One Year: Sons of Solomon, #1

Part I

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Part II

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Connect with M.A. Stone

Copyright 2018 M.A. Stone

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author or publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author at: sassyink@gmail.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead are coincidental.

WHEN MY SISTERS were six and eight and I was eleven, we’d gotten a Slip and Slide as a gift. We’d had it for all a week. One week, that’s it. My friend Edgar had given it to us and we practically flew into the massive yard behind our house to set it up. The blue and yellow shiny plastic gleamed in the sun as my youngest sister, Aria, sprayed it with water from the hose attached to the side of the house; making rainbows in the air around it. My other sister, Aura, danced in the dampening grass next to it, making Edgar laugh. Edgar and I ran and leapt onto it, sliding all the way down the length of the warm, wet plastic. My sisters squealed as they followed close behind. We spent the whole afternoon on that crazy, plastic summertime toy, until our teeth chattered and our fingers were wrinkled and pruned. We huddled on my front porch afterward, wrapped in fluffy towels, our bodies tired but our hearts happy. Every day, as soon as our father left for work, we’d set it up, call Edgar, and spend the day running, jumping and sliding in our yard. Then she came home from her trip to visit her friends; our stepmother. She stood in the yard watching us play, a weird expression on her face. We didn’t run to her or say ‘hello’; an odd chill settled into our bones, despite the blisteringly hot sun. We didn’t go over to give her a perfunctory hug; she didn’t like us to touch her. Aria, ever the optimist, gave her a small wave; causing our stepmother to turn and walk into the house, closing the sliding glass door behind her. Aura and I looked at one another and shrugged. We continued playing until Edgar’s mom called him in for dinner. Unhooking the hose, we rolled up the plastic and put it in the three-car garage attached to our house, beside my Dad’s Harley.

The next morning, I woke up to hear Aria crying and to see Aura’s pissed off, angry face; something that was the norm since my father married Ashton. Running out of my bedroom, I saw Aria standing on the front lawn surrounded by millions of pieces of blue and yellow plastic.

"What in the hell happened?" I whispered. Aria shook her head, her tiny frame shaking with her tears. Her red curls were stuck to one side of her face and there were spots of color beneath her freckled cheeks.

Shh, don’t let her hear you cuss! warned Aria as she fought back tears. Aura stood next to her, not saying a word. Her large brown eyes were brimming with tears and she shook so hard with anger, her red curls bounced.

"What happened Aura?" I asked. She looked around at all the pieces in the grass, her eyes lost.

"She cut it up, Gridley," whispered Aria in horror. Her voice was soft and sad, making my chest hurt.

"The Slip and Slide?" I asked in disbelief. Aria nodded.

Yeah, she whispered. I looked toward the house and saw our stepmother standing in the bay window, looking out at us. She was dressed to the nines, as my Grandma would say, and her pale blonde hair was perfect. She had a smirk on her lips as she stared at me coldly. She studied us and then turned away from the window.

Come on girls, let’s get this cleaned up and go over to Edgar’s, I muttered as I walked to the garage. I grabbed the trash bags Dad used for leaves and walked back out to my sisters.

6 Years Later- 2002

SHE’S GOING TO kill us! screeched Aura as the three of us wheeled our bikes down the street. Aria nodded and chewed on her bottom lip. Aura had just turned 14 that day and we’d all decided to meet a few friends at the beach to celebrate. Our dad wasn’t coming home until late, he was at a conference and our stepmother certainly wasn’t going to celebrate Aura’s birthday; she never celebrated any of ours; unless Dad was around.

"She’s not going to do anything. Besides, Dad should be home by now. He’ll understand. We were with Edgar and some kids from school. Edgar’s mom will cover for us if we need her to," I replied. Aria nodded, not saying anything. She tended to get quiet when she was nervous or upset. And she was always quiet around our stepmother.

Yeah I guess you’re right, Gridley, muttered Aura. She flipped her long auburn braid over her left shoulder. Aria was still chewing on her bottom lip. I brushed my own long, black curly hair off my forehead; a nervous gesture.

