Song of the Blackbird (Albatross Prison #1)

by DB Michaels

  Forget the menus. My God, he looked incredible. She knew what she wanted for dinner and it definitely wasn’t food. He’d showered and put on a tight black T-shirt, one that hugged every inch of his gorgeous, well-built chest. His biceps were huge and those forearms...those forearms were magnificent. Emma swallowed and hastily looked away. God. Where was that ice pack?

  “Something wrong?” He came closer.

  “No. Of course not. Why?”

  “You look flushed all of a sudden.”

  “I’m fine.” She fanned herself with a hand. “Do you want dinner? I was going to order something.”

  “What would you like?” He reached for a menu.

  You. Anyway you like it. “Anything is fine.” Emma threw the whole stash of menus at him and hastily darted around the counter as far away from him as possible. “I love all sorts of food.”

  “Alright.” He gave her a funny look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. Fine.” He was in sweatpants, of all things. They were gray, soft, comfortable looking, something nice to lounge in. Not sexy at all. Good. She could breathe again. But then she imagined herself snuggling next to those pants, feeling those long, powerful legs of his pressed against hers.

  “Um, excuse me for a second.” She made a beeline for the bathroom. “Let me know what you want to order.”

  Oh, my God. What was wrong with her? Emma splashed some much-needed cold water on her face as soon as the door closed. Get a grip, Em. The man was her boss, here only because he was hurt. End of story. No point to be mooning all over him. She scrubbed off her makeup. Was that a bloodstain on her blouse? It must have been from Maxim’s wound. She took off the shirt and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and her favorite pink sweater.

  “So have you decided on anything yet?” she asked, glad she had herself under control again as she rejoined him on the sofa.

  “How about Italian?”

  “Sure. Sounds great.”

  “You like that, right?” he said, flipping to another menu.

  “Of course.”

  “I mean, we could try something else. Whatever you want is fine.” He went to a third piece of paper.

  “Just order, Maxim. I can eat anything.”

  He turned the menu over and glanced up at her, his eyes widening at her outfit.

  “Is something wrong?” He had the most peculiar expression on his face.

  “No.” Maxim dug a hand through his hair. “So you want to order?”

  “Sure. Let me see.” She took the menu and did a quick perusal. Her stomach was growling, so anything would be good. “Vegetable lasagna, spaghetti with meatballs, chicken alfredo, lobster ravioli, two baskets of bread, two salads, and a strawberry cheesecake for dessert. Sound good?”

  “Uh. My turn now?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  “No. That’s for both of us.” God, he must think she was such a pig. Or maybe not. Maxim’s lips were twitching.

  “Just for that, I’m not letting you share.” She laughed and swatted his arm with the menu.

  “I didn’t say anything.” He chuckled, his silver eyes dancing.

  It was as if someone reached inside her chest and squeezed out all the air. They were laughing together, she’d never thought it possible. This magnificent, wonderful, stubborn man who’d saved her life not once but twice. And those amazing eyes were stirring up her insides as nothing else. A warm feeling spread in her chest as her heart did a somersault.

  Maxim cleared his throat and finally broke eye contact. Was he noticing it, too? This incredible pull and attraction between them? Dear God, she hoped it wasn’t all one-sided. He stretched and rubbed his hand on the back of his head, suddenly wincing.

  The wound! How could she have forgotten? “Let me look.” Emma hastily leaned over. “It may have opened up in the shower.”

  “Please order the food.” His voice was strained. “I’m fine.”

  “Turn your head the other way.” Emma tilted his head with her fingertips and brushed aside his thick black hair. Thank goodness, the staples were intact. “It looks good.”

  “I’m sure it is. Stop hovering, will you? It’s driving me crazy.”

  “Okay, fine.” What was wrong with the man? One minute he was joking with her and the next he was as tense as a board.

  Emma went to the kitchen to order the food and by the time she came back, Maxim was absorbed in his laptop. So he wasn’t in the mood to talk, she could deal with that. She pulled out her iPhone to check if Charles had sent any updates.

