Diminished (Winter's Wrath Book 2)

by Bianca Sommerland

  Everyone was staring at him again, only this time like he’d lost his fucking mind.

  The eyes that Alder loved so much he’d written a song about them, a unique shade of green that shone like the Northern lights, held his for what seemed like forever. Then all the anger seemed to leave Danica. She crouched beside him and took his hand.

  “You can’t mean it. Brave…” Danica sighed. “If you care about her, you will keep things professional. She’s too new to this lifestyle to take the extra scrutiny a relationship with you would bring. I know it’s not fair. I got to be with Alder. But I was established.”

  “She will be too.” Brave truly believed that. No one could watch Shiori on stage and not know she was meant for great things. “You can see it.”

  “I can.” Danica gave him a sad smile. “And if she’s what’s making you stupid, this will be even harder. But if there’s anything worth having you’ll wait. Let her shine on her own. Once everyone sees what we do, go for it. If you can do that I’ll be cheering you on from the sidelines.”

  Fuck, why did his brother have to get with such a smart chick? None of the guys would have said shit.

  All right, Malakai had, but thankfully, he wasn’t here.

  Without Danica’s warning, Brave might have tried to earn Shiori’s forgiveness. Figured out how to be the kind of man she needed. Found out what was so great about being with someone who did more than make his dick hard.

  Someone who drew out his protective instincts—he’d have to work on those, apparently, caveman wasn’t sexy—and made him think and feel. Someone he wanted to hold. Wanted to make smile and laugh.

  He could have done all that.

  And it would have ruined her.

  Even if he learned how to be the man she deserved, being with him would affect her career. Which wasn’t fair.

  To her.

  “So what do I do? Make sure she stays pissed at me? That she hates me?” The pressure on his chest was going to do serious damage. The idea of Shiori hating him made it hard to breathe.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “No. Either way, you need to apologize.” Danica patted his hand and straightened. “She’s tough. If she needs to talk, Ballz is there, and we’ll be heading back soon. Give her space tonight. Tomorrow, take her aside. Be a friend. Then keep being a friend.”

  “Got it.” He could do that. Maybe. “But I’m a shitty friend.”

  “Hear, hear!” Tate raised his beer, breaking the tension with a laugh. “Sorry, I’m not as think as you drunk I am. This is sad. I like Shiori. I like you. You’re cute together.”

  “Not helpful, Tate.” Alder reached over and snatched Tate’s beer. “You’ve had enough.”

  “Probably.” Tate scooted over, laying on the bench and resting his head on Alder’s lap. He was doing that a lot lately. “Wake me up when it’s time to go.”

  Ignoring them, Danica rose and gave Brave a hug. Which he needed more than he cared to admit.

  “We good?” She smoothed his hair back, looking concerned. “I’m sorry I freaked.”

  Brave let out a dry laugh. “You had every reason to. I’m happy you didn’t hit me. Had my fill of that lately.”

  Brushing her fingers under the gash on his cheek, she nodded. “Yes, you have.”

  The silence around the table made him uncomfortable. He grabbed his beer and pulled Danica over to sit beside him, smirking when Alder sat up and scowled at him.

  “So, bro. When you gonna marry this chick and make her my sister?” Brave snorted as Alder blinked at him. “What? You’re not letting Jesse do it, are you?”

  “No, but…” Alder cleared his throat. “Actually, I planned on asking her grandfather first.” He turned to Danica. “I’m not sure of your traditions, but—”

  “He’ll love that.” Danica’s face lit up. She hopped out of the booth and skidded over to Alder, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I didn’t know you’d even considered—”

  “We haven’t had time to—”

  “Does Jesse know?”

  “Not yet.”

  Their conversation continued, ending only when they started making out. Brave finished his beer while watching the dancers, not really seeing them. Exhaustion seeped into his bones and the heaviness still hadn’t left. Instead, his chest felt like it was adapting to that pressure. Like he’d have to go on with his heart beating dully in the tight confines.

  Since his brother was occupied, and Tate was sleeping, he didn’t see the point in sticking around. Spotting Skull, he went over to see if he could get a ride.

