Page 65 of Rival for Rent

That was when I finally exhaled. My first real breath since waking up.

“What are you doing here?” Mason asked when I reached them.

Maud hadn’t exaggerated. He looked like hell. A cut on his forehead had been closed up with butterfly bandages. He had a black eye and a swollen jaw. His right arm was in a sling, and he held himself like his entire torso was one big bruise.

Tears stung my eyes.

He was still big, still burly, still Mason. But sitting there in a hospital gown, he looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. Tell him how scaredI’d been. How I couldn’t have handled it if he’d died. How sorry I was for dragging him into my chaos.

But I didn’t hug him. I didn’t cry. Not in front of Myers and Branscombe.

Instead, I smiled and said, “I’m so glad you’re okay. Mrs. Van Houten told me she found you, and I came looking for you.”

“You shouldn’t have come alone,” Mason said, but I ignored him. Right now, his safety mattered more than mine.

I turned to the cops. “She said you were going to come to my house to investigate what happened.”

“Officers should be securing the scene now,” Myers replied tightly. “We’ll head over as soon as we finish taking Mr. Clark’s statement.” He looked back at Mason. “You’re sure you can’t remember anything else?”

Mason shifted on the bed and winced. “I already told you, I passed out pretty quickly.”

“And nothing else before that?” Branscombe asked.

“Just what I already said. I jumped out of the car and I’d almost gotten the guy cuffed when two others came up behind me and pulled me off him.”

“Men?” she prompted.

“Pretty sure.” He shrugged, then winced again. “But it was dark. They were all in black, ski masks. I couldn’t see much of anything.”

“No identifying details at all?” Myers pushed. “Didn’t recognize their eyes? The sound of their voices?”

“They didn’t talk,” Mason said. “And no. I didn’t recognize their eyes. It wasdark.”

He sounded like he’d said it twenty times already. I reached over and squeezed his hand without thinking. He looked at me in surprise, but didn’t pull away. After a moment, he squeezed back.

Myers glanced at our hands and said, “It’s possible this attack was unrelated—”

“But not damn likely,” Mason cut in.

“No,” Myers admitted, nodding. “Not very likely.” He looked back at our hands. “It’s probably connected to whoever’s behind the threats on Mr. Jacinto’s life. Some nutjob who doesn’t like your lifestyle.”

I opened my mouth to say it wasn’t a lifestyle, but Mason squeezed my hand, so I let him handle it.

“So what are you actually doing about it?” he asked. “You’ve got to realize this is a priority now. There’ve been attempts made on both our lives.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Clark,” Myers said, “only the police can determine priorities. But yes, we’re stepping up our efforts. I’ll personally call your security company and get them to expedite sending the footage over. I’ll review it myself, and canvass the neighborhood for anyone who might have seen something. We’ll sweep the scene for DNA and other evidence. And I’ve requested a police guard for Mr. Jacinto’s house. No guarantees, but the request is in.”

“If you’d done all this earlier,” I snapped, “Mason might not have gotten hurt.”

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t their fault. I was the one who insisted we not report the last two notes. If I had, maybe Mason wouldn’t be lying in that hospital bed.

If Myers was offended, he didn’t show it. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever considered tweaking your center a little? Those, uh, transgendered kids are kind of a hot-button issue these days. Maybe think about taking that part out?”

Branscombe gave him a look like she couldn’t believe he’d said that. Even Mason glowered. But I was the one who answered.

“I’m not screwing trans kids over because of one bigot,” I said, voice rising. “Most of them come with their families’ support anyway. And even the ones who don’t—it’s not like we’re offering surgeries. We provide haircuts and clothes. Counseling. Peer groups to help them build confidence. I’m not going to let some asshole stop me from helping the kids who need it—whether they’re trans, gay, or whatever.”

“Group of assholes,” Mason muttered. “Or at least, one asshole with friends.”

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