by Vi Lily
She thanked him and then he told her to bring the bandage out into the bedroom and he’d get her wrapped up again.
He almost laughed when she came out of the bathroom, if he’d had it in him to do so. His shorts hit her at the ankles and the shirt that was far too tight on him came to her mid-thigh and was so loose, he could have fit two of her in it.
She walked to where he sat on the bed like she was on a death march. Alex’s lips twitched, surprising him again. For some reason, Ari made him want to smile… and laugh.
When she started to lift her shirt, he told her to turn around so that he could wrap her from behind. She relaxed then.
But he didn’t. In fact, seeing her made him want to tear something — or someone — apart.
Her back was not only riddled with scars, but she had a bruise in the unmistakable shape of a boot next to her spine, which he hadn’t seen when he’d unwrapped the bandage from the front. A tiny thing like her could have been easily paralyzed if that jackass brother of hers had kicked her just a few inches to the left.
Alex had to fight to keep his hands relaxed as he wrapped the bandage around her once again.
The whole time he was plotting her brother’s death.
After Ari was taken care of, Alex carried her back downstairs. He’d told her he wanted her to sleep after her bath, but since she’d napped in the tub, she was wide awake. He let her pick out a movie this time and surprisingly, she chose an old Arnold Schwarzenegger movie.
“You know,” he said after the fifth shoot-out that led to multiple blood splatters, “you didn’t have to pick out an action movie. I can do chick flicks once in a while.”
Ari smirked. “I’m not much into those kinds of movies,” she said with a soft voice. He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“I thought all chicks were. You know, that romance crap and all.”
She laughed at his word choice. “Yeah, well, I don’t believe in it.”
Alex turned toward her. “In what? Romance?”
She nodded. “Well, in love, I mean. I really don’t think it exists.”
Huh. That was surprising to hear coming from a female, but he supposed it wasn’t that shocking, since he knew a little bit about her past. But he didn’t think he’d ever meet anyone as cynical as him.
They watched the movie in silence for a bit, then Alex heard Steve’s door open and he tensed. Dammit.
“Uh, my brother is here,” he told her and watched as her eyes widened. “I’ll introduce you, but I told him to leave you alone. If he ever bothers you, you let me know, okay?”
Even though Ari’s eyes looked like they were about to bug out of her head, she nodded as her eyes glued to the stairs. They both watched as Steve descended and she stiffened, which made him wonder why.
When Steve reached the bottom steps, he paused and stared into the living room at them.
“What?” he barked out a laugh. “Do I have a booger or something?”
At that, Ari laughed softly, while Alex scowled. For one thing, it always irritated him that Steve could laugh and smile. Their father hadn’t totally beaten the humor out of his older brother, reserving most of those lessons solely for Alex. But for another inexplicable reason, he didn’t want Ari finding Steve funny. Or attractive. Or anything.
Steve walked into the room and put out his hand, which Ari took somewhat reluctantly. Alex didn’t blame her; thanks to his drug use, Steve wasn’t nearly as big as him, but he was pretty intimidating, nevertheless.
He wondered if Ari noticed Steve’s nervousness. His preferred drug was cocaine, but when he couldn’t get that, like happened the night before, he always managed to find crack, which made him itchy, hyper and sometimes aggressive.
Thankfully, Steve was at least trying to be nice. Alex just hoped he wasn’t too nice to Ari, or else he’d have to beat his brother until there wasn’t anything charming about him.
“This storm is gonna shut the town down for a few days,” Steve said as he moved to the big living room window. Alex glanced over and saw with some surprise that it was still snowing.
“You two might be getting a snow day,” he said with a grin as he looked at them over his shoulder.
“Yeah, right,” Ari muttered. “We never get snow days. Even with nor’easters like this.”
Alex looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. He’d heard the term before but didn’t know what it meant. He’d never wanted to ask anyone either, because he hated looking stupid.
Steve beat him to it though as he walked back to the sofa. “We ain’t from ‘round here,” he drawled. “What’s a ‘nor’easter’?”
