Liability [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  Maybe instead of getting Kim wound up before the club he’d use their time after dinner to talk about this.

  Might be best.

  Wanting to have as much time as possible later, he opted to load his toybag into the trunk now. After checking all the windows and doors were locked, he headed down the walk, popping the trunk with the button on his key fob. It was already dark as he rearranged a couple of things to make room for the bag.

  Need to get a new one. This one’s kind of old and heavy. And getting heavier.

  That made him smile.

  He didn’t pay any attention to the headlights coming toward him as he closed the trunk and turned to make the walk back to the driver’s door.

  He didn’t have time to register the pain, the sensation of falling, immediately followed by more pain.

  Then his world shifted to black.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mason’s car wasn’t in the lot at Sigalo’s when Cole pulled in at five ’til six. Kim practically bounced and vibrated in the passenger seat next to him.

  And she didn’t even have any insertable vibrators in place, either.

  He smiled. “Calm down. We’ll have all night and tomorrow with him.”

  “He said the L word!” She grinned. “To both of us!”

  Cole knew all about this because he’d read about it. NRE, or new relationship energy, as the poly people dubbed it. He felt it, too.

  This was like when he and Kim first started seeing each other all over again and had bridged that step to the next level, the stage when both of them knew it was serious and that they didn’t want it to end.

  Neither of them wanted this to end with Mason.

  “Do we wait for him?” she asked.

  “It’s okay. Let’s get inside and grab our seats. We can reserve one for him.”

  He sent Mason a quick text. We’re here, going inside. See you soon. Love you.

  They weren’t the first arrivals. Tilly and Cris were there, although Landry was absent. “No big guy tonight?” Cole teased.

  Tilly wore her leather collar, the one even Cole knew meant Cris held the reins tonight. “No,” Cris said with a smile. “He offered to stay home and do baby duty tonight. I think he’s worn out from work this week and wanted to stay home.”

  “How goes the property search?” Kim asked as she took the cloth napkin from the place setting on her other side and draped it over the back of the chair next to her to hold the seat for Mason.

  “Working on it,” Tilly said. “Ideally, I’d like some property maybe out in east Venice, not too far from the gang.” That was her nickname for their three friends she worked with.

  Ross and Loren showed up then, nearly at the same time as Ed Payne and his wife, Hope. Tony and Shayla soon followed, and others.

  By now it was a quarter after, and still no Mason.

  Totally unlike the man to be that late and not text.

  “Did he text you?” Cole asked Kim.

  Frowning, she dug her phone out of her purse and looked. “No.” She realized now what time it was. “I hope everything’s okay.” He watched her text Mason.

  “What’s wrong?” Tilly asked from across the table.

  “Oh, probably nothing,” Cole said. “Mason’s apparently running late.”

  Tilly smiled. “Master’s prerogative.”

  Cole hooked a thumb at Kim. “Her Master, not mine. He’s my boyfriend.”

  “At least someone else finally gets the ‘it’s complicated’ designation around here,” Gilo teased from the other end of the table.

  Cole laughed at that, but sent Mason another text at twenty after. You’re starting to worry me. Everything okay? Where are you? Do you want me to order for you?

  Instead of slipping the phone back into his pocket, he laid it on the table in front of him, next to his plate where he could see it.

  It was 6:35, and still no text.

  Cole couldn’t help the fear starting to congeal in his stomach.

  Kim looked down at his phone, then up at him, her brow furrowed with worry.

  He reached out and gently squeezed her hand and seized the only thing that he could think of that would make Mason leave them hanging like this.

  “I’d bet that something blew up at work again.”

  “What?” Tony asked, his ear catching the tail end of that.

  “Mason was telling us something about the downtime they had on Thursday giving him a massive headache. A process or something kept fouling up. He was dealing with it yesterday, all the way into the afternoon, and even late last night on a conference call. He had to finish some reports this afternoon.”