Calm down, Aria. I got this, I told her with complete confidence. My stepmother didn’t scare me, she never really had. The three of us knew to stay away from her when our dad wasn’t home or at least we tried to. She’d seemed alright when she first married Dad. But then she gave Aria and Aura crap about their red hair and numerous times she’d spouted off that we were all ‘evil’. Stuff like that. I just ignored her. She got to Aria the most. Aria was the youngest, the smallest and the most sensitive. Our stepmother seemed to be even more out of it ever since she’d given birth to our little brother, Coven, a year ago.

"Besides, if Dad’s home she’s always on her best behavior. She even plays with Coven when Dad’s there," Aura said, referring to our little brother.

Maybe, muttered Aria. Our father was a pediatric cardiologist, one of the best in the country. He worked long, crazy hours but when he wasn’t working, he was an awesome dad.

Look! Dad’s car’s in the driveway! said Aria happily. She smiled, which in turn made me smile. Looking up, my smile faded and I stopped suddenly, causing Aura to slam into my back.

Hey! she protested, giving my arm a shove. I put my hand up and shushed her. My dad’s car was in the driveway alright, but it was still running. The driver’s side door was open, and I could hear music playing. My heart thudded in my chest and I felt my mouth go dry.

Something’s not right, I told my sisters. They nodded slowly.

Should . . . should we go to Edgar’s? asked Aria in a whisper as she pushed her glasses up on her nose and looked at me worriedly.

N-No. I’ll go check it out. You two stay here. If I’m not back in five minutes, run to Edgar’s and have his mom call the police. Got it? I asked. My heart was racing. Aura looked like she was about to argue with me, but then nodded. Aria nodded as well. Placing my bike on its side in the driveway, I noticed the front inside door was open, but the glass exterior door was closed. Creeping to the door, I peered inside the house. A heavy, ornate floor lamp next to the big picture window that faced the street, was on its side, illuminating the large living room in an eerie manner. Holding my breath, I slowly opened the door and crept inside, shutting it soundlessly behind me. I let out my breath slowly and righted a lamp on one of the side tables near the couch. The entire living room was trashed and that’s putting it mildly. My father’s leather recliner was on its side, a kid’s juice cup on the hardwood floor beside it; leaking out orange colored liquid. The large television was smashed and the glass coffee table was pushed up against one of the leather couches. Shards of glass covered the hardwood floors, making a crunching sound no matter how quiet I tried to be.

What the . . ., I whispered to myself. Shaking my head, I grabbed an umbrella from the coatrack beside the door and tip toed to the kitchen, avoiding the squeaky spot in the floor. I’d snuck out enough times to know where they were. The kitchen was a mess of broken dishes and glass on every surface. The kitchen table was overturned and one of the four chairs were splintered and broken; pieces of it lying in front of the stove. What in the hell had happened here? My head snapped up as I heard a soft whimper from the hallway, off the kitchen. I tiptoed as fast as my Airwalks could carry me down the hall. The bathroom door was closed, as were the doors to mine and the girls’ bedroom. I noticed the long runner in the hallway had marks all over it, just like the walls, but it was too dark for me to make out what they were. I flicked the light switch, but nothing happened. Creeping along in the long, dark hallway, I felt like someone was watching me and it made my skin crawl. The last room at the end of the hall was my little brother, Coven’s room. Hearing the whimper again, I flung open the bedroom door. My eyes couldn’t process what I was looking at. The dinosaur lamp beside his crib was on, bathing the room in a soft glow. Coven was in his crib, but he was lying face down, which was odd for him. He was always curled up with my old teddy bear, on his side, with a thumb in his mouth. Slowly, I moved toward the bed and startled as the carpet made a squishing sound. Looking down, I whimpered, like a child. The carpet was soaked in blood. Coven whimpered in the crib, his blonde hair matted to his head.

Coven? I whispered, touching his skin. His eyes opened and he smiled weakly.

Grrrr? he whispered in his soft voice, using his name for me. There was so much blood that his dinosaur pajamas were soaked; making them look black. I felt sick in my stomach and fought back tears as I looked down at him.

