Time to show them what I’m made of.
Chapter Nineteen
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Malakai kept pace with Ballz as they made their way back to the parking lot where all the buses were parked. He’d gotten up before everyone, careful not to wake Brave, and decided to go for a walk. Fine, he didn’t want to keep their relationship a secret, but there were better ways for the guys to find out than seeing him climbing out of Brave’s bunk.
Ballz had spotted him and suggested grabbing breakfast. Malakai figured Jesse told him about the whole anger management thing, so he hadn’t been thrilled to spend time with the man. Therapy over eggs and bacon would fucking suck.
Instead of the conversation being all deep and probing, it had been…normal. They talked about the same random shit they would any other day. No questions about his childhood. No ‘so how does that make you feel?’
He slowed, glancing over at the other man, who couldn’t be more than forty. Ballz still had military written all over him. Buzz cut, muscles, and his black shirt and jeans could pass any inspection. The roadie/bodyguard intimidated crazy fans with his cold stare, but with the band he was laidback.
Hadn’t been hard to talk to until Malakai started worrying about being studied like a bug under a microscope.
“Did Jesse talk to you about me?” Might as well put it out there. They were running out of time.
Ballz’s lips curved slightly. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”
“And?”
“He did.”
“But you haven’t asked me anything.” Malakai shoved his hands into the pocket of his thin leather jacket and scowled. “Shouldn’t you be evaluating me? Digging into my past?”
“Do you want to talk about your past?” Ballz arched a brow when Malakai stared at him. “I’ve always found the most difficult people to work with are the ones who’re forced to get help. If you don’t think you need to work on your issues, nothing I say will make a difference.”
Shoulders hunched, Malakai nodded. “That makes sense. But I know I’m fucked up.”
“Because you like hitting people?”
“I don’t fucking like it.” Malakai ground his teeth. “I don’t fight for the fun of it, I just won’t put up with bullies thinking they’re too big to be taken down.”
“Proving they don’t have that power feels good.” Ballz held up his hands before Malakai could protest. “Not judging, I’ve been there. When you’re finally in the position to stand up to the assholes that looked down on you? To show them you won’t take their shit? It’s amazing.”
“It sounds like you’re telling me I’m not doing anything wrong.” Malakai cocked his head. “I go so crazy I could kill someone. That’s a problem.”
Ballz inclined his head. “I’m glad you agree. Now the question is, who are you fighting when you lose it? Not the person you’ve got down on the ground, who can’t get back up. You mentioned bullies. I’m guessing you’re not a fan.”
Rolling his shoulder, Malakai tipped his head back. “Who is? We’ve all dealt with them at some point.”
“To some extent, absolutely.” Ballz steady gaze speared him, those deep azure eyes digging up shit Malakai hadn’t thought of for years, without even trying. “But most of us either win a battle against them, or within ourselves. You lost. I’m not sure how badly, but you haven’t forgotten. Every time you fight, you’re pulled back to that moment.”
He had lost. Not just a fight. The one he needed to win. If he’d been stronger he could have avoided so much pain.
A steady hand settled on his shoulder. Ballz gave him a level look. “It’s up to you if you want to tell me what happened. You’re not like the soldiers I worked with. I consider you a friend. I cared about every man and woman who came to me, but we never spent more than a few hours together. My job was to recommend the best therapy for them. Most I never saw again.”
Obviously not the case here. Whatever Malakai told him, they’d be traveling together for weeks. Maybe months. Even with the band, Malakai always controlled how much they knew about him. He held back a lot because he liked how things were. He was tough, but looked out for Tate. And Alder when the kid needed him. He didn’t put up with bullshit. He fucked who he wanted and no one cared because that was the lifestyle. He never mentioned family, but he wasn’t the only one. Some topics were off limits for them all.
One night, when the band had been together for a few weeks and he and Brave were still friends, he’d mentioned his brother. He couldn’t remember why he’d done it, but he was in a weird place. Tate was high on something and Malakai and Brave took turns watching over him after he passed out.
