25. Mason

TWENTY-FIVE

Mason

Monitors beep in a constant rhythm around me, and I try to track the movements of the nurses and doctors rushing around the hospital.

It gives me something to do as I sit here and wait.

God, today…sucked.

I let out a heavy sigh, trying to relax into the hospital bed. The painkillers are working, and I'm all wrapped up in gauze around my back and leg.

The burns aren't bad, but they definitely stung, and getting them cleaned out to prevent infection was crucial.

Still, I know it's the bump to the back of the head that really needed attention.

I have a concussion, apparently, and that feels right considering the splitting headache I'm fighting.

"Glad you got back here okay." I look over to see my chief walking over, and I offer him a tired smile, gripping his arm weakly as he claps it to mine. "Fire's contained. We've got it circled, and there are crews out there taking care of getting it out. So don't even think about trying to get back out there."

"Oh, I think I'm good." I grin. "Seeing as how I'm currently in a hospital bed, I think I'll take the rest of the night off."

"Damn straight you will." Adam grins, patting me on the shoulder.

We both know how much of a fight I put up in the rig when they were driving me here, and I roll my lips between my teeth, feeling a bit guilty.

Concussions are very similar to being drunk in that way. I thought I was okay. Clearly, I was wrong.

"All right, Mason. I'll let you get some rest. And take it for more than just tonight. I don't want to be seeing you at that office tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." I give him a sloppy salute, the IV hooked up to my arm dangling.

Adam rolls his eyes and then leaves me to it. And as soon as I'm left alone again, all I can think is, "Where are they?"

"Dada!"

Turning, I see Mia in Bridget's arms, who's pointing in my direction. Mia's got a little blanket with her, and her hair is an absolute mess, probably from sleeping.

Bridget sets Mia down a few feet away from the bed, and I use everything I have to get down on my knees and catch her as she runs toward me.

Mia hits my chest in a solid thump, and I wrap my arms around her. My heart overflows, and I can't stop the tears from slipping free as I hold her little body against my chest.

The thought of never seeing her again, of what else could have gone wrong out there today, hits me square in the chest and I grip onto my sweet daughter like she's a lifeline.

"Mia, sweetheart. Ugh," I squeeze her, "I missed you so much."

When I look down at her, Mia is smiling from ear to ear, and she points back to Bridget as she slowly walks toward us.

"Grandma Bev's house fun!"

It takes a second to understand that she's saying grandma because it comes out ga-ma, but I smile back at her, nodding.

"Oh, good."

"She was an angel. Like always."

I look up at Bridget, hoisting Mia up into my arms and struggling to sit back down in the bed. My chest pinches as I stare at her, and then I'm grinning at her.

"I missed you, too."

Bridget's eyes glass over with unshed tears, and she hurries over toward me. As she does, I realize that several news reporters are filtering in through the door behind her and scoping out all the other firefighters who are being treated for burns and minor injuries.

"Dada." I look down at Mia, and she puts her little hand on my cheek.

"Yeah, honey. It's me. I'm okay."

I hold her close, that perfect, familiar scent of hers grounding me. I'd be lost without this little girl, and I pull her tighter against my chest, burying my face into her neck.

Thank you. Whatever got me out of there today. Thank you.

A hand comes to my shoulder, and I glance up. Bridget smiles down at me, the tears freely flowing from her eyes.

Pulling her into the hug, I hold my two girls close to me and silently vow to never let them get away again.

My pulse flickers and I can feel it in my neck as my exhausted mind dwells on the possibility of dying today. Intrusive thoughts barrel in, and it is damn near impossible to keep them at bay right now.

My jaw works as I try to focus around the swirl of what-ifs that tangle up my thoughts. It is so much harder to let go of the fear than I thought it would be.

All I can think is that I could have been my damn father. I could have left Mia alone like he left me.

I can't be that man. I need to be there for her. I'm all she has left.

"Hey," Bridget says, knocking me out of my thoughts. "You're okay. We're right here with you. Okay?"

I'm shaking, which I do not like, but I just hold her stare, focusing on those beautiful blue eyes of Bridget's.

"The thought of not coming home," my voice cracks, "my father…"

Bridget focuses on me intently, squeezing my hand where it rests on Mia's back, who's promptly fallen back asleep.

There's this understanding in Bridget's stare, and she nods gently before hesitantly kissing me on the cheek.

"What happened to your father didn't happen to you, okay? You're safe. We won't let that ever happen to you. You're here, you're safe, and you've got Mia in your arms. That's all that matters."

The solidity of Bridget right next to me, the way I can feel her sitting right on the bed, makes the furious spinning of the earth slow down.

