by Amelia Jade
And yet, he’d screwed up. Again.
Couldn’t he for once in his life do something right? The answer seemed to be no. History had told him that no matter how hard he tried, things just didn’t work out for him. His past had example after example of it. Why should the future be any different?
No. Corde wasn’t going to lie down and take it. Finishing his sandwich, he got to his feet and walked over to Kylie, who was busy eating some sort of salad that contained all sorts of weird ingredients. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned meat and potatoes?
“What do you want, Corde?” Her tone was openly defensive, though he suspected she was trying to make it seem hostile.
Was she afraid to talk to him? Had he scared her that badly? Corde sighed.
“You don’t like violence, do you?”
“No, I don’t. I think it’s a silly thing spurred on by far too much testosterone in men.” She paused. “And some women, though we usually just talk shit about one another behind their backs.”
He thought about that before responding. “Some might say that there’s a certain honor in men for at least confronting those they dislike head-on.”
Kylie held back sarcastic laughter. “Right. Oh so noble to bludgeon one another with your fists, or to kill someone, simply because they looked at you wrong.”
He frowned. “I didn’t hurt anyone. Nor did I use my fists. Besides, he came over to me. I was sitting by myself, ignoring everyone. How is it my fault?”
His mate—oh how he longed to be able to reach out and hold her, instead of maintaining a distance he hoped made her safe—looked at him slightly bug eyed, as if wanting to ask if he was stupid.
“You could have talked to him, you know. Addressed his problem.”
Now it was Corde’s turn to dismiss her comments as ridiculous. “He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to establish that he was the boss, that I would follow him and do what he says.” His shoulders rose and fell, the flaps of tattered vest popping out slightly. He glared at them, having forgotten for a while that they were even there.
“No, what he’s doing is expressing his frustration that you’re slacking and not pulling your own weight compared to everyone else. And he has a point,” she said angrily.
Corde sighed. “If we’re going to be together for the next fifty days, then perhaps we should try harder to get along.”
Kylie paused, then shook her head. “Your math is wrong.”
“What? I doubt that. I have five hundred hours of community service. At ten-hour days, that’s fifty days. I doubt that much has changed since I was awakened.”
The way her eyebrows lowered clued him in to his slip of the tongue. Hopefully she would just shrug it off and address his point, but Corde reminded himself to be more careful in the future with how he spoke.
“I see where you went wrong,” she said, scolding him lightly. “You assumed ten-hour days.”
“Nine to seven is what I was told I’d be here for. Was I misinformed?”
“No. But you see, Corde, if you don’t actually work those hours, then you don’t get credited for them.” She gave him that same overly-fake smile again. “At this rate, you’re looking at closer to a hundred days.”
His jaw dropped, and he stood there staring, trying to find the words to say as Kylie walked away.
They were going to punish him even more if he didn’t work like a maniac? That hardly seemed fair at all. He shouldn’t even be here in the first place. Somewhere inside him a voice reminded Corde that if he’d thought ahead, taken a moment to plan, then he wouldn’t be there. Whether he’d meant anything or not by his actions, he’d still committed them. And that meant he had to own up to them.
Forget this.
Sullenly he finished his lunch before picking up his flimsy plastic grabber and plastic bag. He stared at them for a moment in disgust before resuming picking up garbage. Slowly.
***
“Wow, Corde, I’m impressed.”
He looked at his full bag, but didn’t say anything.
“You managed to actually fill the bag. I didn’t think you would.” Kylie scribbled something on the hours sheet he’d handed her, the form that tracked his progress, and shoved it back at him before turning away.
Looking at it he saw the date, her name and signature, and a single number in the hours column.
5.
Furious at her, himself, and everything about this wretched world he now lived in that took away all his honor, nobility and dignity, Corde stormed off, wishing he could go to the inn and drink away his sorrows, revel, get in a few fights and sleep it all off. But noooo, apparently the humans had gone and outlawed that.
If it weren’t for his mate, the world would suck.
She hates you.
The world did suck.
Chapter Four
Kylie
Sometimes Kylie really hated herself and her genius ideas.
Punish Corde, she’d thought. It would be good for him she’d thought. He would get the idea that he couldn’t slack off, she’d thought. But she was pretty sure when she’d mentioned that he would be spending twice as long in her program that his eyes had lit up. His face had remained neutral, but she’d seen past that, into eyes the color of pencil lead, forever sharpened and never dull. There had been a certain joy there, and it made her nervous.
Why should he want to spend more time? It certainly wasn’t because of the work. Which left only one possible alternative. Her. He was excited at the prospect of spending more time with her. Well, near her, since he didn’t actually work alongside her. And that scared her.
It wasn’t that she was upset at the idea of being able to sneak glances at his tight ass or bunched forearms. It had helped make her day better, if she was completely honest. No, what scared her was that she wasn’t sure she could deal with him being around for so long without letting her guard slip a bit. Not a lot, but enough for it to be a mistake.
There was just something about him, something that even when she was chewing him out and docking him half hours made her want to flirt with him.