Gridley…what is...Oh my god! screeched Aura, running into the bedroom from the hallway, Aria at her heels. She saw me cradling Coven and her face paled. I cringed at the sound of their feet on the wet carpeting.

"Aura! Listen to me! Go to Edgar’s! Run . . . don’t walk. Get there!" I yelled. They were both gone before I could blink. Looking down at my little brother, I closed my eyes and prayed the hardest and longest I’d ever prayed in my life. When I heard the sirens, I kept praying, right up until they took Coven from my arms and loaded him into an ambulance. I even prayed when the coroner came and took my father away in a shiny, black body bag with thick metal zippers up the middle, as I stood on the front lawn. And I even prayed as two police officers dragged my stepmother to a waiting squad car, spitting and cursing the whole time; her face and body covered in blood. She looked at me then, my lips that were still moving in silent prayers and she grinned. She smiled a smile so cold and evil that it made my skin break out in goose bumps and my stomach lurched. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, she was gone.

STOMPING OFF THE stage, the chants of soldiers behind me, I wiped the steady stream of sweat out of my eyes and peeled off the t-shirt that was stuck to me like a second skin. Nodding to a member of our security team, I made my way to the room set aside for the bands that were performing. Tossing my shirt on the floor, with a thick, liquid plop, I grabbed a towel off a nearby table loaded up with toiletries and various items.

Great show! said a prim, but eager female voice. A short, curvy woman with long brown hair stood before me. She had on a beige crew neck t-shirt and well-worn, baggy ACU pants that were tucked into her scuffed desert boots. Her chest was heaving with excitement and her tanned skin glowed with a sheen of sweat.

You lost, sweetheart? I asked her, before downing an entire bottle of water. She shook her head and licked her shiny, pink lips.

"I’m a huge fan. Huge! I’ve never seen your band in concert before and I just had to sneak back here to tell you how great you are!" she gushed. I nodded and tossed the empty bottle into a trash can nearby. Looking at her, I raised an eyebrow as I mentally removed her uniform with my teeth; causing her to blush under my gaze.

No. That’s not why you’re back here. You came back here because that tight little pussy of yours is aching to be filled with rock star cock. Am I right, Suzy Soldier? I asked. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned.

"My name’s Karen," she replied stiffly, like I’d offended her. I laughed, causing her to flinch a bit. I hit her with my signature smile, the one they said caused panties to drop and she smiled in return.

"What does it fucking matter? In a few minutes, you’re going to be calling my name as I bottom out in your sweet snatch," I told her as I descended upon here, my large hand cupping her face. She gasped at the physical contact and then moaned as I grabbed one of her full tits in my hand; squeezing.

"Take off your clothes, Suzy. I want to see all of you," I ordered as I walked over to a small, worn leather loveseat. Quickly, as if I was going to fucking disappear, she removed her uniform and stood before me naked and nervous. Full heavy breasts, a flat trim stomach and wide hips with a bare pussy. Thank you!

Come ‘ere, I told her, my cock hard as fuck in my worn, black jeans. She padded over and stood before me like the creamiest looking gift Santa could’ve put under my Xmas tree. Pushing a chair in front of her with my foot, I motioned to it with my hand.

Sit down and spread yourself for me, I told her. She swallowed and nodded, rushing to sit down. I smiled as she opened her muscular legs, baring her pink pussy to me. Her small, rosy nipples pebbled at being exposed to the air. The lips of her sex glistened with wetness and it made my cock throb.

Touch yourself for me; spread that sweet pussy, baby doll, I said, my voice rough with need. Suzy trailed her fingers down her stomach and caressed the swollen lips of her pussy before spreading wide for me; the dark pink between her legs on display for my eyes only. Her clit was swollen and I leaned forward, smelling her sweetness.

