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Stone was taking up the last of the steaks and happened to look up as she leaned. Almost dropping the platter, he grabbed her arm half in jest, half in earnest.
“Easy, honey. You’ve already had one nasty bump on your head. You don’t want to fall from up here.”
“Stone, look.” She pointed to the toddler who was dawdling toward the fenced-in area around the pool.
He followed her direction and frowned. He’d seen the child and the mother before, but had no idea who they were, or where they lived. And while he was debating with himself about what he should do, Jessica suddenly gasped.
“He’s going to fall in the pool.”
Stone looked again. The child had turned away from the fence and was digging under some shrubs with a stick.
“No, honey. Look, he’s playing by that bush.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and started to shake. “No, no, no. Not there,” she moaned.
In that instant, Stone realized what was happening. Jessica was seeing something that had yet to happen. Without looking back, he bolted through his apartment and out of the door, running down the stairs as if his life, and not the child’s, depended on it.
When the door slammed behind Stone, Jessica jerked in shock, realizing he was gone. She gripped the balcony rail until her knuckles turned white. And even though she knew Stone must be on his way to the rescue, she feared it would not be in time. Already the child had made his way through an unlocked gate and was circling the pool with absent fascination.
When he drew back and tossed his stick in the water, she unconsciously reached out, wanting to stop the inevitable and knowing it was an impossible feat.
The stick hit the water with a splash, and the child shrieked with delight. But when it began to float out toward the middle of the pool, Jessica saw a frown creasing the little boy’s forehead. She held her breath, counting the seconds between the time the child leaned over, and when he tumbled headfirst into the deep end of the pool. At that point, her scream pierced the silence, and then she ran for the phone.
Jessica’s scream was the first thing Stone heard as he burst out of the building. All he could think was, Don’t let me be too late.
The child didn’t even float, and was already sinking when Stone hit the water headfirst. Down, down, he dove, reaching out, stretching his arm to lengthen his grasp. And when he caught fabric—and then the tiny, limp arm—he encircled it fiercely, locking his fingers in a grip that only death would have freed, and began swimming up toward the lights dancing on the water above.
He broke the surface of the water with the child held high in his arms. Afraid to take time to look down, he made for the edge of the pool with the child in tow, and as he reached the side, the child was torn from his grasp.
Breathless and shaking, he pulled himself out of the pool just as Jessica initiated the first sequences of CPR. Her hands were shaking and her face was ghost white, but she wasn’t missing a beat. It was just what Stone needed in order to catch his breath before he could help.
“Did you call 911?”
She nodded and continued to work.
Moments later, when he could breathe without gasping, Stone crawled to his knees and bent to the child.
“I’m okay,” he said quickly, taking over the motions from Jessie without breaking the rhythm. Already the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance, and then soon, another, much sweeter sound came. The sound of a child choking, then coughing, then crying.
Jessica dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hands, knowing if she never did another important thing during her lifetime, this would be enough to carry her through.
Suddenly, paramedics burst on the scene. When they got to the child, Stone gladly relinquished his role of rescuer and leaned back on his knees, still shaking from an onslaught of emotions.
And even as Stone was drawing in deep draughts of much-needed air into his lungs, the little boy was breathing on his own and asking for his mother.
Stone groaned beneath his breath as he got up. He would like to have a talk with her himself. What the hell kind of a woman would let a toddler out unattended in a place like this?
Someone touched his shoulder and he turned. It was Jessica. He grabbed her hand, and in that moment, the connection they had was as strong as when they made love.
“My God, Jessie.” For the moment, it was all he could say.
“Mommy. Want my mommy,” the child cried.
Stone squatted beside him, gently smoothing the wet mat of hair from his forehead while the paramedics began strapping him on the gurney.
“Where is your mommy, son?”
The little boy’s gaze was frantic, his motions jerky as he tried to pull free of the restraints. “Sleepin’. Mommy sleepin’,” he cried, and tugged at the strap across his chest. “Want my mommy!”
“He came out of that door,” Jessica said, pointing to the back of the nearest building.
“He’s plenty stable, and we’ll be a couple of more minutes,” one of the paramedics said. “If you could find her, it would speed up the process a lot when we take him in.”
Stone got to his feet. “I’ll find her.”
Jessica was right behind him when he went inside. He started down the hallway, shouting aloud.
“Police! Open up!”
Doors opened and people peeked out, curious as to what was going on. Before he could explain what he was about, Jessica suddenly grabbed his arm and started running toward the stairwell. By now, he knew better than to ask why.
They exited on the third level. Jessica was out of breath and there was a stitch in her side that she kept trying to ignore. But she knew, as well as she knew her own name, that the drama of the evening wasn’t over yet.
“Here,” she said, pointing to a door on their right that was standing ajar.
Stone pushed his way inside and then stopped in the doorway, staring in disbelief at the young woman who was slumped on the floor, a hypodermic needle next to her hand.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered as he knelt at her side.
Jessica moved through the apartment as if she’d been there before, heading for the refrigerator with unerring intent. And when she opened the door, the small vials sitting high on a shelf only confirmed what she already knew. She grabbed one on the run, dropping back to Stone’s side and shoving it in his hand.
“Stone. Look! She’s not an addict, she’s a diabetic!”
Ashamed of the fact that his first instinct had been to distrust, he thought of the paramedics already on hand.
