It takes a few seconds for me to absorb the information but quickly text Dad back.
His response is quick and to the point.
I am grateful for my dad’s help and send that in a text before daring to look down at my girl and suddenly regret seeing her beautiful face looking so content, peaceful and at ease, knowing that she won’t be once she knows what’s coming, never mind when the shit storm eventually arrives.
In sheer frustration that I am powerless to prevent what’s coming I hiss in frustration, “Fuck!”
My voice is louder than I had intended, not that much planning went into my single word expletive but it’s enough to disturb Olivia, breaking her sleep.
With her eyes barely open and a sleepy smile she is gazing up at me. “Babe.” Her hand that is across my body begins to trace patterns on my chest. “I love you and earlier was great, better than great but I really need to sleep a while longer.”
I look down at her, momentarily confused by her words and then with a laugh I shuffle down the bed a little and pull her in closer, to hold her.
“No problem, sweetheart, sleep.” I encourage her with a grin spreading across my face as I think about her being woken by my curse that she assumed was, what? Seduction, a suggestion? With a final chuckle, I land a kiss to my girlfriend’s head then with her lying safely in my arms I manage to fall asleep.
Chapter 48
Olivia
Waking, I roll over but know that Mason won’t be there. When we sleep we end up entangled within each other and I can’t really remember the last time I woke without finding at least one part of Mason on or around me and a part of me in a reciprocal position so when I wake without anything else touching me I know he’s already up.
I check my phone and can see that I haven’t overslept meaning Mase either couldn’t sleep or he’s up to something because he didn’t mention anything about early business, although we were focused on arguing before we ended up in bed together.
With a slow smile curling my lips I feel everything below the waist tense, God, I really am a machine where sex with Mase is concerned. I tingle and ache in a good way, like a reminder of last night when we may have actually made love for the first time because aside from the physical sensations I felt, which were fantastic, the main thing I felt was loved. Loved, cherished and adored. With a soppy grin on my face and a happy glow I go in search of Mason.
Wearing a pair of small pyjama shorts and vest, I pad down the hall barefoot until I reach the lounge where I can hear Mase on the phone from his position in the kitchen with his back to me.
“No, no I’ll be here, available no matter what. Mmm, no not yet. I haven’t had chance to speak to her yet. Yes, Dad, I know I need to tell her, and I will, when she wakes up, okay?”
I assume I am theherthat he needs to tell something Jimmy knows which means it’s about my doctor or stepfather, maybe both.
“Sorry, yes,” Mase says with a softer tone to his voice. Clearly, he feels guilty for being so abrupt with Jimmy. “Thanks again, and I’ll see you later.”
“Morning,” I say as I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around Mase’s middle, resting my head on his chest. “Do you want to tell me whatever you need to?”
“Over breakfast.” His voice is suddenly clipped. “Please,” he adds, softening it a little.
I have almost finished my breakfast and every mouthful seems to be sinking to the pit of my stomach, heavy and dense as my anxiety increases at the prospect of Mason saying something bad, really, really bad, something his expression supports.
“Mason, will you please tell me what’s going on?” I leave what’s left of my breakfast, the cutlery clattering too loudly, emphasising the silence around us.
“Yes, sorry. Dad has found that your stepfather is of interest to several law enforcement departments and the police are going to formally charge the doctor meaning they will be continuing their investigations to gather evidence.”
“Evidence, as in patients, as in me?” I already know that’s what Mason is saying. His nod confirms it. “Maybe he didn’t keep records for me, because of what happened,” I suggest optimistically, or maybe just naively.
Mason shakes his head. “He kept records, baby, and you are on the police list of people they’d like to speak to.”
“Speak to?”
“Yes, speak to, as in they will make contact with you…”
“Eventually,” I say almost defiantly.
