Page 78 of Broken Chorus

“Why are we even talking about this right now?”

“Because you need to hear it. Think about everything you just said and apply it to the poor guy you refuse to get to know simply because a snowboarding accident left him unable to walk. There’s nothing wrong with his mind. There’s nothing wrong with his hands. And there sure as fuck is nothing wrong with his personality. He’s awesome, which you’d see, if you could ever manage to have a conversation with him.”

“We’ve talked.”

“No. He’s said words and wheeled off and you’ve said words and walked away. That is not a conversation. You two need to talk. You need to be honest with yourself and him about what makes you so nervous when he’s around. I get it. I do. Your grandfather did a number on you, and I wish you’d talk aboutit, if not to me then to someone ‘cause you’ve got some serious issues you’ve been avoiding dealing with for years. That chair scaring you, I know it’s because he hurt you time and time again and probably used it to do some of the damage too, but you can’t look at everyone in one the way you look at him. I know you don’t want to come off like an asshole for saying the wrong thing to Declan or accidentally taking out past trauma on him, but you’ve managed to convince him that no amount of effort is going to get you to include him.”

“I liked it better when we were cuddling and half asleep.”

“I’ll bet.” Hawk hugged him close and kissed his shoulder. “I love you Aaron, even when you make me want to shake some sense into you.”

“I love you too, and I am trying to do better, even when it doesn’t look like it.”

“I know, now go to sleep, morning will be here soon enough, and someone promised the kids I would make French toast.”

“With maraschino cherries and whipped cream, remember? You can’t forget the most important part.”

“Like any of you would let me.”

“Exactly.”

And yet here he was, still stalling, still lurking outside the guest house, only this time he’d paused to watch a racoon ambling down from its tree. Maybe he should head to the garbage shed and make certain it had been secured properly after the trash was taken out. He made it two steps in that direction when something brushed the side of his face. Whirling, he saw nothing but golden light shining through the window and fireflies hovering about, their little lights blinking on and off.

No one was watching. No one would see him chase after them the way he had when he was a kid. At least now he knew that putting them in a glass jar, even with holes punched it the top, would only kill them. The memory that followed, of his Pop-popberating him for crying over that jar of dead bugs, threw him completely out of the moment. He let his hand drop and turned away from thefairy bugsas he used to call them. That’s the precise moment when something brushed the top of his head. This time when he turned, he waved his hands around and felt a rush of air and the faintest brush of something soft against the back of his wrist. Yelping, he caught sight of tiny eyes and big wings coming straight at his face.

Ducking, Aaron scrambled backward, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from the bats. The back of his head hit the door, and one hand struck the wooden frame, drawing a yelp from him as the bats swooped low again.

Of course someone would choose that moment to open the door. How could they not when he was out there making a ton of racket. He toppled backward half in and half out of the doorway, sprawled, one hand hitting the hardwood of the kitchen floor. Leaning back, Aaron saw Cade peering down at him, a bemused expression on his face.

“Do I even want to ask?”

“Probably not,” Aaron grumbled as he worked on sorting himself out. Shit, one of his shoes was a few feet away, laces still untied despite Hawk cautioning him that he was going to trip over the damned things.

“Who is it?” Declan called from inside.

“Just Aaron proving grace still isn’t his strong suit.”

He’d just regained his footing and was dusting off his jeans when Declan appeared in the doorway beside his twin, raking his gaze over Aaron.

“Apparently,” Declan remarked, shaking his head.

“I looked, but there’s nothing out there but a possum ambling along with her babies,” Micah announced as he joined them at the door with a flashlight.

What a fuckin’ comedy of errors. Aaron groaned and smacked a hand to his forehead, trying to figure out how he’d gotten himself into yet another mess.

“Are you drunk?” Declan asked, a harshness to his tone that always seemed to be there when he spoke to Aaron.

“Hell no!” Aaron snapped as he limped over to retrieve his other shoe. He took his time tying the damned thing before he turned around to face the trio that was still watching him from the doorway.

“Have you been lurking around outside here?” Micah asked, eyes narrowing as he studied Aaron’s ruffled appearance.

“I wouldn’t call it lurking.”

“Then what would you call it?” Cade asked. “We thought some critter was trying to get in, which was why Micah was wondering around with a flashlight, trying to figure out if we were about to get eaten.”

“And what the fuck would he have done with just a flashlight if I’d turned out to be a bear or a coyote or some other predator?” Aaron admonished. “You’d have been better off calling up to the house. Hawk has bows locked in a gun safe, we could have at least come down here armed and checked it out.”

“Is it just me, or does he actually sound concerned for our welfare?” Declan asked looking between his twin and Micah.

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