Page 87 of His Saving Grace

Dead.

The word pounded around inside her fuzzy brain.

Dead.

And then relief flooded through her, washing away the fear and misery, leaving her empty, shaky, but surprisingly whole. But shame at her reaction—and a touch of sadness at what could have been—lingered. Wormed its way into the empty spaces. The emotions tangled together, growing and expanding inside her, threatening to spill out at any moment.

“Did you… umm, how did…” The words scraped against her throat on the way out, heavy and low. She couldn’t ask the question pulsing on the back of her tongue. She wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

“Did I kill him?” Mason kept his gaze locked on hers. “No, he broke his neck in the slide.”

She sagged back against the pillow, her arm falling limply to her side.

“But I wanted to, Grace,” he said. “I wanted to so badly. I was so angry that he hurt you. And then when he shot you…” The words trailed off and Mason took a deep breath. “But it’s over now and he’ll never hurt you, or anyone else ever again.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. She was too tired to try and stop it from falling. Mason wiped it away. “I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded thick, ragged at the edges.

“It’s okay to be sad, Grace,” he said, his voice painfully gentle. “He might have been a dick, but there had to be something good about him at some point. How else would he get such an incredible woman to love him? And I know there was a time when you loved him.”

His words sent her tumultuous emotions crashing over the dam, and she sobbed. Because Mason was right, there had been a time when she’d loved David. At least, she thought she had. Looking back, she realized it wasn’t ever truly love. More an infatuation and a perception of what she thought she wanted, what she thought was love. Mason had shown her what real love was.

Yes, she loved Mason. And she’d almost never gotten the chance to tell him.

Sobs wracked her sore body. A dull throb coursed through her torso, a reminder that she’d been shot. All the possibilities of what could have happened flashed through her mind and terror squeezed her heart. What if it had been Mason, or Jake, or Simon or Eloise, that had been shot? What if they’d been killed? She was building toward hysterical.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Mason shuffled closer, leaning forward and gingerly wrapping her in his arms. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and sobbed. She didn’t have the strength to hug him back, even though she wanted to. Something else to blame David for.

But she couldn’t, because he was dead, and she was free.

They stayed like that for a long time, long after her tears had stopped. Finally, Mason pulled back. Ever so gently, he bent forward and kissed the tip of her nose. It was so sweet that, had she not already been spent, it would have reignited the waterworks. She sighed and touched her lips to his. The kiss was gentle, just a soft brushing of their lips, but the spark was still there. Like every other time, the connection she’d never felt with anyone else flared to life.

Mason pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. He took a deep breath and then stood. The loss was almost like a physical blow. If she had the strength, she would have reached for him, pulled him back to her, never let him go.

He paced back and forth next to her bed. His limp was more pronounced. Minutes passed, and he didn’t say anything, just continued his methodical pacing. Her anxiety was hanging out somewhere on the twentieth floor by the time he finally stopped and turned to her.

“There’s been something that I’ve been wanting to say to you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But I’m not sure what the point is now.”

Grace frowned at his cryptic words. She was far too tired and sore and sad and happy to try to figure out what he was talking about. “What is it, Mason?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry—”

“What on earth would you have to be sorry for?”

He sighed and sat back down in his chair. “For being an ass when you told me about David and being engaged and everything. I handled it badly and I’m sorry.”

“It was my fault. I should have been honest with you from the get go. It was just—”

“No, this is not on you, it’s on me. I was a jerk and I should have been more understanding.”

Grace shook her head, expending the last of her energy. Her eyelids began to droop, and it was a battle to keep them open. “When I realized I loved you, I should have told you everything.”

Mason grasped her hand. “You love me?”

She tried to nod, a small smile playing on her lips. “Of course, you silly man. You think I’d take a bullet for just anyone?”

Although she meant it as a joke, Mason scowled. Okay, then. He obviously thought it was too soon for jokes. Each of her blinks got longer, exhaustion setting in. A couple more seconds and she couldn’t open her eyes.

Mason pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, sweetheart. We’ll talk later.”