by Jane Cousins
His recorded instructions had been clear. Fake normal, at all costs. Avoid talking as much as possible. And when in doubt, act like an asshole.
And this was his life now? Every day? Wake up to horror? Slowly adjust to the stranger he had become? Be a surly asshole? Rinse and repeat.
He’d skimmed the personal journal he kept by the bed on the floor. He was barely hanging onto this existence by his fingertips. And only then for Nico’s sake.
His brother had to live with the stark knowledge of their parents’ death, their sister’s disappearance and this half man he had become every minute of every day. Matias would not contribute to Nico’s burden by taking the coward’s way out. Or by refusing to at least try to tackle each day as if he might find the solution to his problem.
“Matias? You up there?”
Nico! He was thirty years old now, but suddenly he felt young, hopeful that his dependable big brother would make everything alright again. Which was absurd and unfair. Crossing the room, he leapt onto the fire pole and slid down to the ground floor. Ignoring his surroundings, he turned and hugged his older brother.
Thanks to his reset memory issues, to Matias, it had been four days since Nico had left the Merry Maverick, taking the supply boat to fetch the mail and some much needed equipment.
He now knew that Nico had returned to find the Merry Maverick adrift, out of fuel, everyone on board dead, except for a gravely injured, unconscious Matias. Both Kristiah and their sister, Copper, missing.
It had been left to Nico to transport Matias to hospital, call in and deal with the suspicious authorities. Search the ocean for any sign of Copper or Kristiah. And slowly realise that even though his younger brother would recover, he would only ever be half a man.
Matias couldn’t help himself, he hugged Nico tighter still. “I’m so glad to see you.” No doubt he’d said and done that hundreds of times. “Sorry.” Fuck, and how many hundreds of times had he said that?
Nico squeezed him tight in return. “Nothing to be sorry about, Hermanito.”
Damn, it felt good to hug his brother. He bit back the urge to start babbling. To apologise for not saving Mama and Papa. For failing Copper. For having no idea what had happened to their sister or Kristiah. For not doing something... anything, to avert this whole fucked up mess that was now their lives.
Nico thumped his back hard, as if he knew without the words being said what Matias was thinking. Probably because he had listened to the ranting confession too many times in the past.
Resolutely Matias refused to let the words out this time. He knew from his notes and audio catch up that Nico felt just as damn guilty as he did about the whole mess. Wishing he’d never gone on the supply run, or had delayed returning to the Merry Maverick, waiting instead an extra day for a spare motor part to be readied.
They were each weighed down by so much guilt. That thanks to his memory problems neither one of them would be allowed to ever get over. Each day, it was as if his condition meant a bandage was ripped from a raw wound.
It was part of the reason Matias had been the one to insist they cease the search for Copper, Kristiah and their parents’ killer. Nico needed a chance to heal. To mourn and move on, without the circumstances of ten years ago being shoved down his throat every day for the rest of his life.
Matias thumped Nico’s back hard in return. He was just so damn grateful he wasn’t alone in this wretched existence. He hated to think where he’d be without his brother standing staunchly by his side. Probably locked up in some mental institution or long dead by now. It felt selfish but he couldn’t help but thank Saint Medard, for Nico’s presence. And he was gut deep sure that his brother, and best friend, felt the same way.
Nico ruffled Matias’s hair with affection. “You okay?”
Slowly, reluctantly, Matias released his hold and stepped back. The passage of time punched him in the gut once more, Nico looked old... older. He had to be thirty-two now. His dark hair was a little shorter than how he’d been wearing it ten years ago; as a result, it was curlier. There were lines around his eyes. And an old scar on his chin that Matias couldn’t recall. “I’m fine... caught up.”
“Good.” Nico reached over to clap him on the shoulder. Matias caught a flash of relief in his brother’s eyes. Poor Nico, having to deal with this shit daily. Never sure if his younger brother would be on an even keel. Perhaps fearful that one day Matias might do something final and drastic, and not appear when he was called.