You’re so wet for me already, Suzy. I bet that pussy is tight. Slide a finger inside yourself, let me see your pussy suck it in, I moaned, biting my bottom lip. She gasped softly as she slid her middle finger inside of herself, her tightness gripping it. My eyes closed as I imagined my cock in there. The adrenalin pumping through me from the concert just amped up my need to fuck her deep and hard. Getting to my knees, I slid toward her as she moved her middle finger in and out; the sound of her wetness driving me crazy. Yanking her hand away from her pussy, I placed both of my hands on the insides of her thighs. Suzy gasped again and then moaned as my wet mouth met her swollen clit. I licked it hard, making my tongue flat. Lapping her up, adding a few sucks in between; I slid my index and middle fingers inside of her, arching them up a bit.

So fucking tight, I murmured against her as she began to fuck my fingers; mewling. Smiling, I took her hardened clit in between my lips and sucked hard, feeling her pussy clamp down on me as she came. Fuck that was quick! Standing, I slid my jeans down as I kicked off my boots at the same time. Suzy was liquid sex and satisfied in the chair. Sitting back on the couch, I grabbed a condom out of my jeans and looked at her as I slid it down my thick, long cock.

Hop on this cock, baby, I ordered. Suzy stood, and turned; her back to me. She straddled my lap, her back against my chest. Slowly, she slid down my length, making us both moan at the same time. Her hot cunt gripped my cock like a fucking vise and I nearly came as I slid up into her.

"Ahhh, Gridley! You feel so fucking good," she moaned as my hands came around to squeeze her nipples while she rode me; kneading her full tits in my hands. I slammed up into her tightness as I reached around, letting go of one of her tits, to rub her clit with my thumb.

Too . . . much. It’s . . . oh god, Gridley!

Yeah, fuck that cock, I moaned as her pussy became tighter with each thrust; each flick of my fingers against her clit. Pressing hard on her swollen nub, I groaned as I felt her come all over my rigid cock. Growling, I thrust up into her hard, gripping her hips so tightly, I knew she’d have marks when we were done. Suzy’s head fell back against my shoulder as she rode me; our moans and skin slapping the only sounds in the room. Grabbing her nipples again, I slammed up into her over and over, my cock getting harder as we fucked.

Gonna come! I yelled as I felt her tighten around me again, my own orgasm hitting me as I spilled into the condom. I saw fucking black spots as my heart raced. Suzy leaned back against me; stuck to my skin with our shared sweat. Slowly, I blinked.

Gotta go, sweetheart. I have a convoy to catch, I said into her ear as I tapped her hip with my fingers. With wobbly legs, she climbed off me. I made quick work of the used condom and dressed just as quickly. Suzy smiled and got back into her uniform.

Thank you, she breathed, staring at me with lust and admiration. I snickered.

Don’t mention it, kid. You have a fucking nice pussy, I replied. She stood there like she was expecting something. Shaking my head, I patted her on the shoulder.

You can go now, Suzy, I told her. This time, her face fell and her eyes narrowed. She muttered something under her breath, turned and left the room. Grabbing my gear, I sighed and looked around. Leave it to me to get some quality tail in the Middle East. Gotta love being a motherfucking rock star.

18 months later

"EIGHTEEN FUCKING YEARS old. Eighteen! You just graduated from high school, you little asshole and enrolled in barber school or whatever you call it. What makes you think that you’re mature enough to do this?" I asked my younger brother, Coven. He leaned against the wall of my hospital room and glared down at me, worrying his septum piercing and staring at me with his light green eyes. His longish blonde hair was messy and he stood there trying to make his five-foot-eleven frame look bigger than it was. He crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t say anything.

"Anything? Nothing?" I asked in anger. He huffed in frustration.

You’re not my dad, he hissed. I laughed loudly at that one. Looking around the room of my rehab facility in Upstate New York that I was staying in after my most recent surgery, with its white walls and pink tile floor, I fought the urge to kill my little brother. If only I could get out of this damn bed and do it.

"No, you’re right, asshole, I’m not. He’s buried... six feet under... worm food," I spat out. His eyes widened and his face paled.

That wasn’t right, he whispered. If he only knew the half of it.

"Want me to sugar coat shit for you? Sorry, Coven, I’m your brother, not Willy Wonka. Not gonna happen. I’m all you have," I retorted. He flinched like I’d hit him.

The girls, he offered weakly. I shook my head and propped myself up in my bed. I winced a bit and looked back at him.