  Tony knowingly nodded. “He might be driving here now and talking on his work phone. Mason’s a good guy. He wouldn’t stand you up without a serious reason like that.”

  That Tony immediately thought that reassured Cole.

  Of course it had to be that.

  It was 6:42 and they were already eating their entrees. Cole picked up his phone and sent another text.

  Should I order a to-go for you? Love you.

  When Cole’s phone rang almost immediately from Mason’s number, Cole decided to tease him a little. “So, do I need to bring your food to you for another night at home while you work, or will you make it here to eat with us, buster?”

  “Who am I speaking with, please?” the male voice asked, chilling Cole.

  Cole was already rising, hurrying away from the table.

  He didn’t recognize the male voice, but he recognized the tone. Professional. Courteous.

  Like a cop.

  “This is Cole Singleton. Who are you, and why are you calling from my boyfriend’s phone?”

  “Mr. Singleton, my name is Captain Charles Borreantz from the Florida Highway Patrol. You’re Mason Lange’s boyfriend?”

  He’d hit the front door and stood in the cool night air, trying not to hyperventilate. He realized not only had Kim followed him out the door, but so had Tilly. “Yes. Please, tell me he’s okay? He’s supposed to be here for dinner.” God, that sounded stupid to even his ears, but maybe if he kept talking, Mason would be okay.

  “Mr. Singleton, Mr. Lange’s been in a very serious accident…”

  At some point, he realized he was staring into Tilly’s eyes and she now had his phone. He didn’t know when that had happened, except that it was at some point between the trooper giving him details about what happened and then to what hospital the ambulance had taken Mason. Kim was in his arms, her arms tightly wrapped around him, his around her, and Tilly had taken over.

  “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Thank you, officer.” She hung up and snapped her fingers at Cole. “Give me your keys.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not driving. Give me your keys.”

  “But our—”

  She snapped her fingers again. “Cris will pay the checks and follow us with our food.” Her hand was still out.

  Reaching into his pocket meant letting go of Kim with one arm, but he managed it and somehow fumbled his keys out and into Tilly’s palm. She raced back inside and reappeared at lightning speed with both her purse and Kim’s, as well as both their jackets. She hustled them into the car, Cole opting to get into the backseat with Kim.

  “How is he?” Kim tearfully asked him.

  He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I don’t know, pet,” he said.

  Tilly drove like a demon with the entire chorus of angels on her ass and shooting holy water at her through a fire hose. A drive to that hospital would normally take about twenty minutes. Tilly had told the officer they’d be there in fifteen, and she made it in eight.

  They were no sooner climbing out of the back seat when Tilly hustled them into the ER, found out where they needed to be, ushered them through getting visitor badges, and got them to the correct waiting room where a state trooper and a Sarasota County deputy were also waiting.

  Mason was in surgery, and that’s all anyone could tell them at
that moment. A nurse would come update them as soon as they had news. Tilly hit hard and heavy on the fact that Cole was Mason’s boyfriend so no one would give them any grief, and then she tackled the question that had been on their minds.

  “What the hell happened?” she asked after turning to the two officers.

  The trooper was apparently heading the investigation, which Cole knew was bad.

  Very bad.

  They usually only brought troopers in when there was serious injury or death.

  “From witness statements, Mr. Lange had apparently just put something in his trunk when a car hit him and kept going. We’re still—”

  “Wait, what?” Tilly asked. “In his trunk?”

  “He was still at home?” Cole managed.

  The trooper nodded. “He was in the parking lot at his condo complex. Several witnesses saw it happen. The car sped off. They’re looking at security camera footage now to see if we can get a license plate.”

  The trooper explained how the force of the impact knocked Mason through the air, where he slammed into another parked car before bouncing off of that and hitting the sidewalk.

  “So whoever it was…they just kept going?” Cole asked. “How could they do that?”

