The Wells Brothers: Aaron

by Angela Verdenius

  Carrot bounced out after him. As Shea stood there stunned, she heard her brother talking to the cat. The meaning of his words finally sank in and slowly she smiled, turning back to the pot of stew.

  Sometimes her brother was a drongo, other times he surprised her by being protective, showing signs of maturity. Then times like this…times like this she was so glad they’d made it through everything that had been thrown at them and come out closer than ever. It could have created a division between them but he’d stood beside her, had her back every time the knocks kept coming, helped her stand her ground.

  Now he was helping her with this.

  Helping her with the scam.

  The smile slowly died, her thoughts troubled as she put the spoon aside and replaced the lid on the pot. Placing the second steaming bowl on the table, she retrieved the bread and butter, set them on the table with the side plates and margarine.

  Returning to the kitchen, Cole took a seat. Grabbing a slice of bread, he hungrily smeared margarine on it while chatting about how Aaron had told him a bit about security, what Aaron valued in a man, and even shown him the shed in the backyard which he’d turned into his own gymnasium for one. In particular, Cole was in awe of the heavy weights Aaron lifted, and chattered on about the need for security people to keep fit at all times.

  It was clear that her brother had been hugely impressed by Aaron Wells.

  Smiling, nodding, making appropriate noise, all Shea could think of was that Aaron had spoken to her brother of honesty, while she-

  “Did you hear me?”

  Startled, she blinked, bringing her brother’s face into focus. “Sorry. What?”

  “Aaron asked me how I managed to feed you the information about the tabby cat he’d been looking at.”

  “Ah. And you told him…?”

  Cole grinned widely. “I’d seen him when we first checked out this place and remembered him, so I recognised him when I saw him walk past the window of a pet shelter and glance at a picture of a cat. He stopped, checked it out, so when he walked off I crossed the road to see what kind of cat would catch his attention. The photo of a grey tabby was right where he’d been looking.”

  “I bet he was impressed at your high level of intelligence.”

  “Actually, Shea, he was.” Cole winked. “I also told him I’d seen Luke pinch the Iced Coffee when the bloke he was working with turned his back which, of course, I told you and it freaked Aaron’s brother out when you relayed it. Aaron said if I kept up that level of observation I’d make a good security agent one day.”

  Oh boy. Shea scooped up a spoonful of stew. “Is that what you’re thinking of doing? Security?”

  “Just security? Nah.” Cole waved that idea away with a flick of his hand.

  “So the computer nerd still rules.”

  “The computer nerd who can be an integral part of a security mission.” His eyes glowed enthusiastically.

  Cole continued to talk about security, computers, and all the avenues for a person skilled in computers.

  When he started on about honesty and integrity, Shea smiled numbly and kept swallowing stew.

  ~*~

  After a troubled nights sleep Shea got up early, dressed in leggings, floppy shirt and sneakers and hit the streets, walking the quiet area with only early morning traffic for company. Picking up pace, she passed businesses of all sizes and descriptions, going from the quiet backstreet into the more central area of the city.

  It was a nice walk, the morning air holding the night’s coolness, birds hopping along the pavement in front of several open cafes where business people flocked for an early breakfast before heading for work.

  Striding out, she circled several blocks before returning home. As she neared she saw the big pots with the plants she’d chosen because she’d liked them and had found the meanings for later to impress clients. The window decal she and Cole had spent time designing before having it printed and applied was pretty, eye-catching, the business’s title, The Mystic Shop, catchy.

  Coming to a halt, she looked at the sign on the door with the times listed. Above it in stylish, flowing script, was written ‘Stella Donahue - Clairvoyant, Psychic, Medium.’

  All of it was a fake.

  Shit. Scowling, she shot a glance at the Wells Security building. Damn it, before she’d met Aaron Wells she’d been set on her pathway. Sure, she’d felt guilty at times for duping people, but hey, she’d been betrayed, her honesty backfired. She’d gone through hell and back and now she had a business where she didn’t have to answer to anyone.

  Only your conscience.

  Shut up.