Malakai was fucking terrified Tate wouldn’t wake up. He finished half a bottle of vodka just staring at the kid, making sure he was still breathing.
While he puked it all up, Brave rubbed his back and told him Tate would be fine. He’d been hungry, then sleepy. Probably just shared a joint with another band. If it helped Brave would ask around.
Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, Malakai recalled what he’d said to Brave that night. And more. “I was really poor growing up. My father was an accountant, but he couldn’t find work. He’d been fired from some company for doing shady shit, but I never knew the details. I didn’t know him very well. My mother worked two jobs. At a call center during the day, and waiting tables at night. She was amazing. They both died in a car accident when I was ten. Me and my brother were sent to the same foster home. Not a bad place, but they had a lot of kids.”
Here was the talking about his childhood. And Ballz hadn’t even asked.
But he kept going, because the rest didn’t make sense without it.
“School was always rough, but going to a new one in the middle of the year…it was bad. My brother, Eric, was picked on a lot. I tried to protect him, but I was scrawny and just got my ass handed to me.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Eric stopped telling me when some asshole was fucking with him. But he’d made friends, so things seemed okay. Then he started selling drugs.”
He pressed his eyes shut. He’d been so fucking mad at Eric. Seen him hanging with the same kids that used to bully him. When he told Eric to stay away from those fuckers, his brother laughed at him.
“He loved having money to burn. He partied all the time, getting drunk and high. I didn’t know him anymore.” Malakai felt like a hand had wrapped around his throat. Squeezing hard as he recalled saying those very words to Eric. “I’m not sure what happened, but one day he came to me, freaked out, saying he was done. He’d wanted the bullies to stop targeting him, so he’d found a way to be part of their pack. He knew if that changed he’d be right back where he started. I told him not to worry. I had his back.”
After a long silence, Ballz inhaled roughly. “Neither of you had anyone else to go to.”
“No. Our foster parents were taking care of little kids. They couldn’t help us. We were afraid they’d ship us off if we brought any trouble into the house. We weren’t wrong.” He let out a rough laugh. “Eric cut ties with his ‘friends’ and they came after him. I was there, like I’d promised. I fought hard. I wasn’t big, but I went fucking nuts. Hurt a few of them. But there were so many and they got to Eric. By the time the cops showed up… He didn’t die right away. He was in a coma for months. I was shipped off to a group home. They let me visit him. They told me it wasn’t my fault.”
“You didn’t believe them.”
“How could I?” Malakai raked his fingers over his scalp, hating that he could see Eric lying there, so clearly, when he’d managed to keep that image out of his head for so long. “If I’d been stronger I could have stopped them. What the fuck did my promise mean if I was too weak to protect him?”
Folding his arms over his chest, Ballz stared at him. “What do you think it meant?”
Isn’t that obvious? “Absolutely nothing.”
“And as long as you believe that, you’ll never forgive yourself for what happened to him.�
�� Ballz’s tone hardened. “I like giving homework, so here’s yours. I want you to remember when your brother trusted you enough to tell you what he was doing. When he turned to you because he knew you were strong. That you believed he could do better. Try to see the young man who earned that trust.”
Malakai’s brow furrowed. What kind of homework was that? “None of that saved him.”
“And you losing control doesn’t save him.” Ballz shrugged. “You’re not going to fix this overnight, Malakai. And this won’t be easy. But if it helps, you’re not as fucked up as you think you are.”
“Yeah? Tell the guy whose jaw I broke.” Malakai’s stomach twisted. His own actions made him sick. He couldn’t even remember which guy he’d put in the hospital. “Pretty sure he doesn’t feel the same.”
“Oh, you don’t get a free pass on that. You lost it. You hurt someone. Let that sink in.” Ballz’s tone cut deep, as if he wanted Malakai to feel every word. “Every time you get in a fight—there’s no guarantee it won’t happen again. I’m not trying to turn you into a pacifist—you’ll need to face the damage you’ve done. Whether or not you’ve got the high moral ground, you’re hurting someone. And if you don’t stop, you’re no better than the people who killed your brother.”
