My clothes are going to stink up everything in here.

She grabbed the basket, whirled around to head to the laundry room, and nearly ran over Mason. He blocked the doorway into the closet, hands resting on the doorjambs, looking at her in her bra and panties as she tried to get past him with the basket.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to wash these. Tonight. They stink like the hospital.” Her skin vibrated as if she’d had a huge hit of caffeine.

He didn’t move. Leaning over, he sniffed at the basket in her arms. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Trust me. You don’t want these near your clean clothes.” She sniffed at her upper arm. “I need to shower. The smell is clinging to me.” She tried to push past him again.

“Ava.” He stopped her with a hand on the basket. “Nothing smells.”

“Yes. Yes it does.” She clutched the basket tighter. “I need to do this.” Her gaze locked on his, and she silently pleaded with him to let her by. Instead he took hold of the basket.

“Let go.”

She paused. And then let go, her hands aching as she straightened her clenched fingers.

He slowly set the basket aside, holding her gaze. The vibrations under her skin grew stronger and a chill took root in her muscles. She wanted the basket back—something to hang on to, something that gave her a purpose.

“I’m cold,” she whispered.

“Tell me what happened today.” He spoke slowly as if not to spook her, and caution flickered in his eyes.

Am I that obvious?

She was balancing on a high wire, frozen in place, terrified to take a wrong step that would result in a downward spiral to match Jayne’s. His gaze held her in place, and she clung to it, seeing him in crystal clarity. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. The patches of gray hair at his temples. The pulse at the side of his neck.

“She did it, Mason,” she whispered. “She threatened it during our phone call, and I didn’t believe her. She reached out, and I slapped her away. I pushed her, and she did it.”

His eyes softened a fraction, and he reached for her.

She jerked back, dropping her gaze. “Don’t touch me.”

The soft catch of his breath broke her heart. Warmth touched her chest, and she lifted a hand to it. Wet. One line of tears had run down her cheek and landed on her chest. Slowly she lifted her gaze back to him, her fingertips touching the side of her face. “I think I’m falling apart.”

Before she could blink he had his arms around her, his heat burning her skin.

“I’m so cold.”

He held her tighter, running his hands up and down her back, his touch creating trails of heat that immediately vanished, leaving her colder than before. It didn’t help. She was ready to shatter into a million pieces, and her mind sought a ledge to grab to keep her whole. The trembling under her skin crescendoed to an unbearable level, numbing all other sensations and stunting her thoughts. “I can’t think straight,” she whispered.

“Did you take something?” he asked.

His words took time to penetrate the fog around her brain. When they hit home, she froze. “Are you asking if I took something illegal?” Her voice cracked.

“Or legal.” His brown gaze looked deep into her soul. Or is he checking my pupils for dilation?

“I’m not on anything. As much as I’m craving a miracle drug or drink to make this misery go away, I haven’t taken anything.” She looked away, wanting to sink through the floor. He believes I’m no better than Jayne.

Don’t I believe the same?

He bent and scooped her into his arms, deftly maneuvering them out of the closet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to crawl under his clothing. He radiated the heat she so desperately needed. He gently lay her in their bed and tucked the covers tight around her, his face tight with worry.

Is he done with me?

“Mason.”

He stopped, still bent over her. “What?”

Words left her. She held his gaze, feeling the two of them drift farther and farther apart. Her hand went to his chest, under his shirt, and she pressed her palm against his heart, and it pounded against her hand. It’s not too late.

“I need to feel something,” she whispered. “I can’t feel anything. I don’t care what it is. Please help me.” She moved her hand to tug at the button of his shirt. His chest stopped moving as he held his breath, his eyes narrowed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said slowly. He didn’t back away.

The button slipped from its hole, and she grabbed the shirt’s fabric. “I need you. Please. Make me feel like I’m not about to shatter. I don’t know if I’ll be able to put it back together.” She pleaded with her eyes. She needed to be touched and held, reminded that she hadn’t fully turned into a pillar of stone. She’d slowly grown more detached and paralyzed as she lived through the years of Jayne’s drawn-out collapse. She’d built too many walls to prop herself up and protect herself from the pain, and now she couldn’t find her way out.

His throat moved as he swallowed, the rest of his body immobile.

“It’s what I need. Right now. Because I can’t see five minutes into the future, and I’m terrified that means I’ve become her and am powerless over my actions. Show me I’m wrong.”

He gave a small shudder, never breaking eye contact. “I love you, Ava.” And he bent to kiss her.