I force myself to take a deep breath, and as Bridget releases my hand, I'm quick to use the one wrapped around her back to keep her in place. She's not going anywhere.

"I have both of you. That's what matters."

Leaning forward, I kiss her, leaving the hospital behind as I focus on the feeling of Bridget's lips on mine.

We linger there for several moments until I pull back enough to smile at her, noting the tears on her cheeks.

"Thank you so much for taking care of Mia today. You…you're remarkable, Bridget."

She shrugs playfully, waving me off with a hand. "Ah, it's nothing."

"It's everything."

Normalcy slips back in, and I lean back against the bed with a hiss. Mia lays on me asleep, and I have no problem staying in this exact position all night.

"A tree branch?"

Looking over to Bridget, I take in how her brows are knitted together as she runs her stare over my bandages.

"A branch. Yeah. It fell on me after I knocked Patches out of the way." I gesture with my head at where my buddy is sitting on a hospital bed across from me, getting a burn on his arm dealt with. "Nothing I couldn't handle, though."

Bridget rolls her eyes at me. "You really are a hero, huh?"

"Mr. Hayes!" Turning toward the loud voice, that gaggle of reporters floods around my hospital bed, and I cover Mia's face instinctively. "We heard about your heroic actions today. Would you like to tell us more?"

"Umm…"

As I'm frozen there, Bridget takes a step back, leaving me with the reporters circled around the bed. The look on her face is pure discomfort, and I can see that the thought of being on camera doesn't sit well with her.

"If you can be quiet around my daughter, sure."

The news crew settles, and I'm actually pretty damn surprised they care enough to keep it down.

"So, Mr. Hayes, what happened out there? Why did you have to act so quickly for your fellow firefighter, Mr. Jones?"

"Oh, well, we were creating a new break-fire, making a control line, so that the fire couldn't spread. Patches, which is what I'm used to calling him, got his foot stuck under some falling debris. He wasn't going to move himself, so…"

The reporters laugh, but this feels incredibly awkward. When I look over at Bridget for a bit of support, I can't help but notice how much more uncomfortable she looks.

She's completely shied away from the news crew. It's like they have the plague or something.

If the woman could become one with the wall, I think she would.

Weird. Why's Bridget so against being in front of the camera? I know it's not your typical weeknight thing, but ? —

Then it hits me.

Bridget is shielding her face, making sure she's not in the line of the shots. It's like she's worried about being recognized.

My gut tightens, and I start answering the questions the reporters are asking without really thinking about them.

Something is definitely up with Bridget, and I have to assume it has something to do with Jai. She's expressed how much of a tool the guy was—if still being vague about some of the details—and if she's worried about him seeing her on the news…

What's that all about?

Nervousness clings to me as I finish answering the reporters' questions. I think I give them what they want because they seem happy enough to leave me be now.

After a minute, Bridget comes back over, and I pull her in close again.

"Are you okay?"

She looks up at me from staring down at the hospital bed, shaking herself.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Sorry. I just…umm, I don't like being on camera."

There's a flicker behind her eyes, something I wouldn't have noticed before. But I know she's holding something back.

I want Bridget to trust me with whatever she's holding onto, but I also remember that night out by the pool.

The extent of Jai's manipulation and cruelty was way more than I knew, and I can only imagine how much more pain there is locked up inside Bridget.

I squeeze her hand, offering a small smile. "Okay. Well, I'm here. If you want to talk."

Bridget returns the smile, her eyes going glossy, and she leans in to kiss me on the cheek.

"Thank you, Mason." Her stare holds mine. "Really."

There's a companionable silence that fills the air around us, and I lay my head back as Bridget stuffs herself onto the side of the bed.

We both look down at Mia, who is still fast asleep under my other arm, and it feels so damn good to have them both right here with me.

"Mr. Hayes."

I look over, and Dr. Stewart is walking over with a clipboard in her hands.

"Hey, doc. How am I doing?"

She smiles politely, perching on the foot of the bed. "Good. I think we can discharge you as long as you have help getting home and someone to keep an eye on you for the night."

"I'd be happy to help," Bridget offers.

"Great." Dr. Stewart looks to Bridget, her expression going more serious. "There are a few things that you'll want to look out for, and you should call if anything seems off with his behavior or if he starts complaining about pain that isn't responding to the medications."

"All right. I can do that."

I watch the two of them talk about what Bridget needs to do, the doctor providing several printed-out sheets of paper with important information.

But all I really care about currently is that I get to go home. I want to be in my own bed. I want to know that Mia is safely tucked in and Bridget is right there beside me.

When Bridget turns back to me, she grins softly. "Let's go home."