  The older man shook his head. “Tank just prevented Connor from getting in a fight in the alley. That boy is out of control.”

  “Need me to talk to him?”

  “Naw. I’ll deal with him.” Skull eyed him skeptically. “You’re not going back to the bus, are you?”

  Did everyone know he’d fucked up?

  Probably.

  “I won’t say a word to her. I just don’t want to be here.” Brave shoved his hands in his pockets. “How about I take a walk?”

  Skull shook his head. “Not alone.”

  “I’ll go with him.” A heavy hand settled on his shoulder. Malakai. With the hood to his leather jacket up, giving him a smile he couldn’t read. “We have a lot to discuss.”

  “Fair enough.” Skull took off like everything was settled.

  He clearly wasn’t that worried about Brave’s safety.

  Heads down, they made their way through the crowd, careful to avoid the many fans wearing band T-shirts. That they made it outside without being jumped was nothing short of a miracle. Typically, the bands either stuck around until the end or had security clearing the path.

  His new hairdo might have helped a little. People knew him by his hair and his face. Sometimes his boots.

  Regardless, he knew his fans well enough to keep going once they hit the sidewalk. Without the crowd, it would be easier for someone to spot him.

  They both slowed as they reached the end of the third block from the club.

  Malakai remained silent.

  Brave glanced over at him. “You got something to say to me?”

  Nodding, Malakai shoved his hood back and stopped at the edge of an alley between two brick buildings. He folded his arms over his chest, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Shiori left because of you.”

  Not a question, but Brave answered anyway. “Yes.”

  “We’ve had this conversation.”

  “Have we?” Brave shook his head. “Because I recall you telling me to stay away from her. Not to use her. And I fucking did that.” His pulse quickened as he met Malakai’s hard, black ones. The color he’d noticed before seemed to have disappeared. “I did that, and I’ll continue to do that. I don’t need to be told again how I feel doesn’t matter. I fucking get it.”

  “How you feel?” Malakai let out a bitter laugh. “Do you? Honestly, sometimes I wonder.”

  Grabbing the front of Malakai’s jacket, Brave shoved him back into the brick wall. He couldn’t fucking do this shit. Not now. Not with Malakai.

  “Yes, I feel. I feel like I’m so fucking toxic I’ll never have anything good. And I don’t deserve to.” He shoved against Malakai’s shoulders, anger and loss twisting inside him so tight he couldn’t breathe. “I’ve lost friends. Family. And just when I start to get some of that back…”

  Malakai lowered his arms to his sides, watching him. “What?”

  “I don’t know. I fuck up again. Or life happens.” He raked his fingers through his hair and paced away from the other man. “I think I’m going fucking insane. I hardly know her, but…there’s something there.”

  “I know.”

  Brave stopped pacing. Lifted his head. “Say again?”

  “There is something. Between you.” Malakai leaned against the wall and sighed. “I really wish there wasn’t. And I don’t think it will be long before she’s right where you are unless you close off everything you’re feel
ing. You let her go, which is the most unselfish thing I’ve ever seen you do. The schedule might be tight, but you’ve found ways around that before. It would have been easy to try getting her out of your system with one last seduction.”

  “I can still do that.” A lie. One that might save his sanity.

  “But you won’t.”

  “No. I won’t.” He really hated this whole being good thing. So far, it fucking sucked. “Few months ago I would have given you a different answer.”

  Malakai chuckled. “You wouldn’t have given me an answer at all. We weren’t on speaking terms.”

  “Dude, we talked.” Sure, there had been tension between them. That animosity they’d held on to forever, but at least they’d been civil. Or at least civilish. “I ask if you want coffee. You say yes. Good times.”

  “Yeah, was fucking awesome.” Malakai rolled his eyes. “I’m glad we still have that.”

  For some strange reason, Brave got the impression Malakai hadn’t come with him only to talk about Shiori. There was some regret in his tone. He was acting all relaxed, but beneath the cool front was… Hell, he wasn’t sure.