“Stay with her,” he ordered.
Jessica stayed, partly because he’d asked, and partly because she’d been led here by a power she didn’t understand, and there was nowhere else to go.
* * *
Water stood in puddles from the front door to the bedroom beyond, marking the trail where Stone had walked as he’d gone to change his clothes. Their uneaten food was on a corner of the cabinet, while outside, the waning smoke from the grill dissipated into the night air.
Jessica sat huddled in her chair, rocking back and forth in mute defeat. While she was thankful beyond words that both mother and child would survive, the knowledge that she was no longer in control of her senses was more than she could bear. Trying to live with this thing was going to drive her insane.
There was a touch on her shoulder. She looked up.
Stone held out his hands and she moved into his arms.
“Here, sit with me,” he urged, and sat down where she’d been, holding her safely in his lap. His voice was near her ear, and the quiet, confident tones went a long way toward calming the depression in which she’d fallen.
“You did good, honey.”
Her lips trembled as she laid her head on his shoulder.
“I want this to stop.”
There was such defeat in her voice that Stone panicked, and then held her that little bit tighter.
“I know, Jessie, I know. And I wish there was something I could do to make it all better.”
“Oh, Stone. So do I.”
Outside, the world went on as if nothing had happened, while they sat locked in each other’s arms, wondering what else she would she see, and what else might go wrong.
A half hour passed, and it was moving on to the hour when Stone seemed to kick into gear. He kissed the lobe of Jessie’s ear, then deposited her on her feet.
“You…stick the steaks in the microwave. I’m going to mop up my mess.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he said. “It’s over. You’re here. And I’m damned hungry. Feed me, woman, before I turn on you, instead.”
A small smile tilted the edges of her lips, and he grinned.
“What? You don’t fancy being my dessert?”
This time, Jessica heard herself laughing. It wasn’t much, but it felt good just the same.
“I already told you about that dessert business,” she said.
Convinced that, for the moment, he’d pushed her as far as she needed to go, he turned.
“I’m going to get a mop.”
He had just stepped out on the patio to the adjoining storage room when the phone rang.
“Hey, Jessie, get that for me, will you?” he called.
She picked up the phone on the third ring.
“Richardson residence.”
A very pregnant pause lingered after a near-silent gasp.
“Hello? Who’s calling, please?” Jessica repeated.
“I want to speak to Stone.”
The woman’s voice was stilted, sounding almost angry as Jessica put her hand over the receiver.
“Stone, it’s a woman. She sounds upset. Says she wants to talk to you.”
Mopping at the puddles with manly disdain for neatness, he frowned, then shook his head.
“Ask who it is,” he mouthed.
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Tell him it’s Naomi, and I don’t like this third-party interrogation one bit.”
Jessica blanched. “It’s your ex-wife, and she says she doesn’t like this third-party interrogation one bit.”
Stone grinned, and when he did, Jessica’s spirits lifted.
“You tell her I’m busy, and unless she’s been kidnapped or bleeding to death, I don’t need to know.”
Jessica’s eyes were dancing. “He says to tell you…”
“I heard what he said,” Naomi muttered. “And you tell him— No. Never mind. I must have been out of my mind to even call.”
By now, Jessica was grinning widely. “She says, she must have been out of her mind to call.”
There was a distinct click in Jessica’s ear.
“She hung up.”
Stone was leaning on his mop with a silly grin on his face.
“Then that means you can do the same.”
Jessica hung up the receiver, and then stood, watching as Stone returned to mopping up the water he’d dripped.
“Umm…Stone?”
“What, honey?”
“Does that happen often?”
He glanced up. “What? You mean her calling like that?”
She nodded.
“Oddly enough, I hadn’t heard from her in years and then she called a couple of days ago. That call was the second time this week. The first time she called to tell me she was getting married. Knowing Naomi, it didn’t amount to anything but boredom or curiosity.” Then he shrugged. “This time, who the hell knows.”
“Do you still love her?”
There was such uncertainty in her voice that Stone dropped the mop and, within seconds, had her in his arms.
“Jessie Leigh, compared to the way I feel about you, I’m not sure I ever did.”
Jessica bloomed as the microwave dinged. “I think the steaks are hot.”
Stone lowered his head. “Oooh, honey, so am I.”
Hours later, the digital dial on Stone’s clock was registering 12:45 a.m. as they came up for air.
Stone brushed the hair from Jessie’s eyes and then ran his hand possessively over her bare midriff.
“How do you feel about a midnight supper?”
Jessica stretched and then smiled, like a well-fed cat who had its owner right under its paw.
“But you’ve already had dessert,” she said.
Stone got up and reached for his jeans, ignoring his nudity, as well as the interested look from the woman in his bed.
“I know what I’ve had,” he drawled. “But it’s my place. My bed. Here, I make the rules.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t seem fair.”
He looked back, cocking an eyebrow as he gave her an appreciative stare.
“You know what, sweet thing? Tonight, lying there in my bed, all mussed and rumpled, you’ve come close to giving me heartburn. Now, I know my limitations as well as the next man, and I know if I don’t get something substantial into my belly, I’m going to fade on you fast.”
“Does that mean we can’t do it again?”
He grinned. “Pretty much.”
She rolled out of bed. “I guess I’m getting hungry, too.”
He laughed. “I thought you’d see it my way.”
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