Ari chuckled. “A nor’easter is a storm that blows in from the northeast. They’re worse than the usual storms. More snow, winds.”
Steve nodded while bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Well, good thing we’re all stocked up on food, cuz we might be stuck here for a while. Speaking of, I’ll make dinner.”
Alex rolled his eyes. They were stocked up on food because he bought it. Steve never contributed anything to the bills, but at least he cooked occasionally.
Ari was quiet, which wasn’t unusual, as she’d barely said anything to him since he picked her up at the gas station. But this quiet was different. He could almost feel the tension from her.
“What’s up?” he asked. Normally, he wouldn’t care if someone was upset. For some stupid reason that he didn’t want to think too hard on, he cared what Ari was thinking. Even what she was feeling.
She glanced toward the kitchen. “Uh, your brother is one of my brother’s friends.”
That surprised him. Steve hadn’t said they were friends, just that he knew Devon.
“He’s come to our house a lot,” she continued. “I don’t think he recognized me, do you?”
Alex shook his head. “No. He’s too high all the time to pay much attention.”
She flinched at his answer. Alex assumed it was due to knowing she was in a house with yet another addict.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “Like I said, I warned him away from you.”
ME TOO
Chapter 1
A LEX SURPRISES ME. In a lot of ways. For one, he’s sweet, in a grouchy, gruff way. Something I never would have thought of him. He’s considerate, too. And protective.
And bossy as hell.
I’m too exhausted to fight him on the bossiness. Honestly, I’m so thankful to have a relatively safe place to stay that I don’t want to do or say anything to piss him off. Getting tossed out in the snowstorm would seriously suck.
Plus, I owe him, big time. He’s done more, shown more care, for me in one day than my own family ever did. I’m going to figure out a way to pay him back. Maybe clean the house or take over the meals. I used to cook for Devon and me back when we had money for groceries and I wasn’t too bad at it. I just want to show appreciation and maybe make him want to keep me around for a bit, because so far I’m loving it here.
Alex told me not to worry about anything — not about using water, leaving lights on if I want, cranking the heat up, eating whatever I want. And the best part is that I’m clean. Cleaner than I’ve been in years. Warm, too, which is a real blessing especially now with it storming outside. And I’m finally going to bed with a full tummy.
Seriously, I’ve died and gone to heaven.
He put me in the room where the bathroom was that I bathed in earlier. It’s his room, I’m sure, but when I asked, he just told me not to worry about it, that there were lots of bedrooms. I didn’t bother arguing; frankly, I’m seriously looking forward to sleeping in that huge bed.
Just for grins and giggles, I showered one more time. Two showers and a bath in one day. Like I said, heaven. But I didn’t have a chance to wash my hair and now it’s so clean it’s staticky. Of course, the fact that I couldn’t find any conditioner might have something to do with that.
I have to admit, I’ve been pretty vain all evening, ever since Alex insisted on carrying me back up to the room after dinner.
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After I showered again, I found a new toothbrush, thank God, and, of all things, a blow dryer. I spent a long time wondering why someone with hair cut so short it’s just shy of a crewcut needed one, then dried my hair. And I stared at my reflection. For a long, long time.
My hair is beautiful. I’d forgotten.
Strangely, the neglect hasn’t harmed it at all. In fact, not shampooing it seemed to make it healthier. I don’t have any split ends at all.
It always been a weird color, but everyone always said it was cool. Interesting. Like the color of cinnamon sugar on buttered bread. A strawberry blonde, but not really.
It’s not just my hair that I feel better about. I’ve managed to eat several times today and already feel like I’m filling out, which I know is all in my head. I’m still only able to eat a few bites at a time, but Alex keeps insisting that I “try to eat more” all day. Surprisingly, thanks to his coaxing, I finally finished the burrito he’d made for me — that he’d saved like he said he would — and after two hours, I was able to eat a small plate of the pasta Steve made. I even ate some salad.
All the carbs, and the long, painful day, have taken their toll and I quickly fall asleep. With the light on, just because I can.
