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Heartache instead of happiness now lay in my future.
“Yes,” I whispered, sealing my fate.
Chapter8
Jasper
Detective Jenner had to have noted the change on Mason’s placid face at the mention of Joseph Delaney. But did he sense the bloodcurdling terror, the anguish, in answering he had seen the knife before?
With that one whispered word, Mason’s expression once more morphed beneath my intense stare.
It was like a veil slipped over his head, hiding everything he thought, everything he felt, similar to what he had done when we’d arrived at the station but ten times as effective. He’d become a blank shell, a mask replacing his usually expressive face. Even his sweaty hold on my hand relaxed as though he’d found some inner peace when seconds before he’d clung to me as if I was a ring buoy he grasped in order to stay afloat.
Mason had big feelings. He also obviously didn’t know how to process them.
I dealt with similar people at Humanity House. While I didn’t have a degree in psychology, I’d spent hours with our kids and co-workers, learning all I could in order to be a better ally to those who utilized our free mental health services.
Zeke Sipe, our head counselor, had become a good friend and helped me better understand what some of the kids went through on a daily basis. Add in emotional dysregulation, a core symptom of ADHD, which a few of our kids had been diagnosed with, and we sometimes had delicate cases on our hands.
That was what I witnessed taking place inside Mason.
“Can we have a minute, Detective?” I asked, giving my attention to the man across the table.
He studied Mason with a furrowed brow, definitely aware of the flip of an emotional switch. Nodding, Detective Jenner pushed back his chair. “I’ll go get us some water.”
“Thank you.”
Once the door shut behind him, I shifted sideways.
Mason stared at the table as though absent. Unfazed by his situation.
I wanted toknowhim, to help carry the burden of all his secrets. But would he let me? We didn’t have the luxury of time on our hands, and I couldn’tmakehim trust me, but I wished I could.
“Hey.” I grasped his chin and turned his face toward me.
He blinked, his eyes clearing somewhat.
“There you are.” I smiled and stroked his whiskers in the way I’d noticed he enjoyed. “This is all pretty upsetting, but I’m here, Mason. I’m not leaving. Focus on my hands touching you. Can you feel how much I enjoy being with you? How badly I want to take care of you?”
Mason nodded, a barely there dip of his head.
I leaned in and pressed my lips to his in a chaste kiss, lingering until his mouth softened beneath mine. “I know things are happening quickly between us, but what I feel, the draw to you, is potent. You’re like the sweetest treat I can’t deny myself. You’re addictive. Delicious on my tongue.”
More of the haunted expression in his eyes faded, and he released a shuddered sigh.
“Tell me what you need, Mason, and I’ll give it to you,” I pushed, recognizing the fact his thoughts had been redirected. Zeke had told me that was the number one helpful tool in the box of tricks to help someone dealing with dysregulation. “Another kiss?” I offered one before Mason answered. “A hug?” I wrapped my free arm around him, careful of the bandage on his shoulder. “Assurance of how sexy I think you are, how perfectly we seem to fit together in every way?”
He studied my eyes as though wanting to dive into my soul and hide. “You feel that too?” His unsure tone made my heart ache.
“I do,” I didn’t hesitate to answer. I cupped his jaw, my thumb rubbing over soft whiskers while holding his gaze. He leaned into the caress as I’d hoped for, his deep need for affection and connection tugging on my empathy. “You don’t have to face this alone. I’ll be here every step of the way, and if things become too much, we can leave. Seek legal counsel for direction.”
His focus dropped to our clasped hands, and I allowed him a few minutes to work through whatever necessary now that he had calmed a bit and could process again. “I-I need to tell them, but I’m afraid. Ashamed…”
“You don’t have to give personal details,” I assured him even though his words brought up a shit ton of questions in my head I wouldn’t mind having answers to. “Stick to the facts but don’t reveal anything to Detective Jenner you aren’t comfortable with.”
Mason sagged in his chair as though drained of energy. “I-I can do that. Then I have to make a call.”
As though the detective had been listening in on our conversation—he probably had been—he knocked lightly and entered, three bottles of water in hand. He sat one each in front of us before taking his seat. Rather than asking if Mason was doing all right, he kept silent and sipped his water while we did the same.
