Wind Therapy - A.J. Downey Page 0,84

of the SUV.

“Just fuckin’ great,” she slurred from the back seat. “I suppose you’ll lord this over me forever.”

“Depends,” I said as Maverick started up his bike. “Stop being a bitch and I won’t be tempted to.”

Dahlia barked a bitter laugh and said, “Maybe I misjudged you.”

“You did,” I declared, and pulled around to follow Mav. The territory around here was still unfamiliar when it came to me getting around on my own.

“Maybe I did,” she said, and her voice was strained.

“We can forget about it for now,” I said. “Get through tonight and you can go back to hating me or whatever, but for right now? Let’s get you taken care of…”

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?” I countered.

“Why would you do that for me?”

I sighed and said, “Because that’s what family does… at least that’s what a normal family does.”

She didn’t say anything after that, and I didn’t either. I followed Maverick home, pulled up to the back of the house, and helped him help Dahlia inside and to the couch. We’d lost Tic-Tac somewhere on the high point of the bridge, somewhere over the water, but he caught up quickly. I heard him pull up out back as we got Dahlia settled.

“How is she?” he demanded, coming in through the back door.

“Tired,” I said, getting a cool glass of water at the sink. “Sick.”

“What can I do?” he demanded and the look on his face… It was the same anguished look Maverick had given me when I’d stepped out of the bathroom back at the lodge at the Lake Run.

I softened and wondered for how long Tic-Tac had been in love with Dahlia.

“She’s a mess, maybe get a washcloth from the bathroom? She could probably stand to brush her teeth, she said she threw up.”

“Yeah, good idea. Thanks, Zaychik.”

I snorted a laugh and he paused mid-step.

“What?”

“Just sounds funny when you say it,” I said.

“Yeah, Russian ain’t my first language,” he shot over his shoulder and went for the bathroom.

I went in to where Maverick was crouched by the couch, talking softly with Dahlia, a little annoyed I didn’t know what they were saying, and confused at the same time. What Mav was speaking was clearly one language but what Dahlia was speaking back was another.

“What is that?” I asked, holding down the glass. Maverick took it.

“Russian outta me, Italian out of her,” he said.

“Oh, if you guys don’t need anything else right now, I’m going to go back to bed,” I said.

“Thank you, Zaychik.”

“Of course.” I gave his shoulder a light squeeze and smiled at Dahlia who was looking quite a bit more with it than she had earlier, the effects of whatever wearing off.

“Thank you,” she said, and I gave a nod.

“Truce?”

She nodded, winced, and stopped the motion, echoing back, “Truce.”

“Look at you go.” I smiled at the gentle teasing in Maverick’s tone as I went down the hall, nearly colliding with Tic-Tac as he came out of the bathroom, a dripping washcloth in one hand and a dry towel in the other.

“Goodnight,” I murmured, and he gave me a nod.

“Night, and… um… thanks for doing that. I know you and Dahlia don’t get along, so…”

“I think we might be getting over our differences,” I said gently.

“I hope so,” he said, and I smiled.

“Never a dull moment,” I said lightly, and he chuckled.

“Welcome to the life.”

We smiled at each other one last time and passed in the hall. The phrase like ships in the night, came to my mind, but that was just silly. Didn’t passing like ships in the night mean we would have passed silently, neither knowing the other was there? I think that was what that meant.

I dressed for bed and as I was getting beneath the blankets, the bedroom door opened and Maverick stepped in. He shut the door tightly but quietly behind him and came over, dropping onto the side of the bed, the weight of the world on his shoulders and I cocked my head.

He hung his and looked at me sideways and I could see the fear and the pain radiate from him.

“Oh, baby,” I murmured and got up onto my knees, putting my arms around him. He leaned heavily into me and sighed out, sagging into the curve of my arms and I just held him, kissing the top of his head, providing comfort where I could like he had for me countless times…

“What happened?” I asked and he looked up, searched my face, and spilled. He told me all