  Charles was supposed to conduct another CPT session with Sam today, but he had to attend a PTSD conference in San Diego so they’d tentatively rescheduled for Monday. He’d promised to confirm the time with her and to pass on any new information he learned at the conference. Sam seemed to be improving, not having a panic attack in over a week now but Emma was sure he still needed help. He seemed afraid of his own shadow sometimes.

  Her cell suddenly rang. Maxim grunted at the interruption, not bothering to look up from his laptop.

  “Charles. Hi.” Emma smiled, recognizing the psychiatrist’s voice immediately. “I was just thinking about you. How was the conference?”

  “Productive. I learned some new data that may help Sam out.”

  “Yeah?” Emma brought the phone to the kitchen and lowered her voice. Hopefully Maxim wouldn’t be able to hear from this far away.

  “Yes. I’ll brief you on Monday.”

  “What time on Monday?”

  “Five thirty would be good.”

  “Great. I can’t wait. Thanks so much, Charles.” She hung up the phone, her mood lighter than even before. She returned to the sofa and found Maxim still hunched over the laptop. “What’s taking so long with the food?”

  “Beats me.”

  “I hope they come soon. Are you hungry?”

  “No.” He shrugged his shoulders and continued typing.

  “Is your head okay?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Did you take the Motrin I left out for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “The ice pack is all melted. Do you want another one?”

  “Jesus, Emma. I’m trying to work here.” He glared at her, a ferocious scowl on his face as he picked up his cell.

  “Fine. I’ll get out of your way.” She quit the sofa and camped out at the dining table. What was up with the man? He was like a grouchy beast all of a sudden.

  “No, I need doctor’s notes for all of them,” Maxim demanded to a poor underling on the phone a few minutes later. “You bet. Fifty of them couldn’t be sick at the same time. Give them a letter of instruction if they don’t provide the notes. Yes, deduct their pay, too, if you have to.”

  He shook his head and stood to pace the room. “And question every inmate in 207. What else? About the drugs, of course. Pay attention, will you? No, no 115. If they can name names, they get protection. Yes, that’s my order—deal with it.”

  He rolled his eyes and dug a hand through his hair. “I don’t care if they’re busy. The K-9 units need to patrol 207. No, not once in a while. Didn’t you get my email? Every day for the next week. And I want the dogs in the OHU and Urgent Care, too. I don’t care if CIM needs them. Tell Banding we need them more.”

  He tossed the phone down and plopped back on the sofa where he promptly began rubbing his temples with his fingertips.

  “Are you okay? Is your head hurting again?” The man was working too hard. Why couldn’t he rest like any normal person?

  “My head’s fine.” He threw her another scowl. “Stop hovering so much, Emma. It’s very annoying.”

  “Jeez, fine.” Was it bad news he’d gotten from the prison? One moment he was all good humor and the next angry as hell. Or was it the meclizine? She didn’t know but she wanted the pleasant Maxim back, not this ogre of a man who seemed ready to bite her head off.

  Dinner was a tense affair, to say the least. Maxim ate his salad and spaghetti from the sofa, refusing to leave his
computer. Emma finished the alfredo and half of the lobster ravioli but couldn’t finish the rest. She’d lost her appetite with Maxim being so surly. She put the leftovers, including the cheesecake, in the refrigerator.

  Maxim had switched to surfing on his phone by the time she finished showering and brushing her teeth. The table was clean and the dishes she’d left in the sink were stacked neatly in the dishwasher. The man was full of surprises. He still looked upset about something, though.

  “So you’re done with your work?” she asked tentatively.

  “For now.” His eyes never lifted from the phone.

  “Good. I want to do a quick neuro check.” She picked up the big flashlight she used for emergencies from the kitchen drawer and walked over to him. “It’ll be quick. Can you look this way? I need to check your pupillary response.”

  “My what?” He looked up, his silver eyes seeming to blaze with heat for a second.