Matias smiled. It was easier than he thought, mainly because he felt the need in some small way to lift the burden of his stunted existence from his brother’s shoulders. “So, we own a bar, do I need to request to see the books?”
Nico smiled wryly. “Yes, we do. And if you want to do the paperwork, all you have to do is volunteer.”
“No, no thanks. I’ll stick with tending bar.”
“Just like I thought.” Nico began to walk away. “Come, take a look at the place.”
Matias rounded the bar, following Nico out into the main public area. Studying the decor, and the large rear wall made of interlocking glass doors providing a view of the outdoor entertainment area and beach beyond. He had to admit the place looked good. Converting an old fire station had been smart and keeping a lot of the original elements had been smarter still; the worn red brick walls, the high ceiling, the fire pole.
“So...” He followed Nico’s example and began lifting chairs down off tables. “Are we happy here?”
Nico shrugged, he’d sworn never to lie to his sibling. “We’re getting there.”
“And you live on a boat?”
“Over at the marina. I’d asked you to come see her, but you always say no.”
Matias’s stomach roiled just at the thought. Whether it was the idea of stepping back on a boat or his new found fear of the ocean he wasn’t sure, and didn’t particularly want to dwell on it.
He lifted down a couple more chairs. It was nice to be here, doing something, working with Nico. For just a brief moment he could switch off all the clamouring what ifs, the too fresh ancient memories and just be here and now. “What about women?”
Nico lost his grip on the chair he was lifting down and it fell to the floor with a clatter. “What?”
Matias smiled, bemused. “You okay there?”
“Yeah, it’s just you’ve never... what brought this on?”
Matias shrugged, lifting down two more chairs. He’d searched his journal for any reference to a fantasy woman, and there was nothing. Okay, a couple of times over the last year he’d written the word dream, and underlined it. But no details. No mention of a mysterious naked blonde with hair glowing of fire and moonlight in his life. And now that he really analysed the scenario, he realised she couldn’t be real. Too beautiful. The hazy scene... dream, too fantastical.
But he couldn’t seem to let the idea of her go. Despite all the raw pain and confusion, the idea of her lingered on the periphery of his thoughts. “We’re trying to make a life for ourselves. We seem to have the business part covered, I was just wondering if we...” Fuck, as if he could have a personal life. He saw the flicker of pain register in Nico’s eyes, and forced a smile. “And by we... I mean you, have a special lady friend on the side?”
Although perhaps he hadn’t brought this topic up before because it was so painful. After all, Kristiah and Nico had been practically engaged. What if he was still pining for her? Well, too bad. She’d been gone ten years now. It was time Nico got on with his life. Shed the burdens of the past.
“No. I’ve been too busy setting up this place and riding roughshod over you to meet anyone.”
“Hermano, that’s just sad. You should work on that. And it goes without saying that I am on a break from the ladies.” Shit, no wonder he was fantasizing about dream girls, he was probably just horny as hell.
Sure, from his journal over the years he’d noted down details regarding several brief daylight encounters. But they were nothing more than a desperate fu
tile bid to make a connection. To feel something other than the aching emptiness and raw anger that boiled beneath the calm facade he was trying to maintain.
“Oh.” Nico laughed, seeming to surprise himself. “Well, if I have your permission, I’ll get right onto that.” At that exact moment the front door opened and a stunning red head sauntered in, wearing tight jeans and a snug red t-shirt with the name of their bar written across it in black. Her face lighting up, Matias noted, as her blue eyes zeroed in upon Nico. He recognised her from a photo he had in a file upstairs regarding all things staff and work related.
“Hey, morning Riordan.” Nico flashed the newcomer an easy smile.
“Hey Nico.” Her smile dimming slightly as she caught sight of Matias. “Morning.”
What the... oh, of course, he was the surly asshole behind the bar. He nodded sharply and turned to resume pulling chairs off tables.
“I brought the bread delivery in when I arrived, but could you get the trays in to the fridge?”
“Sure.” Riordan sauntered off to do as Nico requested.
