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“A few days ago, a man came into your library and waved a gun around. You weren’t aware there were no bullets in it, so you should have been scared out of your mind. Then a crazy woman was practically naked on my couch when you walk in, and apart from the thirty seconds of horror at seeing her in my house, you moved on like nothing happened. Then this morning, your car was damaged, and tonight you come home with a smile on your face. I’m worried, babe. Are you processing what’s happened?”
Poor Caleb! He looks so concerned. I place my hands on his cheeks, my forehead against his. “Thank you for being so sweet and thoughtful, but I truly am doing fine. I’m not sure how to explain this, but let me give it a try. When I lost my mother, I fell apart. Dad and Zaira needed me and helped pull me together. Then Dad died, and I mourned, but I couldn’t wallow because Zaira needed me. I did break down after Zaira. I didn’t leave my home for a week. Eventually, I pulled myself together and joined a grief counseling group. The people there knew exactly what I was going through. I talked. I cried. It took a while, but I started to plan my life without Zaira.”
“I’m not sure how this all fits,” he says.
“When you lose your entire family, that’s a loss unlike any other,” I tell him. “I was terrified when Malcolm first came in, but I saw the same pain in his eyes that was in my own when I lost my family. He was hurting, and because I lived through that kind of pain, suddenly, I wasn’t so afraid. Do you understand?”
“Sort of, but—”
I press my fingers over his lips. “Let me finish. When I saw Karen, it wasn’t her being in your home that was upsetting. I automatically thought I wasn’t pretty enough for you. Karen’s gorgeous. I mean, model beautiful and…I am not.” I stumble over the words.
“You’re wrong. You’re stunning, my doe,” he says softly.
“Thank you. I realized that what mattered was that you wanted me with you, and I quickly saw that she’d forced herself into your space. Why would I let it bother me, if you chose me? See what I mean?”
“Yeah, but—”
“And the car is an object. A thing. Getting it fixed is a pain, a nuisance, but definitely not the end of the world.”
Caleb looks at me strangely as he caresses my cheek. “We’ll put this all behind us.”
FOURTEEN
Meeting Mason
CALEB
As I sit at my desk, poring over the notes from what the guys found out yesterday, there’s nothing glaring for me to go on. Zeke’s still looking into the paint sample and checking any traffic and security cameras, although our neighborhood is quiet and most people in it don’t see a need for one.
Alex went to question Karen and didn’t find her at her place. He’s still trying to track her down. She wasn’t at work that day, so he was going back this morning to see if she made it home.
The only consolation I have is knowing that Mason is watching Gwen. He spotted me in my car, reluctant to leave the parking lot of the library, when he purposefully walked by me to let me know he was here and doing his job. Damian rarely speaks about his time in the army, but the one man who made an impression on him among the hundreds he met was Mason.
“What’s so special about this guy?” I asked when we were all together one night hanging out.
“It’s not a what, it’s a why,” Damian said. “It’s not about guts or glory. For Mason, it’s about protecting the innocent. Righting the wrongs. It’s not about power or discipline, although he has that in spades.” Damian doesn’t hero worship easily, but this guy means something to him. “One night, the commander came in and hauled him out. The rest of the unit thought it was because we were going on the rescue mission the next day, and Mason openly told our leader that we were going to lose men if we followed the plan they came up with. We thought for sure he was going to get in trouble. When he came back, he didn’t say a word. He went right to bed. Next day, we were rerouted, and the plan changed. He could have been a top-ranking officer, but instead, he decided to be in special forces.”
The thing about Damian is, he’s no slouch. He’s smart as a whip, strong as an ox, and can hold his own with any man. He’s also the kind who isn’t easily impressed. Yet, with Mason, there seems to a bond only they understand.
We formally got to meet Mason once. It was shortly after Damian started as a detective. Alex and I had taken him out for a beer to celebrate the occasion. Out of nowhere, Mason walks up to our table, and Damian was shocked as hell to see him. Mason stayed for a beer. When he was about to leave, he turned to Damian and said, “You’re where you’re supposed to be. Live it up, man.”
Even with Mason looking out for Gwen, it was hard to leave her. After our heart-to-heart, it became very clear that Gwen believes the damage to her car was a random act of violence. Alex, Zeke, Damian, and I agreed we weren’t going to say otherwise until we have further proof.
The guys and I went over the last few days’ events. We all decided the hostage situation was a random act and wasn’t related to the others. The fact that Karen was at my house one day causing a scene and several days later, the car was vandalized seems a little too coincidental.
All signs point to Karen being involved, but without proof, there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. I didn’t see her, only the car speeding away. In the dark, it looked like Karen’s car, but I can’t be certain.
Zeke is at his station running through the criminals we’ve sent to prison in the last five years. Although most may still be in prison, we’re tracking down those who are out. Damian’s assisting Zeke, while Alex goes to see if Karen’s made it home.
My gaze is drawn to my cell phone when it pings with a text message.
It’s Gwen. Do you like tacos?
Sure. I’ll pick some up on the way home.
No need. I’m making tacos tonight.
Sound great, babe.
