Page 68 of Caution to the Wind

Zeus was in the waitin’room when I arrived at the hospital, sippin’ on a thin Styrofoam cup of coffee that looked miniature in his hand. A group of female nurses nearby whispered to each other as they checked out the huge dude in the recognizable leather cut. They were frightened, yeah, but more they were curious, lustfully intrigued. It never failed to amaze me how well trepidation coupled with desire. The moment they noticed me, their titterin’ increased.

When I cocked an eyebrow at Zeus in question, he shrugged and fell into step with me down the hall to Cleo’s room.

“Kodiak called. Said he had a bad feelin’.”

A ripple of apprehension rolled down my spine. I picked up my pace.

“He say why?”

Zeus shrugged, rubbin’ a hand over his beard. “You know The Bear, just said he gotta feelin’.”

Yeah, I knew Kodiak and his feelings. They never signalled anythin’ good.

We reached the open door of Cleo’s room, and the knot of tension in my gut loosened when my gaze locked on Cleo fast asleep in her bed. I had to force breath into my lungs at the sight of her like that even though she was actually lookin’ better every day. No parent seein’ their kid broken up in a hospital bed breathes easy, though. I seriously doubted I ever would again.

I’d let down the two most important women in my life, and it was nearly impossible to live with that.

“Didn’t mean to make you worry,” Kodiak said quietly from his sentry position. “Wasn’t thinkin’ straight. ’Course, I triggered you.”

I shrugged, sweepin’ a hand back over my hair as I sucked in a steadyin’ breath. “No harm. It pays to be cautious.”

My gaze was pulled back to the bed, lookin’ over at the girl who’d ticked Kodiak’s fuckin’ spidey senses. She was thin, pale skin inked in black designs peekin’ out the sleeves of an oversized leather jacket, dark hair like black silk on the rough pillowcase.

Stirred by my gaze, she shifted her head outta Cleo’s neck, uncoverin’ a pretty face I knew all too well even after all this time.

I took an instinctive step back, slammin’ into the door so it banged hard into the wall. The loud noise woke both girls up, twin sets of blinkin’ eyes trained on me, one pale greenish-grey and the other black.

Blood roared in my ears, drownin’ out every other sound. My muscles twitched, clenched so tight they fought the urge to release. Emotions stormed my insides, tearin’ at the seams of old wounds, pullin’ out stitches that should’ve dissolved long ago.

The dark-haired girl recovered first, slowly easin’ out of bed so she didn’t jostle Cleo, and then gainin’ her feet. She was older, eight years older than the last time I saw her, butfuck, she looked the same.

Slippery black hair movin’ around her shoulders like black rain, wide eyes under delicate winged brows. A mouth that looked as pink as pomegranate juice. The only differences were the tattoos visible on her low forearms, another coilin’ from her back over the side of her neck, and the last of a childish plumpness dissolvin’ from her face, leavin’ the ridge of her cheekbones sharp above the faint hollows in her cheeks. A distant part of my brain noticed she’d grown into a real beauty. The knock-you-down-drag-your-heart-straight-outta-your-chest kinda beautiful no red-blooded man could resist.

Mei Zhen Marchand in the fuckin’ flesh.

“Henning,” she said in that smooth, feminine voice, and the tension inside mesnapped.

I was movin’ without thought, eatin’ up the space between us and then haulin’ her into the air by the lapels of her leather jacket, the same one she’d found at a thrift shop in Calgary one day with Cleo and me. I pushed her none-too-gently against the wall and leaned close to snarl into her face, but the scent of her fragrance hit me in the face like a slap.

Cherry blossoms, fresh and sweet.

It threw me back to all the hugs we’d shared, to the memories of sittin’ across from each other at the kitchen table, the scrape of pencil on paper as we sketched, the sound of her laughter mixed with Cleo’s, the vision of the two of them curled together like yin and yang in another hospital bed the day after Kate was killed.

Grief and fury tangled in my gut like fire and gasoline, racin’ up my throat, so when I spoke, the heat of my words made her flinch.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” I growled into her face. “I told you to stay the fuck away from us.”

“Cleo needed me,” she said, totally calm and cool.

Her eyes always looked black from afar, but up close, they were warm and rich as something alive—tilled soil, pine bark, mink.

I snapped my teeth at her, furious with us both. “She needed us both eight years ago, but you fucked off. What she needs now ispeace,and you’ve never known what the hell that is.”

She opened her mouth to say somethin’, but I couldn’t stand one more word from that mouth, so I pressed one hand over it and leaned even closer, my nose brushin’ hers.

“You stay the fuck away from my family, Mei Zhen. If I see you around here again, you’ll learn just how much prison changed me, you understand? I am not your friend, and you sure as fuck don’t want me for an enemy.”

“Dad,” Cleo tried to interject, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the ghost trapped in my hold.