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Maison’s hands pause where they were trying to get me to move up toward the pillows. He doesn’t seem to be breathing.
“Were those the wrong words too?” I ask with a frown. “My head hurts.”
Maison picks me up then, apparently no longer willing to try to nudge me in the right direction. He cradles me in one arm, which is incredibly sexy, as he pulls down the blankets. Then he settles me against the pillows and tucks me in. His fingers feel shaky when he brushes stray hair off my face.
“No, baby,” he whispers, bringing his lips to press a kiss to my forehead. “Not the wrong words at all.”
I don’t exactly remember what he’s talking about, but I’m too tired to ask. I just close my eyes and breathe him in as he settles beside me. His arms are warm and comforting wrapped around my body, his scent familiar, his heartbeat steady and strong.
“Safe,” I realize just as I’m drifting off. “The word was safe.”
An alarm wakes me. Not a normal alarm, not the kind someone sets on their phone or clock. This is urgent and shrill and causes immediate fear despite me never having heard it before. I lurch upright just in time to see Maison roll out of bed and grab his gun from the nightstand. It’d be comical if I wasn’t suddenly terrified.
“What’s happening?” I ask, my brain fogged with a mixture of tequila-hangover and panic. “What’s wrong?”
“Stay!” Maison orders, already at the door. He’s only in his boxer briefs.
I huff, tossing the blankets back and forcing my body out of bed despite how badly my head hurts.
“Stay,” I mumble, huffing a second time. I’m still mostly dressed from when Maison put me to bed last night. Dressed enough to feel comfortable going after him. “Stay, my ass.”
I don’t know which direction Maison went in since he’s already long gone when I get into the hall. I head downstairs, figuring that’s the most likely first place to check, and run into Ace. He gives me a single look before saying, “Stay.”
I huff yet again—it’s apparently going to be that kind of day—and let him get a head start before following behind him. The emergency seems to be in the pool area, my stomach dropping at the realization. Casey is the only one who spends time in the pool. Anyone else that goes in there is only in there because they’re hanging out with him.
Maison is standing in the open doorway, Ace by his side. I sink back around the corner when Jake steps between them with Casey in his arms. There’s a blanket wrapped around him, his hair dripping wet. What the hell?
“He’s okay,” Jake tells them.
Casey mumbles something before lifting his head to look at Maison and Ace. “Please don’t tell him.”
“We won’t tell anyone,” Maison promises. “It’s no one’s business.”
Jake thanks them as he brings a hand up to cradle the back of Casey’s head. He guides Casey’s face into the crook of his neck. Jake’s eyes find me as they approach. I slink further away from their path, not wanting to bother them when they’re clearly upset. Jake gives me a slight nod as he passes me before Casey asks him, “You still love me?”
I watch them go, my heart in my throat. Something bad happened. Something really bad. Why else would Casey worry about Jake not loving him anymore?
“I should go find Dr. Singh,” I hear Maison tell Ace. “He’ll want to know what happened.”
“What did happen?” Ace asks, his voice strained. “Did he—was that what I think it was? Did he just try to…?”
“I don’t know. He came up on his own. I heard him saying it to Jake, saying he breathed like it was something he had to decide to do.” Maison rubs the back of his neck. “I think maybe he considered it, at the very least.”
Considered it.
Suicide.
God, they’re talking about fucking suicide, aren’t they?
I step out of the shadows, arms around my stomach to keep the nausea at bay. Ace heads into the pool room, mumbling something I can’t hear. Maison turns toward me just as I call, “Maison?”
Maison’s gaze snaps to mine, his body swaying in Ace’s direction for just a moment before coming toward me instead. He settles just a foot away from me, arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows knitted together. The urge to fall to my knees and apologize is so intense I nearly give in. He’s not your master, a voice whispers in my head. Don’t be stupid.
“I told you to stay.”
God, even his voice is so damn deep and demanding right now. Maybe I should get in trouble with him more often…
Suicide, that voice reminds me. Your friend may have just tried to commit suicide. Priorities, you terrible fucking person. “Is Casey going to be okay?”
