. But when they move him, you’ll be able to spend more time with him then.”

  Kim studied Cole’s face. Not only did he bear deep lines around his eyes, around his sweet mouth, but he looked as heartbroken as she felt. And, of course, she knew he was.

  “Thank you for all your help, Tilly,” Kim said as she put the boots back on Mason under Tilly’s watchful eye. “We couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

  “Well, I have to go back out to LA next week, so I want to do as much as I can while I can. But I’m a phone call or text away. If something happens you don’t understand, call me, day or night, and put me on the phone with whoever it is and I’ll talk to them for you. Seriously, any time of day or night.”

  It was nearly midnight by the time they left the hospital. Mason’s dad had left earlier, as had Tilly.

  “We never ate dinner,” Cole said.

  “I think there’s still leftovers in Master’s—” Her jaw snapped shut on that, trying to seal the choked sob inside her and not let it out.

  Cole reached over and patted her thigh, squeezing. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Call him Master.”

  “I’m torn between feeling numb and feeling shredded inside.” Her hand found his and she laced fingers with him.

  “I know. Me, too.”

  When they returned to Mason’s condo, they fixed a quick dinner together and then collapsed into bed. She’d brought Mason’s pillows back with her from her place.

  “I love you,” she whispered against Cole’s chest. “I never want to forget to say that to you in case it’s the last thing I ever get to say to you.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too, sweetheart. And ditto. But you’re not allowed to go dying on me and Mason or anything.”

  She snuggled even closer. “Neither are you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Wednesday night, Cole was at Mason’s bedside in the ICU when they came to take him for another CT scan. Cole had already made Kim go back to Mason’s, the exhaustion and the stress wearing on her in a painfully palpable way.

  He couldn’t deal with his own pain and hers, so he’d somehow faked a “masterly” tone to order her to get some sleep. Corbin had dropped her off on his way home.

  Now Cole was alone with Mason.

  Well, except for the medical staff.

  “Can I go with him for the scan?” he’d asked the nurse.

  She offered him a kindly smile. She’d been the nurse on duty when Mason had been admitted to the ICU after surgery. “Sure. Come on.”

  Cole followed along to radiology, even helping transfer Mason to the machine, and standing back in the control room with most of the staff.

  “Can you tell if there are any differences?” he asked as they finished up the scans.

  The nurse touched his hand and gave him another of those smiles. “They can, but they’re not allowed to. We’ll hear from his doctor. I’ll make sure to page the on-call to see if we can get a reading sooner than in the morning.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cole helped get Mason transferred back to his bed, which they’d rolled him in down to the radiology department. It was over an hour later when a doctor about Cole’s own age walked in with a laptop and closed the door behind him.

  “Mr. Singleton?” He reached out to shake hands before pulling up a rolling stool the nurse sat on to work on Mason’s chart.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I have…guarded news.”

  “Guarded?”

  “There is improvement. I’m going to leave notes for neurology for in the morning to do another evaluation. We might be able to move him to the other side of the ICU. Now, I know that’s not a lot of good news, but as long as he continues to improve, we might be looking at bringing him out of sedation in a few days.”

  Cole didn’t want to let hope flare in his chest. He wanted to stomp it down and keep it under wraps so he didn’t jinx anything.

  He damn sure didn’t want to tell Kim yet and instill false hope in her.

  He finally returned to Mason’s a little before four a.m. He’d already decided to call in to work, both due to his exhaustion and because he wanted to talk to the doctor himself that morning.

  And if Mason was moved, he wanted to be there for it.

  He curled up with Kim and got a little sleep, at least.

  The next morning, he sent Kim off to work with a stern order to try to actually work, and that he would be with Mason all day. Tilly arrived at the hospital five minutes after he did, and they were sitting by Mason’s bed when the neurologist did rounds.

  Cole was happy to have Tilly there. Between his own exhaustion and feeling completely overwhelmed, he needed Tilly to translate the medical jargon and break it down to salient points he could understand. Yes, he worked in the medical field, but not like this.

  “So we’ll move him to the other side this afternoon,” the doctor summarized. “As long as he continues to improve, we’ll do another CT scan and then look at getting him awake.”

  Cole’s focus snapped into place. “Awake?”

  Tilly slipped her arm around his waist. “Awake.”

  * * * *

  Cole waited to update Kim with the latest news until they’d actually moved Mason. In this side of the ICU, while the number of visitors at any given time was limited, the time they could spend there wasn’t.

  Cole could practically camp out there if he wanted.

  After Tilly and Cole talked with Mason’s new nurse and he was settled into his new space, Tilly went out to update Mason’s parents and the friends who’d stopped by to see him.

  Cole collapsed into the recliner that was at Mason’s bedside and stared at his face. The NG tube they’d put in on Tuesday while Cole was at work still…his own stomach rolled a little. He knew it was necessary to make sure they could feed Mase, but…

  No, medical play definitely wasn’t a fetish he’d ever have.

  Although he knew he’d need to force himself to get used to this. If Mase never woke, up, or if Mase was completely incapacitated, he could have an NG tube for a while. Or, Tilly had warned, possibly a permanent feeding tube inserted into his stomach.

  It wasn’t an eventuality Cole wanted to think about just yet. If it happened, he’d deal with it then.

  He focused on Mason’s closed eyes. The bruises on his face and elsewhere were starting to fade from blackish purple into a deep blue, the lighter bruises taking on sickly greens and browns.

  The million-dollar question, of course, was that no one knew what kind of damage he’d sustained, neurologically speaking. Yes, he wasn’t brain dead. They knew that. But what kinds of rehab he’d need after they got him awake again, that was still in the air. Mason had sustained a traumat
ic brain injury, and what little Cole had Googled left him not wanting to read any more because he didn’t want to know the worst-case scenario.

  Tilly had reluctantly told him, after some prodding on his part, that if the best-case scenario came true, Mason might be discharged from the hospital in a few weeks and go home and be almost fine.

  Or…not.

  She also cautioned him, as had the doctors, that Mason might face months or years of intensive rehab care.

  It was just too soon to tell.

  Cole wanted to focus on the positives. He wanted to believe the man he loved—they loved—would come back to them whole and loving them.

  If Mason didn’t…they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. He’d meant every word he’d said to Mason’s parents. He would spend the rest of his life caring for Mason, if that’s what it took. He wouldn’t abandon him just because of this.

  Even if the worst-case came to be, he’d never see Mason as a liability.

  Just like if it was Kim in that bed, he’d never abandon her, either.

  He reached out and stroked Mason’s right hand. “Come back to us, buddy. Please. We love you.”

  * * * *

  It was ten days after the attack, on a Tuesday evening. Since they’d moved Mason from the surgical ICU to the other side of the unit, Cole had been camped out at Mason’s bedside in the ICU as much as they would let him. He had to work, but spent most nights there, showering at Mason’s since his place was the closest to the hospital. During the days, even though Tilly had gone to LA, she’d assembled a crew of their friends to come in and sit with Mason in rotating shifts so he was never alone even while Cole and Kim had to work.

  Even if Mason wasn’t conscious, Cole didn’t want him left alone.

  Cole and Kim helped bathe Mason, made sure to do the physical therapy exercises on his legs every time they were there visiting, and learned as much about his care as they could from the nursing staff so they could participate.