The next morning, I wake up to a rumbling stomach, which isn’t unusual. In fact, it’s normal for me to wake to an aching hunger. But this time, it’s even more painful because I can smell the amazingly delicious aroma of frying bacon.
Since I took a shower the night before, I dress in Alex’s sweats again, having slept in his shirt. I do my bathroom business and drag a brush through the tangles. Doc told me to keep the brush he’d given me earlier and I wonder if that was because he didn’t want it back after I used it on my dirty hair.
I then carefully make my way downstairs.
When I walk into the kitchen, I almost backpedal because it isn’t Alex at the stove, but Steve. But he sees me and grins, so it would be really awkward — and chicken — if I turned tail and run at this point, so I shuffle into the room.
He points with the spatula. “Coffee’s ready. You like your eggs scrambled, fried, boiled, omeletized, or what?”
I smile slightly as I make my way to the coffee maker. After the excruciatingly long trip downstairs, I’m in serious pain. Plus, I unwrapped my ribs for the shower last night and couldn’t wrap them back up myself.
“Uh, whatever you’re making will be great, I’m sure,” I tell him as I grab a mug off the counter and grab the pot. Steve must be watching me because he sees me wince and hurries to help me.
“Allow me, milady,” he says, and I chuckle again. Too bad Alex can’t be more lighthearted like his brother. If he were, he’d be just about perfect.
Uh, what?
Dang, I need to corral those thoughts, pronto. No way am I going to allow myself to start having feelings for him. Not those kind of feelings, anyway. Alex is just helping me because I’m ridiculously needy at the moment. I’m sure my need has kicked up some sort of chivalrous instinct locked in the dude’s DNA or something.
I thank Steve and take a sip of the black coffee. He watches me and his eyebrow raises.
“What?”
He smirks then. “Never knew a chick who drinks coffee black. They always want it sweet and creamy. You know, foo-foo.”
I smile slightly at that and just shrug. I like my coffee “foo-foo” too, but coffee itself is such a luxury to me that I’m happy to get it any way it comes.
“Can I help?” I ask, secretly begging him to say “no” since I’m in so much pain. But Steve directs me to man the toaster, and I think I can definitely handle that. He has six slices of bread out and I start inserting the slices.
I notice the big pile of bacon he’s fried too. “You expecting company?” I ask, fearful that’s the case. If it is, I’ll just grab a piece of toast and maybe snag a slice of bacon and head back upstairs.
No way do I want to try to be sociable.
He laughs and points the spatula to the window. “Not with this. Ain’t no one out on the roads today, I’m bettin’.” I glance outside and my eyes widen. He’s right; this early spring storm has brought more snow overnight than we had all winter. And that’s saying a lot.
“Hope they get the roads cleared before tomorrow,” I murmur. “I have to get to school.”
“Not tomorrow, you don’t.” I startle at Alex’s voice and turn too quickly. The pain is excruciating and I drop the slice of toast I’d just pulled from the toaster.
“I’m sorry!” I say and start to bend over to grab it, but the damned pain increases and my vision turns black; I’m going to faint. But before I hit the floor, I’m scooped up into familiar arms. Alex frowns down at me, then gently sets me on a bar stool at the kitchen island. He then runs his hand gently down my back.
“Where’s your wrap?” he asks with a gruff voice. I grimace.
“I, uh, took it off last night. I wanted to wash my hair.” At that, his eyes travel to my head like he’s just noticed my hair for the first time. Both his eyebrows rise, and he actually pulls a lock of it into his hand and examines it.
“It’s a lot lighter than I thought,” he murmurs as he rubs my hand between his fingers. It’s weird that he’s fingering my hair, but it’s sort of sexy too and I stifle a shiver. Mostly because a body shake is gonna hurt like hell and I’m already nauseated.
Steve is watching us, his bacon forgotten. The precious meat is burning, and I’m pretty sure the horrified look on my face alerts him to that fact, because he spins back around and curses. Then he turns and dumps the burned bacon in the trash. Watching that kind of waste makes me even more sick. Just yesterday, I would have pulled it out and eaten it when no one was looking.
