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Mason didn’t wait around to answer. He ran from the study as fast as his legs would carry him, heading straight for the patio doors.
Addison. Her name repeated in his head in time with his heartbeat. He’d know her scream anywhere. If she was hurt...it didn’t even bear thinking about.
Only slowing down enough to open the French doors without shattering the glass, Mason sprinted out onto the patio, gaze sweeping the garden for a glimpse of honey blond hair.
He found her kneeling in the snow beneath the kitchen windows, in between two square-shaped bushes. Her shoulders shook with her sobs.
“Addison?” he said hesitantly, skidding to a stop behind her. “What’s—oh God.”
She cradled an unmoving cardinal in her hand, his right wing bent all wrong, the bright red feathers sticking out at odd angles. “I h-heard something hit the window,” she said, struggling to get the words out through her tears. “So I came out to check. And Alexander...he...” She dissolved into another fit of sobs.
Kneeling down beside her, he examined the tiny bird. “He’s still breathing.” The words left him in a rush. Thank fucking Christ he wasn’t already dead. Flying into a window like that had the potential to snap a bird’s neck. “We can try to help him.”
Addison’s head shot up, her puffy, red eyes finding his. “Do you think so?”
Standing, Mason stripped off his suit jacket, holding it out between his arms. “Put him in here,” he instructed, carefully handing her the bundle once the little red bird rested against the black silk. Then he looked up, finding Luca and Kendra watching through the row of windows. “Bring us a box,” he said, loud enough for them to hear through the glass. “Something with a lid.”
Kendra sprinted into the pantry, disappearing from view for only a few seconds before she emerged with a large cardboard box, shaking what looked like onion skin from it as she ran to the door. “Here,” she said as soon as she joined them in the garden, shoving the box against Mason’s chest. “Will this work?”
“It’s perfect, thank you,” he said, holding it steady as Addison carefully lowered the injured bird into the box, nestled in his little silk bed.
Luca came out of the kitchen next, a long, thin knife in his hand. “Give me the lid,” he said, and began poking holes in it as soon as Kendra handed it over.
While the chef worked, Mason pulled out his phone, keying in a quick Google search. “Look,” he said, holding out his phone so Addison could see the screen. “There’s a wild bird rehabilitation center less than an hour from here.” Hitting the call button right over their address, he held the phone up to his ear.
Clutching the box to her chest, Addison watched him with worried, tear-filled eyes as the phone rang. “Did they not answer?” she asked a second before their voicemail message started.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “No, they didn’t answer. Hold on.” As soon as the beep sounded, he rattled off his name and number, then explained the situation. “Please give me a call back as soon as you can. In the meantime, we’re on our way to you. We should arrive in less than an hour. I hope to hear from you soon.”
“We’re actually going?” Addison asked the second he ended the call. Her voice held equal parts worry and hope.
Checking to make sure his keys were in his pocket, he nodded. “Let’s go. The sooner we get there, the better.”
“Don’t you have a guest, though?” she said, a catch in her voice.
“Fuck.” He completely forgot about Tara. Opening his phone again, he hit the first name on his favorites list.
Jonathan answered on the third ring. “Jesus Christ, Mason. It’s not even nine in the morning yet.” Sleep clung to his voice. “Liz and I only went to bed a couple hours ago, so this better be good.”
“I have an emergency.”
The grogginess left his voice in an instant. “What is it? Is someone hurt?”
“Not exactly.” He did his best to explain about Alexander as succinctly as he could. “I need to drive Addison and the bird down to the rehabilitation center to see if they can save him, but Tara’s here again this week.”
“For fuck’s sake, man,” Jonathan said, and he could tell his friend had run out of patience at last. “You can’t just leave a guest like this. Especially not over a half-dead bird. Why do you even care?”
Mason had absolutely no idea how to answer. Not when Addison, Kendra, and Luca would hear every word.
After several seconds, Jonathan sighed. “It’s not the bird. It’s the girl.”
He echoed his friend’s sigh. There was no point in denying it. “Yes.”
“Go.” Now Jonathan sounded resigned more than anything else. “I’ll take care of it.”
Mason closed his eyes for a second as he breathed out a sigh of relief. Through every single thing that happened in the nearly twenty years of their friendship, he could always count on Jonathan no matter what. He only hoped he could fix this—that sometime soon, his best friend would be able to feel the same way about him again. “Thank you. She’s in the study.”
“Good luck,” was all Jonathan said before ending the call.
