Page 3 of Concerto of Crows and Cowards

“Just—just don’t die on me,” she said. “I don’t think I could go through it again. I’m not strong enough.”

She squeezed his hand and then he knew she was gone because the emptiness made him cold once more. But he didn’t return to the blackness he’d been mired in. His thoughts were clear and tingles pricked at his fingers and toes.

He believed in a higher power, and if this wasn’t a sign he didn’t know what was. Jade was his light. The person who’d brought him back from the brink of death. And she belonged to him. It could take months or years. He didn’t care. He’d wait patiently and bide his time. A gift like her wasn’t meant to be rushed.

Max felt the heaviness of sleep weigh down on him, but he didn’t fear it this time. It was only sleep. And just before he dropped off, he thanked God for giving him a second chance to love Jade.

Three Months Later…

“Come on, Devlin,” Jade said. “Ten more reps.”

“I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t get out of my face,” Max said. Sweat soaked his skin and his leg was on fire. He was in a pisser of a mood, but nothing he could say or do would budge Jade.

“You can certainly try,” she said, grinning. “But that old guy over there looks like he could take you. You’ve really let yourself go. Too many Cheetos and General Hospital marathons. Eight more reps.”

“I know how many more reps I have,” he panted. “I can count.”

He hated this. Hated that his leg felt as new and uncoordinated as a newborn’s. He hated that he had to use a walker or crutches just to go anywhere. At least he was out of the godforsaken wheelchair, but he wasn’t much better off. He couldn’t drive or go back to work. He was useless.

“I know that look,” she said, getting right into his face. “You’re feeling sorry for yourself again.”

Max hadn’t expected Jade to dedicate herself to seeing him through rehab. They were friends—they’d always been friends—but Donovan had been the glue between them. Or that’s what he’d always thought. Maybe he’d tried to keep that barrier between them because she was definitely in the “off limits” category. But loyalty meant something to Jade, and she’d picked him up from his house and driven him to rehab three days a week for the last two months, and she’d stood in front of him yelling encouragement and taunts in equal measures.

Spending so much time with her was heaven—and hell. She’d slimmed down since Donovan’s death—her tall frame was lean and muscular—and she had an edge to her that looked dangerous. Her dark skin had lost its healthy glow and she’d cut off all of her beautiful dark hair, so it was short as a boy’s and wisped around her face, making her cheekbones more prominent and her face more angular. And her eyes—he’d always been a sucker for those eyes. Brilliant green and a little too lost—a little too sad.

He wanted to hold her—to hug her and take care of her. She’d had much too little of that in her life growing up, and he knew that’s why Donovan had been so protective of her. But she didn’t need anyone to take care of her. And wouldn’t welcome it.

“You’re slacking on me, Devlin. If you’ve got time to daydream then you’re not working hard enough.”

He leaned forward and took her mouth in a hard kiss before she could say another word. When he pulled back, her eyes had that deer-in-the-headlights stare and her mouth had opened on a gasp.

“Good,” he said, nodding. “Looks like I figured out a way to shut you up.”

“Why’d you do that?” she asked. Her face paled and she took a step back, running her hand through her short hair with trembling fingers. He felt like a total cad.

“Sorry. It was self-preservation. I thought you’d prefer a kiss instead of my hands around your throat.”

Her breath shuddered out with a laugh and she relaxed. “I guess I have been pushing you pretty hard. Maybe we should call it a day.”

“I’ll finish the stupid reps, woman. I’m not an invalid.”

Jade rolled her eyes and Max gritted his teeth. He struggled through the last two reps and let the leg weights drop back to the machine with a clank. He felt a little sick and a lot exhausted. “Finished. Kiss my grits, Jax.”

“It’s a good thing I know you so well. Someone else might take offense.”

She wrapped her arm around his waist and helped him stand and stretch a little. He squeezed her shoulder, silently apologizing for his behavior, and said, “Yeah. I guess it’s a good thing. Sorry about the kiss.”

“Your technique needs work, Devlin, but I guess it beats being strangled to death.”

Max stopped her before she could drag him out to the car. His limbs were shaking with exhaustion and he just wanted to lie down, but he needed to get the words out. “I haven’t thanked you for being here for me.” What he didn’t say was that she’d been there for him when even his own family had been absent over the last months.

“That’s what family does, babe.”

He couldn’t have said it better himself. There was the family a person couldn’t choose, those who shared blood and were obligated to love you because of it. And there was the family who didn’t share blood but chose to love you anyway. He much preferred the latter.

Six Months Later…

“Good grief, Devlin,” Jade said, clapping her hands over her eyes. “Your neighbors must love you.”

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