Courtney's Baby Plan

The mind and some parts of his body were definitely willing, but the rest of him—the injured, aching part of him—just sat back with a snide, cruel laugh at the very idea of it.

“I’ll yell,” he said, having no intentions of it at all. “G’night.”

She hesitated a moment longer, still looking strangely indecisive. But then she did turn on her heel and head down the hall. A moment later, he heard the sound of a door closing softly. Then water running.

His fertile mind took off like a shot, and again, the part of him that was in control got a damn good laugh.

His head hurt. His ribs and his back hurt. He had an itch beneath the cast on his arm that was driving him batty. It was hours before he finally dozed off. The sky that he could see through a kitchen window was beginning to lighten. And when he did sleep, his dreams were a jumbled mess.

Cole was behind the wheel of the SUV aiming for little Lari McDougal. Mason watched it all unfold, his dream-state legs refusing to run fast enough, knowing he wasn’t going to make it. Wasn’t going to be able to save the child.

Only, Lari wasn’t a child, he realized as he forced his legs to move through the sludgelike paralysis that was holding him in place. It was Courtney.

Beautiful, young Courtney.

The SUV was speeding closer. Mason could see the whites of Coleman Black’s eyes.

He yelled out to Lari. To Courtney.

Knew it was too late. He was too late….

He jerked and barely caught himself from rolling off the couch. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breath coming fast and hard.

But at least he knew where he was.

In Courtney’s house. Sleeping on a surprisingly uncomfortable leather couch while cool sunshine streamed through the plentiful windows.