Page 82 of Warrior's Cross

Julian didn’t respond. He didn’t even stand until Cameron had moved well past him. As soon as Cameron reached thebathroom door, though, Julian stood and turned away, calling out, “Preston! Get it in gear!”

Cameron closed himself inside the powder room and leaned back against the door, wrapping his arms around his middle and hanging his head. God. He missed the man so, so badly. He hadn’t realized how much until just now.

“Are you coming with me, sir?” Preston’s voice responded from somewhere close. “Well, shake a leg, sir. We’re running behind schedule and it won’t do to be sitting down on the job,” he drawled.

“I swear to God, Preston...” Julian sounded supremely annoyed.

“Oh, I have more, sir,” Preston assured him. “I know how you appreciate variety.” Cameron could hear their footsteps moving away.

“I appreciate silence more,” Julian responded irritably before they were out of earshot.

After they were gone, Cameron could still hear Julian’s voice echoing in his head, this time speaking tender words he’d once spoken; could still smell him, even if it was just his imagination. And all his reasons for driving Julian away seemed all of a sudden so useless and silly. Closing his eyes, Cameron sighed shakily, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t made a mistake.

Blake watched through the windows as Julian stepped down from the moving van and made certain his booted foot was on the ground before he put any weight on it. He’d tripped and fallen so many times in the past week that Blake had lost count. He almost felt sorry for his friend, but he knew Julian had dealt with worse, and it was funny watching him struggle with theheavy walking boot. Blake could really use the amusement right now.

Over the course of the day, they’d made several trips to the safehouse Julian had found for Blake, but because they were trying to keep the amount of exposure to a minimum, none of the volunteers accompanied them to the new house, and Julian and Preston unloaded the majority of the heavy furniture by themselves.

All of the hard labor made both of the men slightly cranky.

Actually, it had made them both downright bitchy, and Blake was careful not to laugh at them every time they returned from a trip, bickering with each other in the most polite of ways. It was hard to respond to an insult that had “sir” tacked onto the end, which he knew frustrated Julian to no end.

They were back from their last run, accompanied by another order of food to hand out to the volunteers before they were taken home. The volunteers scattered on the front lawn with their meals, enjoying the mellow weather and in some cases dozing off.

Blake watched Julian and Preston as they approached the house, bypassing the others. He winced as he saw Cameron glance at Julian but just as quickly look away. Julian didn’t return the glance, keeping his head down as he made sure of his fatigued steps.

Preston walked ahead of Julian, carrying three McDonald’s bags as Julian limped behind him. He appeared to be muttering to himself, but then Preston would mutter back to him. Blake lifted the window to hear what they were saying.

“I’m going to kill Blake when this is over,” Julian was telling Preston through gritted teeth.

“You should have done that before we moved everything, sir,” Preston responded without missing a beat. “It would have saved us quite a lot of trouble.”

“Smartass,” Julian muttered under his breath. “And stop calling me sir!”

“Of course, sir,” Preston responded with an obvious smile as he walked through the open front door.

“Are you two still bitching?” Blake called out as he moved away from the window. “Bring me my dinner!”

Julian caught up to Preston and dug into one of the bags as the other man held it patiently and tried not to smirk. He pulled out a cheeseburger wrapped in yellow paper, walked into the room where Blake was working, and chucked the burger at him.

Luckily, Blake looked up just in time, and he caught the burger against his chest. “Thank you, Julian,” he drew out as he sat down on a box. “Feeling any better?” he asked pointedly.

“Do I look like I’m feeling better?” Julian demanded. “Do Iseemto be in a better mood?” he asked sarcastically. “Preston!” he shouted suddenly. “Give me my fucking nuggets,” he demanded as he turned, only to find Preston standing behind him with a box of chicken in his hand. “Goddamn it,” Julian offered before snatching the box and stalking out of the room with his food.

“I’ll just be taking the others home then, sir,” Preston said to him, and Blake knew the man was trying desperately not to laugh. Julian didn’t respond other than to growl something unsavory as he disappeared deeper into the house.

Blake sighed. He knew exactly what was making it so bad. “I didn’t know, Preston,” he murmured, referring to the young man standing outside with the rest of his remaining volunteer moving company.

“How could you, sir?” Preston asked with a cock of his head.

“I’d have thought that hewould have told me...” Blake’s voice rose toward the end of the sentence. He stopped and shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. The day’s done, and they both suffered, from what I saw. Spilled milk. Go ahead, Preston. And thanks for your help.”

Preston remained where he was, still managing to look oddly dignified as he held several bags of fast food in his arms. He looked like he was about to say something, but finally he nodded in response and turned to leave.

“Preston?” Blake asked, having caught the other man’s hesitation.

“Yes, sir?” Preston answered as he turned obediently.

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