Nope. Aria is busy with the kids and her job. And Aura… she’s going to be on my side with this one, I replied. He frowned and looked out the window.

"You do it then," he spat at me. I looked down and laughed bitterly.

"Really? Do you honestly think that I can stand up on a stage for three plus hours in my current condition and play lead guitar?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. We both looked down at my legs. Well if you could call it legs, plural. Ten months ago, I’d had my right leg amputated below my knee. This was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, for me after being in a nasty accident following a USO show in Iraq over a year ago.

Why not? There are guys who play sports and shit; they’re amputees too. You’re just going to stand there, Gridley. It’s not like you’re going to be stage diving or dancing, he replied nastily. My sister, Aura was the keyboardist for my rock band called Sweet Mercy. Before the accident, I’d been their front man, lead guitarist and co- founder. Apparently, our fill-in guitarist, Ace, had a family emergency and they needed someone to fill his spot for a few months. Aura couldn’t do it because she was now on the mommy track full speed. But my genius little brother thought he was the perfect person for the job and I didn’t agree. I’d talked to my bassist and best friend, Napoleon about the whole thing and he was on my side on this issue. Our drummer, Patrick ‘Trick’ Maldonado, was incommunicado on this issue, as per usual lately.

If it will prevent you from getting up on that stage and throwing away your scholarship, I’ll play in a fucking wheelchair, I told him finally. He shook his head and mumbled under his breath.

I know you saved my life and shit, but you’re taking this too far, he mumbled. He was referring to when he was one. His mother had cut him up so badly and done so much damage to him, it was a lucky thing I’d found him lying in his room when I did. Otherwise he’d be dead too.

"Yeah, well while you stand there and think that I have this all figured out, here’s a newsflash: I don’t. So stop pouting. I just don’t want you going on the road for weeks and weeks. You signed up for school, you need to finish what you started. And I could really use your help, man," I told him. He stood there, a pissed-off expression on his face as he said nothing.

Plus, you’ll get to do your wrestling shit if you stay close by, I replied. His face softened at that and he gave me a half smile. Coven liked to wrestle, had been doing it since junior high. But not the kind where the guys wear a unitard with the school logo on it, at least not anymore. Now, he and his buddy Angelo liked to dress up in tights and boots and jump around like a bunch of idiots. They trained hard for it, don’t get me wrong, but it seemed like a waste to me. Everything else aside, I didn’t want him to get pulled into the rock star life more than he already had been; no matter how well it paid.

"You’d let me wrestle? With the UWA?" he asked. His eyes were all excitement and happiness, which made me feel a tiny bit guilty for thinking his wrestling was shit.

"The what?" I asked as I adjusted myself on the bed. He rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance.

"I talk about it all the time, Gridley! The Upstate Wrestling Association," he replied, his voice edged with frustration. I laughed.

You never stop talking, Coven. About anything. And if you’re not talking, Angelo is. About girls or cars or whatever it is you two like to talk about. You guys are motor mouths, so forgive me if I don’t remember everything you mention to me, I replied. He frowned.

Yeah, well I told you about UWA, Gridley, he muttered and then just stared at me. What the hell was I missing? He goes from happy to pissed to depressed in five minutes. He was so much like Aura it was insane.

I have to go, Aria is picking me up. She’s going to drop me off at work and then I’m going to her house tonight, he said, looking down at his phone. He typed something into the screen and then slid the phone into the pocket of his athletic pants.

"Again?" I asked. He nodded and smiled.

She has a meeting with her editor tonight, Cavali is away in London for the next two weeks with Anneliese so she can visit his mother’s family. With Aura being in California for the month, she doesn’t have anyone to watch Strong, he replied. I frowned.

"What about Strong’s father?" I asked. Coven shook his head and grinned.

"Tattoo convention in Philly. And before you ask, Lake is away on a religious retreat or something for addicts. So, Theresa and I are watching Strong, Bowie and Harley," he replied, referring to his girlfriend. My sister’s little girl, Anneliese, was almost six months old, as was Lake and Axel’s son, Bowie. Knowing my nephew, Strong and his attitude, Coven was going to have his hands full.