  A few months ago he wouldn’t have cared about that either. He’d been closed down for so long, conversations like this hadn’t happened with anyone. The closest he’d come was harping on his brother about his health and safety, which got him nowhere. Aside from that, he did his job. Tried to write music. Found the well of ideas empty.

  The life he’d lived before might have given him a few defiant, cocky, seductive songs, but he wasn’t that man anymore. He had to find himself again to hear the music. When he was passionate, about pretty much anything, the lyrics came effortlessly.

  Shiori had awakened some of that passion, but he had to shut it down.

  Only one other had reached that side of him. The raw emotions he couldn’t control. That he didn’t expect.

  Which had gotten the label of hatred for a very long time.

  What the hell is it now?

  He shook his head. This was Malakai. Best friend to worst enemy back to sorta friend. A little confusing, but Brave wasn’t used to having friends. He wasn’t an easy guy to like.

  And claiming Malakai even ‘liked’ him was a bit of a stretch. Tolerated was an improvement.

  A soft chuckle came from Malakai, drawing his attention to the other man’s slanted smile. Malakai jutted his chin at Brave. “What’s on your mind, Draven? Why so serious?”

  “Keep it up and I’m going to start thinking you’re a closet comicbook geek, Grimm.” Brave inhaled slowly, surprised to find that pressure on his chest had eased slightly. Being near Malakai had a strange effect on him. Steadying at times. Then like he could tilt Brave’s whole world off its axis.

  “I am, but don’t tell anyone.” Malakai lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw. “Look, what happened on stage—”

  “Was nothing. I get it.” Brave’s tone was sharper than he’d intended, but he didn’t need Malakai pointing out the facts. Brave had figured them out himself seconds after his mind and body got all wrapped up in how good Malakai’s touch felt. “Fucking believable though. You should consider acting if you ever get sick of playing guitar.”

  Malakai huffed out a laugh. “You thought I was acting?”

  The pipe Malakai had nailed him with earlier had less impact than his question. What the hell was the man saying?

  Staring off into the distance, Malakai continued. “You make a good enemy. Hating you? Fuck, that made sense. Whenever that hatred began to fade, you’d be thoughtless, or cruel, or selfish. Everything between us was black and white.”

  “What changed?”

  “You did. I didn’t notice for the longest time. I had such a clear picture of who you were in my head.” Malakai’s lips curved slightly. “The man I saw wasn’t you. Not really. He was a man surrounded by walls built out of fear.”

  “I’m not fucking afraid.” Rage bared its venomous teeth, the poison an antidote to the uncertainty within. Brave wasn’t weak, wasn’t the man Malakai was painting him out to be.

  The type of man Malakai could accept, could care about. If Brave was damaged, he needed to be fixed. One of Grimm’s favorite hobbies.

  “You’re fucking terrified.” Malakai shrugged. “But whatever. Keep playing tough. You won’t hear a damn thing I’m saying to you.”

  Sucking his teeth, Brave glared at the other man. “I hear what you’re saying.”

  “Really? So you still think there’s nothing?” Malakai hooked his thumbs to his belt loops, calm and irritating as fuck. “On stage, that wasn’t an act.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “What do you want it to mean?”

  Screw anyone who thought chicks were complicated. This man was like a jigsaw puzzle of code written in hieroglyphics. And he wouldn’t give Brave a clue how to figure him out.

  “Don’t play games with me, Malakai.” This little chat wasn’t getting them anywhere. Brave was fucking done. If Malakai wanted to challenge him, Brave would accept. On his own terms. With one last warning. “You’ll lose.”

  Malakai nodded slowly. “Maybe I would. Maybe I will.”

  Enough. Brave let the barrier between them fall, surrendering to his baser instincts. Instincts chained by all the promises he’d made. His vows to be a better man.

  Being bad could be fucking fun.

  He cut across the short distance between them, curving his hand around the side of Malakai’s neck. He brought their lips close enough to touch and met the other man’s dark eyes.

  A low growl escaped Malakai as he latched onto Brave’s shoulder, pulling hard and slanting his lips over Brave’s in a violent, bruising kiss. A kiss that fit all the hatred simmering between them for years. His painful grip enhanced the blazing heat of his mouth, boiling over as his tongue touched Brave’s.