As soon as the redhead was out of sight, Matias halted and just stared at his brother.
“What?” Nico frowned, then looked towards the kitchen and back again. “No, and no way.”
“Why not? She’s gorgeous. Is clearly crushing on you. Hold on, maybe there is something wrong with her after all.”
Nico flicked his head towards the front door. Matias was surprised to see a tall, solidly built man standing there on the other side of the glass door, glaring into the bar. Short inky black hair, square jaw, piercing - miss nothing - blue eyes.
More disturbing was the hand resting on the gun, thankfully still holstered in the belt around the man’s waist. The khaki uniform must mean law enforcement around these parts. “She comes with her own police escort?”
“Four of them. Older brothers. If Riordan is working, one or more of them is always here. Watching over her.”
“They don’t trust us?”
“They don’t trust anyone around their baby sister. Not that they have to worry about my intentions. Riordan is lovely. A real sweetheart. But she’s barely twenty-two. I’m not into cradle snatching. And why are you picking on me? Why don’t you lead by example and nab yourself a lady love?” Nico’s tone softened as he asked the last question.
Typical Nico, the leader, the protector. Obviously living in hope that despite his memory handicap, Matias would find some kind of love connection and be happy.
Matias couldn’t help but laugh. Him, complicate his already insanely complicated world by getting attached to a woman? Huh, he couldn’t even afford to casually hook up now that they were settled in one place. His situation put a whole new meaning on tricky morning after conversation.
But still, he didn’t want to worry Nico with his inane problems. So he laughed again, and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “And just what would I do with a woman? It’s been so long Nico, I vow I am practically a virgin once more.”
Nico barked a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll finish up here. You start behind the bar, and remember, it’s Friday, we’re driving up the coast for a late lunch this afternoon.”
Matias thanked Saint Medard, for all the files and the recording that had caught him up on his life, smiling to soften the irony of his next words. “As if I could forget.”
Chapter Five
Quinn had just finished flicking through a catalogue, and was contemplating pouring herself a second cup of tea when she heard a door slam and the thump of a heavy tread overhead. Finally, Hadleigh was home. Obviously, having just stepped out of the Translocator portal located in the closet attached to the master bedroom on the second floor.
Only eighteen minutes late for their scheduled appointment. Not bad, for Hadleigh.
Quinn bit back a smile as Hadleigh stomped into the kitchen, hair dishevelled, flecks of mud and someone’s blood marring her creamy skin.
“Good. You made yourself at home.” Hadleigh absently wiped clean the blade of the broadsword she was carrying against her trouser-leg before dropping it down on to the kitchen bench. Followed by a belt of throwing knives, a jewelled dagger, a stone dirk and a serrated mini-hatchet.
Quinn eyed the pile of carelessly discarded razor sharp weaponry and sent up a silent prayer for the safety of her cousin’s future off-spring. There would be no baby proofing in this household. That would require locking away the child’s mother.
Speaking of whom. Hadleigh flashed her a smile, before flinging open the fridge door to swipe up a bottle of water. Despite the blood splatters and smears of dirt, Hadleigh, though pale, looked gorgeous. Of course she would be the first to disagreed that she was beautiful. Her self worth was more dependent upon her skills on the battlefield than what she saw in the bathroom mirror.
Standing at six feet and six inches, Hadleigh was kind of intimidating, with full figured curves, short curly hair the colour of fire lit rubies, clear – always looking for a killing spot - grey eyes, and a wide, full mouth. Habitually she wore comfortable combat ready clothing. And didn’t see any reason to change that, even though she was now in her second trimester. So today’s outfit of a black long-sleeve top, black trousers and steel capped boots was pretty much typical.
“I was beginning to think you had stood me up.”
Hadleigh shook her head and gulped down half the bottle of water in one go, leaning back against the nearest kitchen counter casually. “We found a second nest of Raveen imps and time just kind of got away from me.”
“You look well.”
“Please. I look as big as a house.” Hadleigh placed a hand over her tummy absently.
