Page 18 of Caution to the Wind

Cleo was smart about people, but Mei was plain fuckin’smart.

Kid was the brightest in her year with an early acceptance to some of the top universities in the country.

Beyond that, Mei and me, we got each other.

We always had.

She was tough as nails but built like a slip of a fairy-tale creature. All big, luminous eyes, small red mouth and slim, short build. She could’ve been a model or an actress, at the very least, the most popular girl in her class.

Instead, she was our Rocky.

The girl with chipped black polish on her nails and bruises on her knuckles from almost daily bouts at the martial arts gym downtown. The girl who, since Kate’s death, only wore black as if she was in perpetual mournin’. The girl who had been suspended for bad behaviour three times in the past two years for beatin’ up bullies even though they were young men with probably a head of height and at least fifty pounds on her.

Our fighter.

Somethin’ in my chest constricted watchin’ Mei standin’ alone in that group of happily oblivious students. She didn’t fit in, and she didn’t want to. I got that. She was content bein’ Cleo’s watchdog, but what did that leave her?

I knew she was waitin’ for Cleo to figure out what she wanted to do after high school ’til she made her own decision about university, much to her father’s disappointment. Selfishly, I was glad. If Cleo decided to move away, I’d only be able to see her off knowin’ Mei was there to look out for her.

But I knew it wasn’t healthy. The friendship these two had. They were as codependent as conjoined twins. There was nothin’ but love and kindness between them. Even when puberty started, and boys hit the scene, I’d never seen the two of them fight over anythin’ more significant than which movie to watch. Still, Mei was seventeen years old. She should be out makin’ her own mistakes, kissin’ boys, and focusin’ on her future.

Not focusin’ on the Axelsen family.

From ten yards away, Mei tipped her little chin up at me the way men did to acknowledge a silent communication. I bit off the edge of a grin and tipped mine right back at her.

A second later, she disappeared into the crowd.

“You ready to go home, Glory?” I asked.

Cleo worried her lower lip. “Mei’s got detention again, and her dad’s in Montreal. Principal Rice asked if he could speak with you instead.”

Anger flared in my belly at the mention of Florent Marchand, Mei’s father in name only. At least in my opinion. The bastard never made time for his daughter, even now that his wife and her mother, Daiyu, was diagnosed with stage four brain cancer.

Helplessness fanned the flames of my anger.

I’d prayed so fuckin’ hard the day after Kate died that both Cleo and Mei wouldn’t experience another day of tragedy in their lives, and as per usual, God had ignored me.

Daiyu was dyin’, and Mei was gonna lose another mother.

It was no wonder she was actin’ out. She’d already lost so much; how could she pretend to be anythin’ other than angry with the bad hand she’d been dealt?

“Yeah,” I said gruffly, smoothin’ a hand down her hair before pressin’ a kiss to her forehead. “You gonna wait for me right here?”

“Is it okay if I go shopping with Emma? I can meet you at home in an hour.”

“Emma a good driver?” I asked with narrowed eyes ’cause Emma wasn’t the smartest of Cleo’s friends.

“Dad,” she protested in that way teenagers had of draggin’ out one syllable into fourteen. “She’s fine. Please? I want to have a good dress for prom, and you know how much Mei hates shopping.”

“Okay, fine. But home in one hour,” I allowed.

It was hard not to wrap Cleo in bubble wrap and keep her locked up at home, but I got that she was eighteen and technically an adult with her own autonomy now.

She rewarded me with a megawatt grin and a smackin’ kiss on the cheek before she pushed off my chest to skip away. She’d only gone a few steps when she looked back over her shoulder, brown hair flyin’, looking so much like Kate it made me ache, and called, “Take it easy on Mei, okay?”

I rolled my eyes, which made her laugh, and then I waited ’til she’d ducked into Emma’s idlin’ silver sedan and they’d slowly pulled out of the lot before I headed for the doors to the school.

This wasn’t the first time I’d been called in to speak with Principal Rice ’cause the motherfucker Florent couldn’t be bothered to care for his kid. I didn’t mind lookin’ out for her, but that didn’t mean I cut Florent any slack. He had more money than sense. How could he ever think work was more important than his wife dyin’ in the hospital and his girl strugglin’ to make sense of it all?