  “Unfortunately,” Trooper Borreantz said, “this is not an uncommon occurrence. The driver was probably either drunk, driving on a suspended or revoked license, or isn’t supposed to be driving at all under the circumstances. Or it could be a stolen car.”

  He held out a plastic bag. Cole stared at it, mentally and emotionally unable to process the contents, at first. Fortunately it was Tilly who finally reached out and took it from the trooper. Inside lay Mason’s wallet, keys, watch, spare change and bills from his pocket, and his phone. Cole kept Kim’s face pressed against his shoulder so she didn’t see it, especially when Tilly took it and tucked it into her purse to hold on to for him.

  “Thank you,” he mouthed to her.

  She nodded and engulfed Kim in a hug from the other side.

  The trooper and deputy had questions for them about Mason, his activities that day, their plans. Routine questions. They were in the middle of that when the deputy received a phone call on his cell. A moment later, he was showing them a video on his phone, which Cole wouldn’t let Kim watch.

  It was a clip of security footage from one camera that caught the way the driver deliberately veered across the lot and into Mason, sending him flying. And another shot, taken from near the front gate, showing the rear of the car leaving the complex, including a clear shot of its Nebraska license plate.

  “They’ve already run the number,” the deputy said. “Registered to a Fred Stacker from Omaha.”

  “Fred? Tilly, can I have…?” He pointed to her purse, then his ear, not wanting to say it out loud around Kim. He could tell she was barely keeping herself together, and he knew if she totally lost it, he might not be able to stay strong for her.

  Tilly dug Mason’s phone out of the bag and handed it to him. It took Cole a couple of tries, but he finally got it unlocked. He hadn’t known Mason’s code, but had seen him unlock the phone enough times he knew the pattern the man used.

  He went to texts and pulled them up. Sure enough, there was a thread there from a contact marked Freddie.

  He showed it to the trooper and deputy, who quickly frowned. “And a call to him not too long before the accident,” the trooper said. He read Freddie’s number off to the deputy, who wrote it down. “We’ll have the phone’s location tracked. We’ve got law enforcement going to his address in Nebraska to see if anyone knows where he is right now. Who is this guy?”

  “He’s Mason’s ex. Mason broke up with him before he moved back to Florida. Months ago, now.”

  “When Mr. Lange moved back to Florida?” the deputy clarified.

  “Right. I know he’s told both of us that Freddie kept bugging him,” Cole said. “He’d told the guy a lot of times that he wasn’t going to be anything but friends with him.”

  “I think we have motive,” Tilly snarked.

  Cole shot her a glance, but the black look on her face shocked him.

  She looked like she wanted to mow the guy down herself.

  “It looks like it,” the deputy said. “Guy can’t take a hint and goes off the deep end.”

  Most of the others arrived then, including Landry and Cris, who’d apparently run home to get the man and drop their daughter off with friends. Neither Cole nor Kim had any appetite to finish eating their food. They all sat quietly waiting for word from the OR. The officers left their cards and information and a case number, promising to call when they had any new information. After Cole unlocked Mason’s phone and changed the settings so it didn’t require a log-in, the officers took it as evidence, promising to get it back to them as soon as possible.

  Kim sat curled up in Cole’s lap, her head resting against his shoulder, her feet in the chair next to him. He held on to her, afraid to let go.

  “What about his parents?” Tilly somberly asked. “Do you have their information?”

  Cole forced his brain to engage through the hazy curtain of shock and anger and grief threatening to engulf him. “Probably on his phone. I’ll have to go to his place and see if he’s got it written down anywhere. His dad’s local, but his mom’s in Miami.”

  He realized he was stroking Kim’s hair, an unconscious gesture, not even so much to comfort her as to comfort himself.

  It was two long hours later when a tired-looking doctor in scrubs came out to get Cole to talk to him. He took Cole, and Kim and Tilly—who Cole had snagged by the hand—into a consultation room off the main waiting room to talk.

  “How is he?” Cole asked, terrified of his answer. Kim had a death grip on his left hand, and Tilly had reached over to take his right, squeezing it with both hands, stroking his hand, comforting.