Which is exactly what he’s probably used to having happen everywhere else he goes. Stay away from the walking mountain of muscle and his fabulously chiseled pecs, and whatever you do, if your shirt gets dirty, do not try to rub the dirt off on his stomach.
Keeping her composure was going to be key. Unless Corde changed his behavior, she was going to be stuck with him for a long time. After all, Kylie wasn’t about to go back on her threat and start granting him full hours for such half-assed work. She wasn’t about to back down, that much was for sure.
Pulling up to the carpool lot that served as the meeting area near the freeway exit, she climbed out of the bright blue vehicle and walked over to the edge of the field. Although they arrived early, the carpool commuters had filled up much of the lot, and she was forced to park on the far side away from the work area. As she did someone heard her coming and stood up.
She gasped when she realized who it was. “No way.”
“Good morning, Kylie,” Corde said jovially, tilting his head in her direction, a delightfully contagious smile on his face. Not stuck on it either; this was genuine. He was happy to see her.
Oh boy.
Resisting him was about to get a lot harder if his attitude had suffered a reversal.
“Okay, where’s angry Corde?” she asked as he leapt to his feet and moved to help unload her car.
Since he’d done next to no work the day before, she let him, standing off to the side while he set everything up and then grabbed his “outfit.” She’d kept the torn vest, knowing they’d probably never get a larger one for him. To her surprise he tied some rope to the two sides, and then slid it on. It looked silly, but now it sat against his back without flopping all over the place.
“I know that I screwed up, and that sometimes you need to own up to that.”
The answer wasn’t at all what she’d expected. The abrupt and complete reversal in h
is behavior had Kylie wary. There was exactly no way her punishment had made him decide to turn his act around. Something else had to have happened after he left. The question was…what? It was the first time in a long time that she’d seen someone, even for a day, act like they were even mildly repentant about their actions. Could it be that maybe her actions and words had had an effect on him? It seemed unlikely, but what else could it have been?
Buoyed by the change, though telling herself not to trust it too completely, she gave him a nod of approval. At that point others started to arrive and she found herself busy with administrative work. For the time Corde was pushed to the side, but somehow she knew it wasn’t to last.
“I’m ready to do some park-cleaning today,” he announced to her as she prepared to hand out assignments.
Kylie smiled. “Unfortunately, the others finished cleaning the field yesterday. Today they’re going to work on the gulley at the side of the highway.”
Corde turned to follow the field as it dipped down into a water runoff ditch. It was partially shaded and a nice breeze was blowing through it. Especially the section underneath the overpass. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head.
“Okay.”
“Oh, you’re not working over there,” she told him. “You’re going to head over to exit ramp, and clean up the shoulders. You and Jose, if he ever shows up.”
She followed his gaze and tried not to smile. The exit ramp was completely exposed to the sun while being fully paved, unlike the ditch. In a very short while it would be excessively hot for anyone standing there.
Shuffling closer to Corde, she spoke quietly so only he could hear. “I like your new attitude, but you got off to a shitty start yesterday. Prove that this isn’t an act.”
Steely eyes reflected no emotion. At last he nodded once. “Very well.” Then before she could stop him he grabbed his bag and clawed picker and headed off.
“Well I’ll be damned,” she said under her breath. Maybe he was savable after all.
Buoyed by his actions and words, she set about telling everyone else what they were doing for the day, and how much she expected to get done. Nobody complained, especially when she had them start on the west side of the overpass and work eastward, so that they would be in shadow most of the day. Today was going to be a good day, she could feel it.
The muffled roar of a piece of crap car with an over-large muffler on it reached her ears, the sound dying off as the car parked. Kylie eyed the dark tinted windows and the faded gray paint job on the two-decade-old car. A second car not quite as obnoxiously loud pulled up next to it, and Jose got out of the passenger seat.
A nervous flutter of fear stabbed her stomach and she felt her fingers drift toward the taser in her bag as more men exited the vehicle. All of her workers were down in the ditch now, and none of them could see her or what was going on.
“Ah, Jose,” she said as he walked toward her. “Good of you to show up. I was just about to mark you absent.”
“Yeah, I’m fucking sure you were, you two-faced cunt.”
Taken aback by his language and the vehemence with which he spoke, Kylie was momentarily speechless. What exactly was she supposed to respond with anyway?
“Got no smart-ass words now, do you bitch? Think you’re all tough and shit, but now you realize you ain’t shit, bitch.”
“You gonna regret the way you disrespected my boy yesterday.”
She speared the new speaker with the iciest of glares, but it didn’t matter. They had strength in numbers, seven of them against just her. Nothing she could do or say would matter. For the first time in her life Kylie was happy she’d bought the taser with prongs instead of the projectile version. She could take two or maybe even three of them down first. That might be enough to cause them to hesitate.
Still, she didn’t want to resort to violence yet. Perhaps she could talk him out of it.
“What’s with the muscle, Jose?” she asked calmly. They were predators, and right now she was their potential prey. If she showed an ounce of fear or weakness they would pounce and it would all be over. Part of her wondered about doing something like this in broad daylight, but then again, Jose and his ilk weren’t exactly known as intellectuals.
