Deadly Obsession. Maggie Shayne

Deadly Obsession - Maggie Shayne


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freakin’ littermate, and Jeremy was Mason’s mini-me, with a fair amount of teenage angst (most of it hard-earned) thrown in.

      “Then you have to let them know that.”

      “Okay.”

      “I’ll be there by the time you arrive.”

      “Okay.”

      “Now hang up and call his mother.”

      “Aw, jeez, Sandra—”

      “Tell her not to drive. I’ll send Jim to pick her up and drive her in. Tell her he’ll be there soon. Just as fast as he can.”

      “Okay.”

      “Hang in there, sis.”

      I nodded hard, disconnected, thanked my lucky stars for a big sister who knew how to talk to me and called Mason’s mother. She took it pretty well, I thought, and I did a great job holding it together as I tried to reassure her, and told her my brother-in-law was on his way to pick her up.

      And then I was home, rolling slowly through the wrought-iron gates I’d left open and along the driveway up to the my house. My haven. I shut off the engine, got out, then stood there a second looking at my front door like I was looking at my own grave. I did not want to walk in there and blow those kids’ lives to hell and gone. How much more could they take?

      Then Sandra’s minivan pulled in behind me. The headlights shut off, and she was out and hugging me hard before I even took another breath.

      It made me choke up when she hugged me, so I pushed her away, wiped at my eyes, looked into hers. “How’s my face?”

      She took a tissue out of her purse and dabbed some smudged makeup away. “You’re good. You can do this.”

      Nodding, I marched up the front steps, opened the door and stepped inside.

      Joshua, Jeremy, and Sandra’s daughter Misty were playing video games on the sofa. Jere and Misty sat close enough so their elbows were bumping. Ah, young love. My other niece, Christy, who I think was trying out for the role of the bad twin lately, sat in a chair off to one side, her nose glued to her smartphone.

      Myrtle was the only one who noticed we’d come in, and she came barreling across the living room unerringly and bashed me in the shins with her forehead, which was her typical greeting. I yelped, because bulldogs have skulls made of lead, and the kids finally noticed us there, paused their game and turned our way.

      Jeremy met my eyes and went a shade paler. “What happened? Where’s Uncle Mason?”

      I drew a breath. “Your uncle was hurt a little while ago. He’s going to be okay, though. They’re taking him to the hospital. We’re all going to meet him there, okay?”

      Joshua blinked slowly and didn’t say a word. He looked terrified. They both got off the sofa, moving toward us.

      Jeremy said, “Hurt how?”

      I swallowed my fear and tried to feel confident. “There was a fire.” Be straight with them, said my sister’s voice, echoing in my head. “There were kids inside, and you know your uncle. He ran in to get them out. And he did. But it looked like he got burned a little, and he probably took a few whiffs of smoke in the process.”

      Jeremy nodded, joining us near the front door. “Let’s go, then. Josh, c’mon.”

      Josh moved slower, like he was sleepwalking. He had this shell-shocked look, and his eyes were wide and unblinking, and kind of vacant.

      I crossed to him, put my hands on his shoulders. “Josh, you don’t have to be afraid. He’s gonna be okay.”

      His lips trembled. His tears welled. “Wh-what if he’s not?”

      “I refuse to even consider that,” I told him. Myrt was at his feet now, affectionately butting his hands where they hung at his sides and getting no response. “I’ll tell you this much, though,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m sticking with you two. The both of you. No matter what.”

      Josh wrapped his arms around me. If I got all tight in the throat, it was just because I wasn’t used to such blatant displays of affection from a twelve-year-old kid. But I tightened my arms around him and hugged him to me and stroked his hair and tried to blink back the flood of tears. I loved the kid. I loved Mason, and I loved his boys. What cave had I been living in that I hadn’t realized it sooner?

      “Did someone call Gram?” Jeremy asked. He was at the door, itching to go. Misty stood in the background with tears welling, and Christy had stopped texting.

      “Jim’s picking her up,” Sandra said. Then, to me, “You okay to drive?”

      “I am.”

      “All right, the girls and I will take care of things here, then we’ll be along.”

      I hugged my sister. I didn’t hug often, but it was called for. “Thanks, Sandra.” When we pulled apart, I saw Misty all wrapped up in Jeremy, whispering that she wouldn’t be far behind him.

      Then the three of us headed out, jumping into Mason’s car without even thinking about it, because it was closest. As soon as we got to the end of my almost-private dirt road and took a right to head for the I-81 north ramp, instead of left toward I-81 south, Jeremy said, “Why are we going this way? The hospital’s—”

      “They took him to Saint Joseph’s in Syracuse, Jere. It’s apparently the standard place to go for burns.”

      He was looking at me like I’d just kicked him in the shins, and he opened his mouth to say something else, then glanced at his kid bro and bit his lip. He was growing up. Graduating high school in a few weeks. He swallowed what I told him and knew what it might mean. I could see that. “Just a precaution, I think. I mean, if you have burns, you want a burn unit, and that’s the closest one.”

      “Yeah. Okay.”

      But he was scared. Terrified.

      And so was I.

      * * *

      Mason was hurting like hell and resenting the fact that they’d dragged his ass all the way to Syracuse when there were three perfectly great hospitals within a half hour of his home. And while they’d cleaned (excruciating) and dressed the burns on his left arm and shoulder, and doped him up with enough morphine to slow down a rhino, he was still in pain. Not just the arm, either. His chest hurt like hell. Every breath was torture. It felt like he had shredded glass lining his lungs.

      And then he saw Rachel, behind Jeremy and Joshua, with an arm around each of them, and the pain took a backseat. She was all smudged with soot but still in that sexy red clingy dress she’d worn for their weekly date night. He’d been admiring it all night long. She was wearing a big phony mask of confidence and ease, but he could see the fear behind her baby-blue eyes.

      Damn, he loved her eyes. Even when they’d been blind, they’d been beautiful.

      “Uncle Mace!” Joshua broke into a run. Mason managed to lift his left arm out of the way before impact, wincing because it hurt to move the arm at all. He tousled the kids’ hair with his good hand. “I’m fine, Josh. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

      “I was so scared,” Josh said.

      “I know. I’m sorry.”

      “You’ve gotta be more careful, Uncle Mace. We need you.”

      The kid meant every word. Mason looked over Josh’s head at Jeremy. “C’mere, you.”

      Jeremy smiled and went to hug him, as well. “The nurses in the waiting room said you saved those two kids’ lives. Said you were a hero.”

      “Yeah,” Rachel said, still standing back, giving them room. “She was all cow-eyed when she said it, too. If she didn’t have your life in her hands, I’d have to kick her ass just to establish my dominance.”

      “I


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