  “Your pupils.” She shined a light in each one. “Lucky your eyes are so light. I can see your pupils easily. Good. They react perfectly.”

  Maxim was giving her that intense scrutiny again. Emma shivered, feeling hot and cold all of a sudden. Had she forgotten to fasten her robe or something? She glanced down. No, thank goodness. Everything was properly tied, covering her from head to toe.

  “Now for the rest of the exam,” she said, trying to get things back on track.

  “There’s more to this torture?”

  “Yes. Just bear with me. They’re questions to make sure you’re thinking straight.”

  “Good luck with that,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “Of course.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Oh, come on, Emma. This is ridiculous.”

  “It’s part of the neuro check. The sooner you do it, the sooner I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Well, since you put it that way.”

  He easily answered the rest of the questions. She had him walk in tandem gait, touching his tiptoes to his heels to test his balance and he passed that as well. She, on the other hand, wasn’t faring so well. Watching those powerful legs was a bit distracting to say the least. Did the man have to be built so magnificently?

  “You’re doing really well,” she said, fanning herself as they sat back on the sofa.

  “Good. Can I get back to work now?” He pointed to his laptop. “I have a ton of emails to catch up with.”

  “All right. I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours to do another neuro check.”

  “Come on, Emma,” he groaned. “That’s overkill.”

  “I know it seems like that but we can’t be too careful.” She smiled and raised a hand. “I won’t do the whole exam. Just ask a few questions.”

  “Fine.”

  Emma headed to the hall cabinet to pull out some extra sheets and a pillow. “I hope you can get some rest tonight,” she said as she handed him the bed items.

  “I doubt I’ll get any.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Sorry. I know the sofa’s small.”

  “It’s not that.” He flicked her a glance. “Good night, Emma.”

  “Good night.” She tugged at her robe tie. “Do you mind if I turn off the lights? I can’t sleep unless it’s really dark.”

  “No problem.” His eyes were back on the computer.

  “And wake me up if you need anything,” she added.

  He made an odd growling sound, not bothering to answer.

  Emma turned off the lights and took off her robe before curling up underneath the covers. The room was dark except for a glimmer of moonlight filtering through the blinds at the kitchen window. The refrigerator’s soft whir and the distant sound of dishes being washed by her next-door neighbor were reassuringly familiar. Occasionally she’d catch the soft clicking of Maxim’s keyboard as he typed one thing or another.

  Emma took in a deep breath and pulled the comforter up to her chest. It was cold tonight. How nice it’d be to cuddle up next to Maxim. His body was like a furnace. Too bad he seemed as approachable as a block of ice right now. Or more like a flaming ball of fire. Still, despite his gruffness, it was comforting knowing he was close by.

  Chapter 25

  The computer screen turned blurry after another hour of answering emails. Words and numbers merged into one another in no decipherable pattern. Maxim rubbed his eyes, sure Emma must be asleep by now. It hurt to pretend not to care, to shut her out with his work but what else was he supposed to do? His couple of attempts at a joke had earned a few precious laughs. She looked so beautiful when she laughed, like the sunrise peeking over the horizon chasing away the gray cobwebs of night. His world had brightened and for a moment he’d been foolish enough to hope. To dare dream of a time when she’d entrust her precious heart to him.

  But then the phone had rung. And she was confiding in Stewart, whispering about plans to meet on Monday. He’d been such a fool. Emma laughed with everyone. Her generous heart reached out to all those in need. He was no one special, really, only someone she was grateful to, someone she felt obligated to take care of. Maxim sighed and stood, stretching his arms.

  He moved to the kitchen to fetch a drink of water, careful not to peek at the bed in the corner of the studio. Was that a snore? He smiled. It wasn’t anything loud or obnoxious, just a soft purr that was perfectly ordinary. Yet it called to him like a beacon. He couldn’t help but look over.