Fuck. Malakai blinked at Ballz. “You were paid to do this? No offense, but you really suck at it.”
“Do I?” Ballz smirked. “I’ve counseled men who were ready to snap because they’d blown some other guy’s brains out. And they could describe it in detail. Some of them needed to go back out in the field and one moment of doubt could cost them their lives.” His shoulders lifted. “Whole different world. And I won’t blame you if you’d rather talk to someone who’ll prescribe hugs and tell you nice happy things. But in my professional opinion, you don’t need shit sugarcoated.”
Trying hard not to laugh—weird ass reaction—Malakai shot Ballz a slanted smile. “I prefer your approach. Even if it’s tough love.”
Ballz snorted. “You have no idea what ‘tough love’ is, music boy. Now hurry up and get your ass on the bus. Do your fucking homework. And we’ll discuss this again in a couple days.”
A sharp nod and Malakai quickened his pace. Then stopped. This had been good, right? He’d never told anyone the whole story about his brother, and facing the impact gave him a lot to think about.
But he wasn’t ‘fixed’. Anything could happen over the next few days. He glanced back at Ballz. “What if shit goes bad again? What if I—?”
“You’ll either be with the band or one of us bodyguards. I’m not setting you up for failure, kid.” Ballz smirked when Malakai frowned at the ‘kid’ label. “Play nice with the other boys and you won’t get in trouble.”
Malakai’s lips thinned, but he nodded again. He shouldn’t need the reassurance. Someone else watching him to make sure he didn’t snap.
Better that than another chance he’d go too far.
The soft sound of running drew his attention and he turned as Shiori reached his side. Out of breath, with sweat beaded at her temples as if she’d taken a few sprints around the parking lot, wearing a hoodie too thick for the mild temperature.
Waving Ballz ahead, he drew her aside as buses began pulling out of the lot. “Hey, slugger. Getting some exercise in?”
“No, I’m looking for Brave. I got off the bus a few seconds after he did, but I still lost him.” She scowled and looked around again. “Everyone’s ready to go. Where the hell is he?”
“Depends why he took off.” Malakai studied the parking lot, noting only a few of the newer bands remained. Brave didn’t know them, so he wouldn’t have stopped for a long goodbye.
Shiori tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “I introduced him to his nephew. Our nephew. Valor and my sister’s son.”
“Oh...” Malakai tried to process the information, his mind tripping over all the missing details. “Did Valor… When he and your sister were together, was it consensual?”
“What?” Shiori blinked at him. Her lips parted. “Yes! Kyoko loved him. She was young, but… No, I guess there’s no ‘but’. What he did was wrong. I don’t think he knew she was only fifteen.”
“Still a ‘but’, sweetie.” Malakai shook his head. One thing he and Brave had in common—most of the band did, as far as he knew—was sneakily finding out how old someone was before fucking them. Still heartless, but better than ending up with jailbait.
Excuses didn’t matter when you messed with someone too young to give consent. And either way, he’d never been turned on by anyone who looked like a child. Shiori was the youngest woman he’d ever been drawn to, but she had a maturity to her. Her eyes told him she’d experienced life, despite the innocence that lingered because she hadn’t lived his extravagant life.
Latching onto his hand, Shiori started toward the edge of the parking lot. “Doesn’t matter. We have to find him.”
“I need to know how upset he was.” Malakai turned his hand in hers to pull her back to him. “Was he thoughtful? Angry? Being a total asshole?”
“He was…” Shiori’s brow furrowed. She pressed her eyes shut. “Sad I think. He was happy to meet Hiro. To talk to him. But after we hung up he mentioned how much Hiro looks like Valor. And that he couldn’t tell our nephew what a horrible person his father was.”
Not good. If Brave had been pissed or lashing out, Malakai would check the closest bars. A few drinks, hitting on a waitress, and Brave would be his sweet old self again.