  People come to you thinking you can really talk to the dead.

  I give them a little peace, a little happiness.

  You take their money.

  It’s harmless.

  They believe you.

  I’m not the only one who does this.

  Is that a good enough reason?

  Damn it, who else would hire me?

  “Everything okay?”

  Spinning around, she almost fell backwards onto her arse when faced with the tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed, brooding man with the air of menace oozing from him.

  Ryan saved her the indignity by grabbing her upper arm to steady her.

  “Oh, Ryan, hi.” Recovering, Shea smiled, pushing a stray tendril of hair back behind her ear.

  His gaze went from her to the shop and back again. “Problem?”

  “Hmm?”

  “More phone calls?”

  “I get phone calls all the time. People book readings.”

  “Have the crank calls started again?”

  “No, I haven’t had any lately. Why do you ask?”

  “You don’t look very happy.”

  “Oh.” She gave a small laugh. “You know - thoughts.”

  “Wanting to share?”

  That was unexpected. “With you?”

  His expression didn’t change one iota.

  “I mean - I’m sorry, that was rude.” Shea touched his shoulder.

  He looked down at her hand, back up at her face.

  Quickly, she jerked her hand back. “Sorry.” Geez, was that the only word she knew when around him? Man totally unnerved her.

  Before she could do anything else, a black SUV rolled up the driveway to disappear behind Wells Security building.

  “Boss,” Ryan said briefly without moving.

  Shea cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, everything’s fine, Ryan. I’m sure you’re a nice bloke, you just kind of caught me by surprise.” Not knowing what else to do, she stupidly held out her hand. “We okay?”

  His unfathomable gaze dropped to her hand.

  Idiot! Shea gave a mental groan. As if he’s going to-

  Ryan’s hand closed around hers in a surprisingly gentle shake.

  Her mouth almost dropped open.

  “Hey Shea, where did you disappear to?” The front door swung open and Cole squinted out into the light. His widening gaze went from Shea to Ryan. “Um…hi.”

  Ryan gave him a brief nod.

  “Is something wrong?” Cole stepped out.

  “Don’t come out in your socks,” Shea said automatically.

  Ryan cut his eyes to her.

  Was that seriously a faint twitch of his lips? Or a figment of her imagination?

  A closer look showed nothing but his usually unreadable expression. Nope, definitely a figment of her imagination. The man probably didn’t even know how to smile.

  Cole wisely kept his sock-clad feet inside the shop doorway.

  Looking as cool as a cucumber, Aaron strolled around the corner of the fence. The man looked, well, like Aaron normally looked. Jeans, boots, open-necked shirt and black suit jacket. In her floppy shirt, leggings and sneakers, with a definite sheen of sweat on her brow, Shea felt decidedly icky and a little self-conscious, especially when she remembered the feel of him deep inside her, those strong thighs against hers, those unsmiling lips curved up in amusement be
fore driving her wild.

  The tell-tale blush rode up her cheeks.

  Aaron smiled slightly.

  Bloody man thought he knew what she was thinking.

  Probably did.

  Shoving down all lascivious thoughts of the golden-haired Adonis - yep, in the sunlight his hair was all golden, no shades of brown, just a chameleon changing to suit the environment - stopping beside her, Shea managed a cool smile. “’Morning.”

  A definite twinkle in his eyes, Aaron dropped a kiss on the top of her head as though he did it every day of the week.

  Cole smirked.

  Ryan, of course, didn’t show one iota of emotion or betrayal of his thoughts. Shame she couldn’t really speak to the dead, she’d sure as heck would have liked to startle the shit out of him just to get a reaction.

  “Hey, Cole,” Aaron greeted easily.

  “Hey, Aaron.” Cole attempted to be cool about the whole thing but Shea knew he was pleased to see Aaron.

  Hero-worship much? Still, there could be worse people to hero-worship. Such as Ryan with his dangerous, brooding air and hint of cruelty in his eyes as he swept the area with a glance that seemed to see everything while revealing nothing.

  The phone ringing saved the day.

  “Geez,” said Cole. “Business is starting early.”