“Nothin’,” he spat. “They’re just here to watch the fun while I teach you a lesson about manners.”
“Coming from the one who just called me a cunt and a bitch. Whereas I’ve only used your name.”
Jose glared at her, the tattoos on his forehead wrinkling in a manner she’d find comedic in any other setting. He shrugged his shoulders inside the overly large sweatshirt, the motion bouncing the gold cross dangling from his neck wildly until it settled back into more or less the same place. Baggy jeans that seemed to only be held up by magic completed the ensemble, along with white sneakers.
The guy tried way too hard. If it weren’t for the fact that they were threatening her she would have laughed at his appearance and attitude. Right now though, that would just provoke them even more. She needed to stall, to think of another idea, something that might work.
“You gonna let her talk to you like that ‘Los?” one of the others asked, swaying slightly from side to side. He was younger looking, wearing a white undershirt and black shorts in what she supposed looked “tough,” even if it made him look homeless.
“Keep talking like that, and you’re going to end up in a place far worse than this,” she warned him. “If you touch me, I know who you are, Jose. The police will take you in for a long, long time.”
“You aren’t going to go to the police, bitch. ‘Cause if you do, I’m gonna come back and make sure you regret it. But they won’t be able to tie anything to me. Comprende?”
As he finished speaking Jose’s hand dipped inside his sweatshirt and came back out with a flick, the switchblade popping open. Then he and his crew advanced on her.
“Stop,” she said, reaching into her purse for the taser.
One of the others lifted his shirt to reveal a pistol and shook his head. “Bad idea, bitch. I wouldn’t.”
Although Kylie doubted they would kill her in broad daylight, she didn’t feel like pushing it.
“What’s your plan then, ‘Los?” she said, backing away. “You going to have your way with me, prove how tough you are?”
“Ew.”
Despite everything else that he’d said, the simple word and the way his face contorted as if he wanted to vomit struck the strongest blow. Kylie stepped backward, trying to figure out why the fact that he wasn’t going to rape her made her feel worse. It had to be the casual way he’d reacted, unplanned and genuine. Despite the position of power, Jose still found her so unattractive that he wanted nothing to do with her.
In some weird way that made absolutely no sense, it made her feel more vulnerable than anything else he could have said. Sensing her weakness, they surged forward as a group.
She swallowed nervously, her limbs locking tight with fear and refusing to move as they approached.
“All right boys, let’s show this bitch cunt how worthless she is.”
Something whipped through the space between them so fast she could hear it ripping the air. Her head twisted to try and pick it up. She realized it was a garbage claw-picker at the same moment a thunderous voice interrupted the snickers from the gang of thugs.
“Is there a problem here?”
Chapter Five
Corde
He used the delay caused by the thrown grabber to close the rest of the distance between him, Kylie, Jose, and his thugs.
“No,” Kylie said as he slowed his approach. “There’s no problem here. It’s okay. Jose’s friends were just leaving.”
It was a blatant lie, and an attempt to disarm the situation before it got any worse. Corde admired that, and after the look he’d received for dumping Jose on his ass the day before, decided to work with it. Nonviolence was tough for him. He was a warrior at heart, and right now the seven of them were threatening his ma
te. He wondered if Kylie knew just how much restraint he was exercising by talking first and not leading with his fists. Probably not at all, since she didn’t know he was a dragon—yet—but that didn’t matter. Respecting her wishes was what mattered.
“Ah, all right then. Bring your kid to work day, I like it.”
“Corde,” Kylie said warningly.
“You think this is funny, tough guy?” Jose said, turning his attention to Corde.
“Not really. Seven of you picking on one woman? No, I don’t find anything funny about that at all. Just let it be, Jose, and let’s get back to work.” He gritted his teeth, hating himself for what he was about to say. “Sorry for dumping you on your ass yesterday.” There, he said it.
It wasn’t that Corde was incapable of talking, of resolving his problems. He’d done so on several occasions. Admittedly, they were all when he was severely outnumbered or outclassed and knew it, but still, he had experience doing it, and that was what counted. He could use that now to his advantage to solve this problem without resorting to violence. It would make Kylie proud of him.
Jose stared at him slightly bug-eyed for a moment, before bursting into laughter. “You hear that?” he asked his gang between laughs. “He’s sorry. Big, tall, and a wuss. Apologizing so I don’t beat his ass right here and now.”
Stiffly he cast a look at Kylie. “You still want this solved nonviolently, right?”
“Yes, of course! There’s no need to fight,” she said, giving him a long regard, wondering if he was serious.
“You heard the lady,” Corde said to Jose and his group, who were still laughing. “Let’s do this peacefully. You lot all leave, Jose stays to do his work, and we’ll call it a deal. Nobody gets hurt, okay?”
“If you keep it up, you’re going to get hurt,” Jose hissed, waving his knife in Corde’s direction.
Turning back to Kylie, he clarified the situation. “If they swing at me first, will you hold it against me if I deal with them?”