But now Alex has assured me there’s more than enough food.
Alex releases my hair and says, “C’mon, we’ll go re-wrap you. I can’t believe you came down the stairs by yourself either,” he scolds, then bends to scoop me back up again but I put a hand on his arm. I feel his muscles tense under my hand and I pull it away quickly. I’m pretty shocked that I just touched him like that. And apparently, he’s shocked too, judging by the look on his face. I can’t tell if he wants to hit me or what. Again, I really don’t think he would, but I don’t know him.
If he does hit me, he’ll kill me. Easily. He’s gotta be twice my weight, plus a good fifty or sixty pounds, and it’s all muscle. I swallow hard at that thought and remind myself that I have to trust him.
For now.
“Can we eat first?” I plead, trying to diffuse the weirdness that just happened between us.
Alex’s jaw tics and his eyes narrow, like he’s coming to a decision that has nothing to do with my request. His eyes search mine and I can tell he wants to argue.
“I’ll just sit here and not move,” I promise, fighting not to roll my eyes. It’s ridiculous that I’m having to ask to do things. To do anything.
But honestly, my life hasn’t been my own in… well, forever. My parents dictated what I did and didn’t do — whenever they happened to remember my existence anyway — and after them, I had Devon tossing me this way and that. Sometimes literally.
Someday, hopefully soon, I’m not going to answer to anyone.
But for now, if Alex wants to be dickish and bossy, I won’t give him much of a fight. I’m so grateful to him for all he’s done that I’ll just suck up what little pride I have and let him get his way.
Again, for now.
Alex finally nods and walks over to get his own coffee. I watch as Steve turns back to the stove to start frying more bacon, but he keeps an eye on Alex and me. I know he has questions that I assume he’ll be asking his brother when I’m not around.
I wonder what Alex is going to tell him.
Steve gets Alex to finish up the toast while I sip at my coffee and try not to drool over the delicious smells. I think about the fact that it’s Sunday morning and in “my old life” it would be been two days since I’d eaten and by this time, I�
��d be nibbling at my cracker stash to tide me over until school lunch on Monday.
My mind wanders to Ogre and I wonder how he’s doing. I feel so bad for him, having to be outside in this bitter cold and without any meat on his bones. My eyes fill with tears as I think about how awful his life is and that it’s likely he’s not going to make it much longer. It’s stupid; he’s just a snarly old dog that doesn’t even belong to me, but he’s really my only friend.
It’s breaking my heart that my life is taking a turn for the better, while his seems to have gotten worse.
Almost as if he senses my mood, Alex turns to look at me. He’s holding a piece of toast and a butter knife in his hand, both forgotten as he frowns my way. I quickly look down into my mug as I sip at my coffee. I don’t want him to see my tears.
But he does.
“What’s the matter?” he asks as he steps toward me, then stops and looks over his shoulder at Steve.
“What did you say to her?” he growls at his brother.
“Nothing!” I tell him before Steve can even respond. “He didn’t say anything bad to me. I’m just worried about Ogre in this weather.” My voice cracks on a sob as I wave at the winter landscape that’s supposed to be showing us blue skies, blooming flowers and greening grass, instead of snowdrifts and giant wet flakes still falling.
Alex sets the toast and the knife on the island and shocks the crap out of me when he gently pulls my head into his chest and strokes my hair.
“We’ll go check on him after breakfast, okay? We can take him some food.”
My heart is pounding for so many different reasons. First, Alex — yes, the freaking Alex Johansen — is comforting me; second, he’s holding me gently against his chest and I can feel his strong heart beating a little too fast, like maybe he’s affected by our closeness too; but third, and biggest of all, he’s willing to take me out in the storm to check on the mangy dog that belongs to someone else.
“Really?” I sniff as I lean back to look up at him. I wince as a pang from my ribs hits me from the movement and he frowns again.