When reminders of Valor cut him deep, he needed to be alone. Or do some damage. With everyone else on the bus, the former was more likely.
Brave knew they were leaving soon. He wouldn’t have gone far.
Malakai eyed the trees behind the bus. “Come with me.”
The tightness of Shiori’s fingers laced with his made his pulse erratic. He’d managed to keep their contact friendly. Quick hugs. A pat on the back. A brief press of his lips to her silky soft hair, which carried the fragrance of lilies floating on a vibrant stream.
She tested his control in ways no one else could. Brave came close, but Malakai had clearly failed at keeping his distance from the man.
With Shiori, failure wasn’t an option. The tabloids would paint her as another groupie. She still hadn’t had enough of a chance to prove herself. Hell, even walking with her, holding hands, could ruin her credibility as an independent, up-and-coming face in the fashion industry. Her connection to Danica was an asset.
Being too close to him wasn’t.
“I’m sorry.” He eased his hand from hers, clearing his throat as they reached the edge of the trees. “I should have warned you holding hands could—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Shiori’s jaw ticked. She shot him a narrow look. “This is about Brave, not my fragile career. Where do you think he went?”
He blinked at her, then inclined his head, looking over the tightly wound branches, like he had last night, only now the wall of trees was clear in the light. He walked along the edge of the parking lot and grinned as he found a path a few steps away from the back of the bus.
“This way.” He started forward, glancing back once to make sure Shiori stuck close. She wouldn’t get lost, it was a small expanse of woods between the parking lot and the highway, but even without snow, the frozen earth wasn’t easy to walk on.
Shiori picked her way down the slight slope, widening her strides to cut ahead of him as she caught sight of Brave a few yards away, sitting on a boulder. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around Brave’s neck.
Brave went still, looking up at Malakai uncertainly.
Malakai smirked. “Go ahead and tell her she can’t hug you. I dare you.”
“This isn’t funny.” Shiori eased back, cupping Brave’s cheeks in her hands. “I don’t know everything about Valor, but I can see talking about him isn’t easy. And you don’t have to. Hiro won’t ask many questions.”
“I know.” Brave took her hands in his and lowered them, his lips curving to
one side. “It just hit me how…unfair this will be for him. He deserves better.”
“He has better.”
“You’re right.” Brave inhaled roughly. “I needed a minute to get my head on straight. I didn’t mean for you to worry.”
“You don’t get a say in that. I care about you.” She leaned closer to Brave. “More than is smart.”
Clearing his throat, Malakai stared off into the distance, a thin smile on his lips. No reason for him to be here anymore. “I’ll head to the bus. Tell the band you won’t be long.”
A hand latched onto his wrist. Brave frowned at him. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until you tell me why you slipped out of my bed this morning.”
Shiori’s eyes went wide.
Malakai groaned and tipped his head back, eyes shut.
And Brave let out a soft laugh. “No one is leaving. The three of us need to have a little chat.”
Heat crept up the back of Shiori’s neck as she tried to free her hand and Brave tugged her against his side. She shouldn’t have come. Or, maybe she should have, but without revealing way too much.
She’d been hurting for Brave and needed him to know how she felt.
Even though it wasn’t smart.
Even though nothing could come of it.
She had to tell him.
Apparently, he hadn’t been lonely for long. His whole ‘I’ll wait for you’ speech had been nice. Sweet and romantic enough to have her questioning if she really needed to stay away from him. No one had ever tempted her to veer off course like he did.
But he risked nothing with all his talk about wanting her. One way or another, he’d be fine.
With Malakai. Who he’d hated until recently. Who she was trying very hard to stay friends with while her emotions ran wild. She was allowed to have friends.
Only friends.
While they could have anything they wanted.
“You two should talk. After you let go of me, because I’m getting that urge to hit you again.” She cut out each word like a knife carving ice. She needed to be cold. Detached. Her heart couldn’t absorb any of this.
Diminished (Winter's Wrath Book 2) Page 23