Wanting (38 page)

He pondered his brother’s
words a moment...dark eyes? “You’ve lost someone, haven’t you,
Mick?”

His brother’s eyes flashed,
eyes the same color as Malachi’s. “None of your damned business,
Mal. It’s not open for discussion.”

“
Anytime it is...” Mal
watched as his brother stormed into the kitchen. Grabbed the
obviously heavy trash from Paige’s hands and shouldered open the
outside door. The kitchen’s occupants paused a moment, watching
him, as well.

Mick’s behavior confirmed
Mal’s suspicion. Paige reminded his brother of someone—someone he’d
cared a great deal for. Someone he’d lost. And Mick was taking his
grief out on Paige. Unfairly. Mal would have to make sure the
situation didn’t get out of hand—for either Paige or
Mick.

In the meantime—that bag of
trash Julia held did look somewhat heavy. He walked into the
kitchen with purpose.

***

Julia was exhausted, but
she wasn’t leaving until the last of the kitchen was spotless.
She’d enjoyed spending the time with Alex’s parents and had
probably stayed a little too late. She was exhausted and her whole
body ached. Still, it had been nice to see how a family interacted.
Marilyn and Kenneth Brockman were the kind of parents every child
from a dysfunctional family dreamed about. Alex and her brothers
were very lucky.

Julia’s mother and
step-father had drunk themselves into oblivion every night until
they’d died in a drunken accident around Julia’s twentieth
birthday. Not exactly Norman Rockwell. Not like the
Brockmans.

Julia, Paige, and them—Mick
and Malachi—shooed the elder couple out the door. They’d worked
hard enough pulling the party together, they didn’t need to worry
about the cleanup, too.

After they left—Alex
driving them home, Jules, Paige, and the two brothers worked
diligently returning Malachi and Alex’s home back into the spacious
open floor living area it was intended to be. Jules took down the
decoration with silent help from the giant Mikhail. Paige and Mal
collected all the trash scattered throughout the house. Even though
the house was huge by most standards—huge and open, airy—it’s first
level wasn’t designed to hold over two hundred people comfortably.
But it had. And it was left to four people to clean up the
results.

If Malachi Brockman and his
brother weren’t there, Julia wouldn’t have minded at all. But they
did come in handy for heavy lifting.

Soon it was all finished,
the only thing left to do was carrying out the remaining trash
bags. Paige and Julia agreed the brothers could handle that little
chore, and Jules gathered her things. Paige would be staying the
night. She lived clear across town, in a small basement apartment
that was currently being repaired. It had been damaged by fire two
months ago, and Paige had been staying with Alex and Malachi until
the repairs were finished. Normally she stayed in the guest room,
but had given that up for Mikhail.

Paige disappeared, but
Jules knew she’d most likely found her bed. Paige ran on an odd
metabolic clock. She could stay up for days at a time and be fine,
but once she hit bottom, she slept hard. Jules worried about her
friend. Paige’s nightmares would catch up to her one
day.

Her sigh was long as she
threw her backpack over her shoulder. Thankfully, Jules didn’t live
too far away. Fifteen minutes and she’d be home in her own
bed.

***

Malachi knew when she was
ready to leave, and he met her by the back door. “Ready to go,
Julia? You’re more than welcome to stay here. We still have a bed
free.”

“
What about Paige?” Her
words were low, exhausted, and suspicious. Mal fought a soft smile.
He resisted the urge to torment her somehow—she was obviously too
tired for a good sparring match. In fact, she looked more than
tired, she looked almost wan.

“
Crashed on the porch.
Hammock.”

“
It’s thirty degrees
outside! And snowing!”

“
It’s enclosed and there’s
a small heater out there. She’ll be fine. She’s done it before. She
likes sleeping outside.” Probably a remnant of sleeping in alleys
and on park benches. It made Mal frown. Maybe it wasn’t a good
thing. He’d have to give it more thought. Later.

“
No. I’m going home.” Jules
shook her head. “Don’t leave her out there. It’s too cold for her
to lie out there.”

“
Honestly—I think she did
it deliberately. Put some space between her and Mikhail. He makes
her nervous.”

“
That’s because he’s a
jackass. I think it’s a trait his brother shares.” Her dig was said
around a yawn so it lacked impact. Mal grabbed her arm and shook it
chidingly.

“
That’s not nice, Dr.
Bellows. I’m a perfect gentleman. My brother’s the same. That’s the
way our mother raised us.”

Julia snorted then
sniffled. “Your mother may be a remarkable woman—and I do mean
that—but she failed in one area. Two, if you count your
brother.”

“
You are a heartless
woman.”

“
I never said otherwise.”
Jules walked carefully down the drive, her heels crunching in the
snow. Malachi stayed at her side in the uneven drive.

Jules said nothing as they
approached her car. She slipped her key in the lock and turned to
her companion. “Well, as you can see I’ve arrived at my car. Your
duty is done—”

He grinned.
“Juli—”

The thud sent him reeling
into her. Jules screamed, arms reaching up to catch him as he fell.
Dark shadows seemed to come from everywhere, surrounding them
quickly. Malachi jerked, his hand falling against her car. He spun,
fist shooting out at the first shadow…

Other Titles

By

Calle J. Brookes

Paranormal

The Blood King
(Dardanos)

Awakening the Demon’s Queen
(Dardanos)

The Healer’s Heart
(Dardanos)

Once Wolf Bitten
(Dardanos)

Live or Die
(Dardanos)

The Seer’s Strength
(Dardanos)

The Warrior’s Woman
(Dardanos)

Romantic
Suspense

Watching (PAVAD)

Wanting (PAVAD)

Calle Jaye Brookes is first
and foremost a fiction writer. She enjoys crafting paranormal
romance and romantic suspense. She reads almost every genre except
horror. In her day job she is a fiction content editor for an
epublisher that opened in 2011. She spends most of her time
juggling family life and writing, while reminding herself that she
can’t spend all of her time in the worlds found within books. Calle
Jaye loves to be contacted by her readers via email and at
www.CalleJBrookes.Wordpress.com