  Groaning, Brave pressed against him, trying to regain control as he fucked Malakai’s mouth with his own tongue. The taste of him was addictive, like darkness and passion had a flavor, rich and heady, with a bite of cold. Instead of melting the ice between them, passion sank the sharp edge deep, piercing through the last layer of resistance.

  The straps of his jacket loosened and he tipped his head back as Malakai brought his lips to his throat. Fingers roughened from playing guitar for years brushed the bared skin of his chest and goosebumps rose all over. Needing more, Brave yanked open the rest of the straps. Grunted as Malakai turned them so Brave’s back was against the wall.

  Suddenly, Malakai drew away. He smirked, holding a hand up before Brave could protest. “Not here.”

  Grabbing Brave’s hand, Malakai led him deep into the alley, which was dark and quiet in the dead of night. They stopped under black metal emergency stairs, well out of sight. Brave’s back hit the wall and Malakai claimed his mouth, tearing open the buttons of the black shirt he’d worn under his jacket. Always so contained, the man’s kiss was like they’d both strapped into a racecar, Malakai behind the wheel, going 0-60 in 2.4.

  While Brave had been expecting Driving Miss Daisy.

  Why? He wasn’t sure. With others, Malakai treated sex like a basic necessity. The hint of emotion made Brave wonder if he’d be cautious, but he already had Brave’s belt undone. His teeth grazed over a tight nipple as he gripped Brave’s swollen dick and questioning motives required actual brain function. Which was gone.

  “Fuck, Malakai.” His whole body jerked as Malakai spit in his palm, using it to stroke his dick in his slick grip. His balls tightened and he inhaled as he fought the rising pressure. “Don’t stop.”

  “I didn’t plan to.” Malakai continued lazily stroking Brave’s dick as he braced his forearm on the wall by his head. “I want to fuck you so hard you’ll keep your stupid mouth shut for a little while. But this will do for now.”

  “You’re doing this to shut me up?” Brave ground his teeth as Malakai’s grip tightened, moving over him faster. “God damn it, I—”

  “Can’t scare me with sex.
This?” Malakai flicked his tongue over Brave’s bottom lip. “This is fucking nothing. You’re a good looking man. I’d have fucked you already if I didn’t hate you.” He kissed Brave again, slowly this time, drawing it out as he ran his hand up over the head of Brave’s cock. The pleasure, mixed with all the promise behind that kiss, brought the sensation to a level not limited to touch.

  Pulse pounding, Brave panted against Malakai’s lips, eyes pressed shut as a violent shudder passed over him.

  “Do you feel me, Brave?” Malakai brought his lips to Brave’s throat, his voice soft. “I told you what happened on stage wasn’t an act. I felt you. More than hate or lust. Maybe a combination. And something else.”

  “What else?” Brave hoped Malakai had a name for ‘it’, because he didn’t. Not yet. “What are we fucking doing, Grimm?”

  With a deep laugh, Malakai kissed him again. “Some crazy shit. You having fun yet?”

  “Oh yeah.” He grinned, feeling lightheaded. The pressure had built up to the point the throbbing of his dick matched the flashes of red behind his closed lids. “I’m gonna come.”

  “No. You’re not.” Malakai released him, firmly holding his shoulders when he swayed. “Easy there.”

  As the cold wrapped around him, Brave’s lips parted. The painful throb in his dick hadn’t subsided without stimulation. If anything, it got worse. The mutual desire had been an illusion. Abrupt rejection hurt like hell.

  What the fuck is this? Revenge?

  He’d thought Malakai was telling him they had…fuck, a connection. Potential for more. Was he messing with him? He glared at the other man.

  “Don’t look at me like that. Patience is a virtue.” Malakai stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t fuck you in an alley. Maybe behind the bus. We’ll see.”

  We’ll see? Brave snarled through his teeth, shoving his dick—a little too hard, which pissed him off more—back in his jeans and quickly straightened his jacket. “You must be on some good drugs if you think I’ll let you touch me again.”