  Shea looked at Aaron. “Better get going.”

  “I’ll call you.”

  “Okay.” She went warm inside at the slight wink, the barest drop of his eyelid as he turned and walked away, Ryan falling into step beside him.

  Cripes, he had the power to make her go a little hot inside with one look. It reminded her of the wicked playfulness the previous day in his bed.

  Whoo boy.

  “Geez.” Her brother rolled his eyes. “Could you look any more dopey?”

  Reaching out, she shoved him backwards. “Just get moving, boyo. You’ve got to get ready for school.”

  “I need food. But if you’re going to go all mooney-eyed during it, I might just throw up.”

  Both amused and a little embarrassed, she lunged suddenly at him. “Come here, you little twerp!”

  Laughing, he danced out of her reach before running through the back door into the hallway. “You missed the phone call!”

  Carrot darted out from his bedroom and nearly tripped him up.

  “Serve you right,” Shea said unsympathetically as her brother stumbled against the wall, catching the little hall side table to steady himself. “Even Carrot knows what a little turd you are at times.”

  “Carrot’s just sucking up to the Food Mistress.” Grinning, Cole scooped Carrot up in his arms to bury his face against the cat’s stomach and blow raspberries.

  Carrot, completely unimpressed, struggled.

  “Don’t look at me when you hack up a hairball.” Shea walked past them.

  Breakfast consisted of filling up her growing brother before sending him on his way. Cole passed the kitchen window minutes later on his pushbike, helmet securely fastened, giving Shea a cheeky kissy-face as he passed.

  Feeling happier, she dealt quickly with the dishes before showering and changing into her Stella persona. Going into the shop, she shut the door into the hallway and flipped the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’.

  Ginger resumed his haughty position on the counter next to the cash register. Doing his usual Sphinx impersonation, he gazed at Shea out of half shut eyes.

  “Anyone seeing you would think you’re as mystical as me.” She ruffled his ears, rewarded by his dreamy gaze and loud purr. “Faker.” She grimaced. “Hells bells, that word is throwing itself at me a lot lately. Okay, boy, let’s get this show on the road.”

  No sooner had she said the words than the door opened, the old-fashioned bell atop it tingling. Hands clasped loosely at her waist, Shea turned with a serene smile to welcome her first client of the day.

  It took all she had to keep her expression tranquil when she saw who had entered her shop.

  Donna, the daughter of Sally. Both had been at the gathering held by Janice Fortworth. Sally had been anxious, Donna wary.

  Donna was now standing in Shea’s shop.

  Donna, whom Shea suspected was pregnant.

  Oh boy.

  Maintaining the smile, she inclined her head slightly. “Hi, Donna.” For the life of her, she couldn’t tack on ‘I’ve been expecting you’ which would have been a great draw card. Truth to tell, Shea was getting some major alarm bells ringing in the back of her head.

  “I need help,” Donna said bluntly.

  Oh geez.

  “I need advice.” Her hands were wringing the living daylights out of the shoulder strap of her school backpack. “And as you’re the only one who can see into the future, you’re the one to give it to me.”

  Hells bloody bells.

  Chapter 9

  Oh cripes, that’s torn it.

  Now look what your scam has gotten you into!

  Shut up. I can do this.

  Do what? Fabricate a sweet story? That ain’t going to gel, sister.

  I’ll figure out something.

  She’s pregnant, a teenager, and you’re going to con her? Nice one.

  Moving forward with unhurried grace, Shea flipped the ‘Reading in Session’ sign on the glass and locked the door before turning to gesture towards the small table in the corner of the room behind the pale blue silk screen. “Please, Donna, have a seat.”

  Dropping the backpack by her feet, Donna sank into a chair, watching Shea warily as Shea sat opposite her.

  Linking her fingers, Shea laid her hands on the table and studied Donna while trying to calm her inner turmoil and figure out what the hell she was going to say. Probably feeling her way around the truth might be the best way to go, a hint here and there, see what Donna revealed. Maybe she wouldn’t say anything about the suspected pregnancy, maybe it was boy trouble or -

  “I’m pregnant,” Donna blurted.