Quinn bit back a laugh. A house? Hadleigh’s tummy was rounded slightly, sure. But no one looking at her would ever guess she was approaching her fifth month. “But other than that, things are good?”
Hadleigh wrinkled her nose. “The Lump is still messing with my balance. And morning sickness comes and goes in waves at all hours of the day, so I have no idea why they call it morning sickness.” Hadleigh laughed suddenly. “You should have seen me earlier, I threw up all over a Raveen just seconds before I skewered it. Almost worth feeling like this just for that complete look of disgust on its face. So the Lump does occasionally bring something beneficial to the party.”
“Can I get you anything? Tea? Toast?” Quinn offered quickly.
“Nah, I’m fine. Vaughn keeps a box of dry crackers on him these days, so I’m feeling somewhat normal right now.”
“And how’s he adjusting?”
“He’s the one you should be talking to. I promise you, there will be blood if the man doesn’t back the hell off. Every time I turn around he’s there, hovering.”
“He’s just concerned... for you and the baby.”
“He’s waiting for me to stumble and fall on my ass so he can bench me, that’s what he’s doing.”
Quinn hesitated, this was a dangerous topic to bring up. “You know, you are going to have to... curtail the more... active aspects of your job... eventually.”
“See. I don’t get that. Runners still hit the track in their final months.”
“Yes, but they don’t carry razor sharp pointy weapons and run at creatures who have equally large pointy sharp teeth and claws.”
Hadleigh’s jaw clenched in response. Her clear grey eyes narrowing, a flicker of lightning slashing across her pupils. Proving she really was her father’s daughter.
Goddess, her cousin could be stubborn. But fighting about when Hadleigh would cease running around beheading things was not an argument Quinn intended to ever have.
“So... how are things going with the nursery?”
Hadleigh took a sip of water, shrugging. “Fine... I guess.”
Hmm, that sounded suspect. “Which room did you choose to renovate?”
“Umm...?”
“You haven’t even selected a room yet?”
Hadleigh looked peevish. “It’s no big deal. Most of the rooms on the sec
ond floor already have beds and furniture. Slap a rainbow sticker on the wall and it’s done.”
Neither rolling her eyes or laughing would be productive at this stage so Quinn settled on picking up the teapot and pouring herself a second cup of mint tea. Calming and restorative mint. Breathe. Just breathe. “I’m not sure if you are being deliberately stubborn or wilfully ignorant.”
Hadleigh attempted to glare Quinn down, failing that, her shoulders suddenly slumped and the edges of her lips turned down. “It’s a nightmare. You have no idea. Between Vaughn and my mother, the harping never stops. And when I do finally cave and make a decision, it always backfires. I suggested we paint the nursery white. Do you have any idea how many different shades of white there are? Hundreds... maybe thousands. With stupid names like Angel’s Kiss and Fresh Cloud.”
“Maybe the answer is simple.” Quinn pushed the tall pile of catalogues she’d been perusing whilst she waited for her cousin to arrive across the kitchen bench. “Just pick a style you like out of one of these and steal all the ideas.”
Hadleigh wrinkled her nose in dismay as she contemplated the pile. “Mum keeps sending away for more of those things.”
“And I see Lucy has marked quite a few of them. Have you even glanced through one? Maybe it won’t be as painful as you think. Go on, just one.”
Hadleigh huffed a deep sigh, picking up the top catalogue. A clear look of disgust on her face, amusing, given her habit of beheading those she fought against. “Bunnies... yikes.” The next page. “Baby chicks... ugh.” Flicking through the next few pages. “Fish. Deer. Birds. Bees. Butterflies... no, no, and hell no.”
Quinn reached over and grabbed the catalogue away from her cousin. “Okay, scratch that idea. Maybe we just need to make a few simple high level decisions and hire professionals to see them carried through. Plenty of family are specialists in their fields and would love to help. So let’s start with something simple, the location of the nursery... I think the bedroom directly across from your room makes the most sense.”