  “His condition’s serious,” the doctor said. “I’m concerned mostly about the swelling…” Cole checked out after that, letting Tilly take over and ask the questions. The prognosis was literally up in the air because they couldn’t tell what the long-term effects of Mason’s injuries would be. And no way to begin to tell that until he woke up.

  Which wouldn’t be for several days, at least. Not until the brain swelling went down from the head trauma. He had a skull fracture, and when Cole saw that Tilly was paying attention and grokking the details, he tuned the rest out. He was doing good not to throw up already.

  The details would shove him over the edge.

  And then there were still the risks of complications from Mason’s punctured lung and the surgery to remove his spleen and stop other internal bleeding. His left wrist had fractured, as had his left clavicle, but those were minor compared to everything else. Miraculously, he’d only sustained bruises on his legs, no fractures, breaks, or joint injuries.

  Once the doctor finished talking and answering their questions, he led the three of them back to the surgical ICU, where Mason had been taken.

  The man was barely recognizable, tubes and monitor leads and—

  Cole closed his eyes and swallowed, hard, not wanting to lose his dinner.

  I have to be strong.

  It was Kim’s soft, choked sob that realigned his world. He pulled her into his arms as Tilly crowded in close on her other side and wrapped her arms around both of them.

  “Be strong,” Tilly whispered. “Remember, he might be able to hear you, even though he’s sedated. Tell him you love him. Tell him we’re all here for him. Hell, order him to get better. But don’t give up.”

  He stared into Tilly’s eyes and took another deep breath.

  “It’s okay,” she silently mouthed to him. “I’m here.”

  Only when Cole was sure that he wouldn’t throw up did he finally untangle himself from the two women and move over to Mason’s bedside. He stood on Mason’s right and slipped two of his fingers under Mason’s palm, lightly stroking the back of Mason’s hand with his other.

  Leaning in, he brus
hed a kiss against Mason’s cheek before pressing his lips to the man’s ear.

  “I love you, Mase. Please come back to us. We don’t care how, but we both need you and love you.”

  After Kim got to lean in and kiss him, too, Cole and Tilly led her back to the waiting room.

  That’s when Cole realized both Kim and Tilly were still wearing collars. When he tried to take Kim’s off, she clamped her hands around it and shook her head.

  Tilly reached over and laid her hand over his. “It’s okay,” she softly said. “We’re beyond that right now. She needs it.” She unfastened her own and wrapped it around her right wrist several turns before buckling it again.

  With a sad sigh, he held Kim close, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head and wishing he could comfort her…more.

  That was impossible, however, because he knew nothing could comfort him. How could he expect to comfort her when she was hurting just as badly as he was?

  It was nearly one a.m. when Tilly finally corralled them and talked them into leaving the hospital. They all needed sleep, and for now, at least, there wasn’t anything to do.

  But Cole and Kim didn’t want to go home.

  Cris took Cole’s car keys while Tilly rode with Landry. They drove them to Mason’s condo.

  There was a big dent and paint scrape along the back of Mason’s car. Cole sent Kim on ahead into the condo after making sure Tilly had the keys, while he and Landry and Cris looked at the result.

  He wouldn’t let Kim see that video the deputy had shown him. He couldn’t.

  Just thinking about it, and now seeing the scene of the attack in person, filled Cole with anger. As he stared at the spot on the sidewalk where he knew Mason had landed because of the blood stains, he clenched his fists, struggling not to scream in rage and anger and grief.

  Landry and Cris stood on either side of him, hands on his shoulders.

  “Remember that you must be there and stay strong for Mason and for Kim,” Landry quietly said. “There will be time for anger—later. Right now, you must do what must be done.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Cole admitted. “I thought I did. A few months ago, I would have known exactly what to do. How do I comfort her and be strong for her when I need him? How the hell did I fall in love with him so fast?”