  Nope, definitely pregnancy.

  “I know,” Shea said softly. I suspected.

  “So what do I do?”

  Shea took in the belligerent expression.

  I wish I’d opened a deli instead. Why didn’t I open a deli instead? I should be dishing out pies and chips, bread and newspapers, not advice to a pregnant teenage girl who thinks I can see into the future.

  The weight of the moment pressed down on her.

  “Well?” Donna demanded. “Ask your Spirit or ghost or whatever to tell me what to do.”

  Geez, if only it was that easy.

  Feigning composure, Shea carefully felt her way. “Spirit tells me that this has been a secret.” No need to guess that one.

  “Of course it’s a secret! How can I tell my mother I’m pregnant? She’ll be telling me ‘I told you so’ for the rest of my miserable life!”

  Whoa. Hold it together, Shea. “I’m being shown a pool of ripples.” She laid her palms flat on the table.

  Seemingly unimpressed, Donna folded her arms.

  “A pool represents a life, the ripples are disturbances,” Shea continued. “Ripples in your life, Donna.”

  “The biggest ripple is this baby!”

  She wasn’t kidding. A baby while in high school? That was going to have a major impact on Donna’s life. “I’m being shown a shadowy figure.”

  Donna leaned forward.

  “A male figure.”

  The teenager started chewing one nail. “That’s Brad.”

  No need to guess this one, either. “I’m being shown you and Brad together.”

  “He’s my boyfriend.”

  This time going by gut feeling, Shea murmured, “He doesn’t know.”

  “No. I can’t tell him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I was supposed to be on the pill and I forgot to take it!”

  Okay then. Maybe Brad should have used a condom for extra protection, not to mention defence against an STD, but Shea didn’t think it was the right time to be pressing home the other bene
fits of safe sex.

  Uncertain what to tell Donna next, Shea searched her memory for every article she’d ever read on teen pregnancies, help lines, groups, counsellors - anything.

  “You have to help me.” Donna gripped the edge of the table. “My Mum will kill me. She had me when she was young and she’s been preaching the virgin status ever since I got my period! When she finds out I’m pregnant, she is going to kill me! Do you hear me? Kill me!”

  Ginger’s ears pricked, his gaze narrowing on her as he sat up.

  Donna glanced at him, bit her lip and sat back in the chair.

  Thank God for Ginger and his rather formidable look. Donna must have thought he was mystical or something, because she kept shooting him nervous glances as he stared unblinkingly at her.

  “Cats have a link to the spiritual plane,” Shea said. “Don’t mind Ginger, he feels your anxiety.”

  Nodding, she switched her attention to Shea. “What do I do, Stella? What do you see in my future?”

  Closing her eyes, Shea kept her back straight as she thought frantically.

  “Do I abort this baby?”

  Oh shit. Like Shea could answer that? Oh my God, I am so in over my head!

  “Please, Stella.” Her voice wobbled. “Please help me.”

  Opening her eyes, Shea saw the teenager’s eyes well with tears. Within seconds Donna started crying.

  Instinctively Shea reached across the table and took her hand.

  Donna grabbed onto her as though she’d thrown her a lifeline.

  Watching her cry, Shea felt helpless. Uncharted territory, she’d never been in this position before. Every reading she’d done had been vague, feelings of a ‘happy future’, finding one’s ‘true love’, being there for each other, sweet messages ‘from beyond’, vague messages when someone wanted something more such as ‘when will my boyfriend ask me to marry him?’ and ‘should I buy a house?’. Her answers were always calculated to be taken however the client wanted, and most times the client fed her enough unintentional hints and feedback to give them the answer they felt comfortable with, without risking the reputation she was building.

  Her false reputation.

  Her very false reputation that was now coming to haunt her.

  If she wasn’t careful she could destroy this teenager’s life, not to mention her relationship, however it might be, with her mother. This was beyond Shea’s scope. This wasn’t her business, plain and simple, but because of her ‘profession’ it had been thrust at her.