Mason clenched his fists. “Why?”
“Because it was my fault,” Shee said, her voice rising to match the urgent tone of his. “I wanted so much—”
Mason’s hand moved to the lumpy scar on his arm. He stood there staring at her, rubbing his fingers around its rough surface until, finally, he held up his palm and closed his eyes.
“I can’t do this now.”
“What?”
“I—” He felt his pocket for his wallet and looked around the room as if he’d lost something. “I have to go.”
“Where?”
He strode toward the door. “I don’t know. I can’t be near you right now.”
Shee drew a ragged breath as he jerked the door open and disappeared into the hall.
She slid down the door to the floor, sobbing.
&&&
Chapter Thirty-Three
Twenty-six years ago. Somewhere off the west coast of Africa.
Mason entered the cruiser’s medical bay, gripping his arm. Blood oozed between his fingers.
Doc looked up from his magazine. He looked about fifty, with spikey gray hair echoing the steel tufts poking from his ears and nose.
“You’re back already?” he asked.
Mason nodded. “Cakewalk.”
Doc laughed. “I can see that. Sit down. Take off your gear.”
Mason wasn’t feeling chatty. This was his first mission and he’d managed to get shot. The task had been easy, he’d just messed up. A branch had snagged the locket around his neck and pulled it free. He’d doubled back to retrieve it, and taken one in the arm before he could take out the shooter.
Stupid.
As Doc inspected his wound, Mason stared at the locket in his hand. It held one of the diamonds his mother had died for. This one had Shee’s name all over it. He planned to ask her to marry him when he got back, but if the damn locket caught on everything, he’d lose it—or his life—long before returning to Coronado.
“Through and through. We’ll be able to stitch you up both sides,” murmured Doc.
Mason nodded. “Hey, ah have a question for you. If ah gave you a little rock, could you drop it in and stitch it?”
Doc’s expression twisted as if he smelled something awful. “You got a headwound, too?”
Mason shook his head and held aloft his orb-shaped locket. “Ah’ve got a diamond ah’m keeping for my girl. Gonna lose it if ah don’t put it somewhere safe.”
Doc’s face didn’t change. “You know they have these things called banks. Safety deposit boxes? Maybe you’ve heard of them?”
“That woulda been a good idea a couple months ago, but there ain’t much ah can do now that ah’m here.”
Doc motioned to the locket. “You want that thing in your arm?”
“Just the diamond inside. It twists open.”
The doctor took the locket and opened it. He spilled the diamond into his palm and let it roll around his palm.
“This is the ugliest damn diamond I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s rough. Uncut.”
“Where’d you get it? Rob a jewelry store?”
Mason chuckled. “Something like that.”
Doc sighed. “I guess I can tuck it in there for you, for now, but it’s going to work its way out sooner or later.”
“That’s fine. Ah just need it safe ‘til ah get back.”
“I’ll have to sterilize it. There’s going to be a lump. The scarring will be worse—”
“That’s fine.”
Doc shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”
“Come on. Help me out.”
Doc huffed a sigh. “Fine.” He tapped beside the wound with his finger. “You want me to numb you up or are you one of those SEALs who don’t feel pain?”
Mason settled back. “Pain don’t hurt.”
Doc barked a laugh, reaching for his stitching needle. “You guys and your Roadhouse quotes. I swear.”
&&&
Chapter Thirty-Four
The flight back was fun.
Shee sat in the waiting area, her knee bouncing, certain she’d never see Mason again. She looked up to find a tan, fit, middle-aged man wearing a guayabera shirt staring at her. He looked away.
Not in the mood, buddy.
He seemed out of place wearing his Cuban-style short-sleeve shirt, but the plane was headed to Florida.
Maybe he had the right idea.
She removed her puffy vest and folded it in her lap.
Think warm thoughts.
It was hard to think of anything except the pain she’d caused Mason. There was no reason he should ever forgive her. She knew that. But he had to go back to Jupiter Beach, right? Had to pick up his dog, his truck... It would be crazy for him to take a later flight just to avoid her, wouldn’t it?
She was shuffling one step at a time up the boarding line when he appeared. He slid into the queue beside her without a word. Both nerves and relief flooded her body.
Hi. Good morning. You almost missed it—
Every line sounded wrong. She remained silent.
As did he.
Shee handed her boarding pass to the check-in attendant and picked a middle seat on the plane. She could feel Mason’s presence behind her.
Please sit on the aisle beside me. Please sit—
He sat beside her.
More relief. More nerves.
He remained quiet as the rest of the passengers found their seats. The plane taxied and took off.
Still nothing.
Her heartbeat thrummed in her temple, though she knew that was more about the wine than her nerves. The steaks had shown up not long after Mason left the room, but she hadn’t been able to eat. Instead she sipped the spare bottle of wine until she found it empty.
Drinking on an empty stomach had always been a punishable offense.
She let the silence brew until she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“You’re here,” she said.
“My stuff, my dog and my truck are in Florida,” he said flatly.
Yep. I’ve been clinging to that fact for hours.
Silence