"Fine, whatever. Just make sure you tell Aura that you’re not going on tour with Sweet Mercy," I replied. He nodded, patted me on the shoulder and left. I watched my little brother walk out of the room and sighed. Gritting my teeth against the pain I was feeling, I let my head fall back on my pillow. How in the fuck did I get here? The past year and a half flashed through my head like a movie stuck on repeat. I’d signed on for an overseas USO gig with my band, Sweet Mercy but at the eleventh hour, two of my bandmates came down with pneumonia and had to back out. Two friends from high school offered to help and I readily accepted. Mere days before my band’s tour in the Middle East was over, after a killer sex session with an enlisted hottie, me and my mates are literally on our way back to the airport in Iraq. We’re shooting the shit, talking about all the things we would do once we got stateside. The next thing I know, I’m lying in the dust, with my assistant manager, Sanchez’s head in my lap. She died right there as I cradled her head; I still had fucking nightmares about it. After the blast, I’d crawled to the Humvee and dragged out my drummer, Alvarado, whose arm was hanging by a thread. Alvarado and I spent the next three months in a hospital in Germany before being deemed stable enough to be transported home. After that it was three more surgeries. I’d had what the docs called a severe open fracture with non-reconstructable neurovascular injury. After they’d amputated my leg below my knee and did a bunch of skin grafts, they’d released me to this rehab facility. They didn’t tell me there would be unimaginably horrible pain before, during and after all was said and done. Pain that felt like they were ripping my leg off, twisting and turning all my nerves and muscles; white-hot, throbbing pain that made it hard to catch my breath. And to make matters even worse, let’s not forget the crippling anxiety and depression. Alvarado’s arm had to be amputated, but they’d transferred him back to Abilene, Texas, his hometown. He was working with docs in the hopes that he could get behind his drum kit once again.

Knock, knock! called out a cheerful voice. I looked to the doorway and smiled at my gorgeous physical therapist, Rosalee. Her long, curly black hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and her ample curves filled out her Tweety Bird scrubs. Rosalee walked into the room and gave me a wide smile; her dark brown eyes full of joy. She was one of the nicest people here, but she was too damn cheerful, especially in the morning. After my conversation with Coven, which I knew was far from over, I wasn’t in the mood for cheerful. But I could smell her orange and cinnamon scent as she walked over to me and it went to my head. Was I that hard up that I had the hots for my therapist?

Are you ready to get out of that bed? Your prosthesis is all ready for you to take it for another test drive! she sang. I half expected her to raise a pom pom in the air and yell ‘Go Team’; the thought making me smirk a bit.

What do you put in your coffee, Rosalee? I asked. She giggled and shook her head, her big brown eyes dancing.

Honestly? It’s all about being positive, Gridley, she pointed out. She went out into the hallway and came back with a wheelchair. I raised an eyebrow and shook my head.

"You sure I’m going to be able to fit into that?" I asked in disbelief as I looked at the small wheelchair. She studied me for a minute and huffed out a sigh; she didn’t believe it was Gridley-sized either.

Well, if not, you might have to pull up your leg and maybe hunch over, she replied with a laugh as she demonstrated the position. I laughed with her and swung myself around on the bed. Together, we maneuvered me into the chair and we were out of the room. Rosalee walked beside as I navigated the wheelchair down the hallway. I’d become something of an expert with this piece of equipment.

"So, who was the surly looking young man stomping out of your room? The one who looked kinda like you, minus the fact he’s a blonde and you’re a raven-haired giant?" she asked; making conversation. I laughed at her description of Coven and her reference to our similarities. Like Coven, I had my septum pierced, as well as gauges in both ears. I had close cropped black hair, unlike my younger brother who wore his wild and curly. And unlike Coven, I was covered in tattoos, including the new tattoo near my eyebrow that said ‘Blessed’; I’d gotten that one after my first surgery; the one where I’d flatlined.

That was my baby brother, Coven, I replied. She smiled.

Interesting name. What does it mean? she asked. I shivered, her question instantly making me think of Coven’s mother and her weird ways. An odd tingle travelled up my spine and I cringed involuntarily.