  Emma’s arms and legs were flung out wide as she lay sprawled on her back with the comforter thrown back. Light cotton pajamas covered most of her delicious body but the shirt was riding up her abdomen, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her tiny waist. Her dark hair spread like a black velvet curtain over the pillow. How he’d love to thread his fingers through those long, silky strands.

  Her face was exquisite, softly lit by moonlight, young and innocent. Lovely. What would she ever want with a big brute of a man like him? He shook his head at the impossibility of it all. She would never and more importantly, should never settle for someone as bitter and tainted as he was.

  Sighing, Maxim pulled the comforter up to tuck under her chin. She uttered a protesting sound and rolled onto her side, dismissing him in sleep as easily as she’d dismissed him in life.

  As he was about to head back to the sofa, Emma suddenly flung both arms out. “Sam. Stop! Don’t kill him!” she screamed, thrashing her head from side to side. “Sam! Don’t leave me. Don’t die! No! No!” She wailed and burst out sobbing.

  “Emma, it’s only a dream.” Maxim sat on the bed and hastily turned on the light. The poor woman. What was scaring her so much? “It’s okay. Wake up, Emma. You’re having a nightmare.”

  Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed at him, the tears coursing down her cheeks. “Maxim? What are you doing here?”

  “Remember, I needed the neuro checks?” How he ached to wrap his arms around her and chase away the tears. But that would frighten her even more. He was huge. His size intimidated most people, let alone a slip of a woman in the throes of a nightmare.

  “Oh. I forgot.” She wiped her cheeks with an unsteady hand. “How’s your head? Is it time for the check already?”

  “No. I’m fine.” He reached out and brushed a lingering tear away with the pad of his thumb. Even in distress, she thought of others. Was there no limit to her kindness? “Don’t worry about me. You had a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. Just hold me. Please.” She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

  His breath stilled as the world tilted. What a gift to be bestowed her trust. Something in his chest squeezed hard as he hugged her close and felt her delicate body tremble.

  “I’m so scared.” Her muffled sobs reverberated in the quiet room.

  “It was only a dream,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let anybody hurt you.”

  Gradually her tears subsided and her breathing became more even. Who the hell was Sam and wh
y was she so scared? He’d never felt so helpless in his life. “Who’s Sam?” he asked.

  “What?” Her body tensed as she pulled away, her green eyes shadowed with fear. “Why do you ask?”

  “You were yelling out his name.” Maxim’s heart thudded. Was Sam her boyfriend? Maybe even an ex-husband? She seemed to care a lot for the guy.

  “What else did I say?” Her tone was wary, afraid.

  He hastened to reassure her. “Not much. You said you didn’t want him to die.”

  “That’s it?”

  “And for someone to stop.”

  Emma rubbed her forehead with her fingers and backed farther away from him.

  “Emma, what is it? Who’s Sam?”

  “Sam is my…” She swallowed and turned those haunted green eyes toward him. “He’s my brother.” The words were soft and barely audible.

  “Your brother?” A certain weight lifted off Maxim’s chest.

  “Yes. In my dream, someone was beating him. He couldn’t move. He screamed and screamed but nobody came.” Her voice shook and her hand clenched down on the comforter. “I tried to run to him but something held me back. I don’t know what it was. I tried so hard but I couldn’t move. Finally I broke free. But it was too late. By the time I reached him, he was already dead.” She burst into fresh tears.

  “Come here.” Maxim pulled her into his arms again and held her tight. If only he could chase away her demons. Those tears tore at his soul like nothing else. He would do anything for her. This incredible, kind, selfless, beautiful woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand.

  “You love your brother a lot, don’t you?” He gently brushed his hand over the silky mane of her hair.

  “Of course. More than anything in the world.” She hiccupped and choked back more tears. “He’s the only family I have left. My dad died before I was born. Sam and I were so close when we were kids. We did everything together. But then we kind of drifted apart and then something awful happened.” She wrapped her arms tight around him, her light body shaking again. “Oh, Maxim, he died. It seemed so real.”