"Well according to good ol’ Mr. Webster, it literally means ‘a gathering of witches’. His whack job mama named him, so I have no idea what she was thinking when she did it," I remarked acidly. I could see her icy cold gaze in my mind and I fought the urge to shudder again.

So, he’s your half -brother then? she asked. We rounded a corner and kept moving.

He’s just my brother, no halves or wholes involved; his mama married my dad when I was a kid. She just happened to be a mean bitch, Coven’s nothing like her, thank goodness, I remarked.

Any other siblings? she asked. She looked ahead then back at me out of the corner of her eye. I nodded.

I’m the oldest of four. I have two younger sisters; both redheads. And then there’s me, the oldest by three years, I replied. She smiled.

Wow, that’s so special that you have one another. And two redheaded sisters, I’m jealous. I always thought girls with red hair were magical or something; at least when I was little I did, she remarked with a laugh. It almost made me stop the wheelchair.

I’d never heard anyone refer to any of us kids like that. Our stepmother usually called us ‘demons’ or ‘Satan spawn’, I replied. Rosalee gasped; a horrified expression on her pretty face.

"That’s terrible. All children are special," she said happily. I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Yup, we’re special alright," I remarked with a grin and she laughed as she caught my double meaning. We came to a large physical therapy room that the facility housed. One of the three in this place, not counting the massive hydrotherapy rooms and the workout room with three, special zero-gravity treadmills. I wheeled over to a cushioned table and looked up at her. She placed my prosthesis on the table and looked down at me.

You know how to do this, I’m not going to hold your hand, Gridley. Get it on and let’s get started, she ordered sternly. Her happy go lucky demeanor was gone and, in its place, was a physical therapy drill sergeant. I had a semi just from her ordering me around a bit.

After an hour and a half of physical therapy with Rosalee, I was soaked with sweat, but my body thrummed from all the physical activity. No more wheelchair, Rosalee gave me a walker to use, so that I could gain my balance. After that, we’d graduate to a cane.

My days consisted of physical therapy and talking to some head shrinker who’d never even been in the military. Fun times to be had by all. I couldn’t tell the shrink about half the shit I was going through, he wouldn’t understand. The pain at nights was bearable compared to the nightmares that plagued my sleep. Seeing Sanchez die in my arms over and over every night was beginning to take its toll. And the dreams about my childhood were unwelcome reminders of things best left forgotten. Everything I’d read on the internet told me I should probably talk to this guy, tell him what I’m going through. But I didn’t trust him. Hell, I didn’t even know him. So what difference did it make? I’d lost more than my fucking leg in that overheated hellhole, I’d lost family and a piece of my fucking soul. I hobbled back to my room, lost in thought about everything I’d been forced to give up.

NOPE, NOT HAPPENING, said Aura through the phone. We’d been discussing me going on tour with Sweet Mercy. I stared up at the ceiling and counted to ten before I responded to my little sister.

Why not?

Didn’t you just get done telling me that you’re now using a walker? I highly doubt that’s something that’ll work on stage in front of thousands, Gridley. Do you want to destroy your body when you’re trying to build it back up? she scolded me.

What the hell do you mean, Aura? I asked through gritted teeth. She laughed on the other end of the phone. I envisioned strangling my hippy sister and it made me smile.

Stop doing that, she said.

Doing what? I asked. Another laugh.

You’re probably imagining what it would be like to choke me, she replied. I laughed this time.

Never, I replied sarcastically. My sister was creepy weird and oddly intuitive.

Do you want to know the reason why I’m saying ‘no’ to you coming on tour with us? she asked.

Yeah, go ahead. But please, don’t drag it out and play your silly little games, I muttered impatiently.

Rough therapy day? she asked. She didn’t know the half of it.

I just want to get to a point where I can get out of here, I replied. She sighed into the phone.

I spoke with Freya and the tour may not happen, she blurted out. I growled into the phone and cursed.

I’m pregnant, she blurted out. I almost dropped my phone.

"You’re…what? Again?! How’s that even possible?" I asked shrilly. She sighed again.

I mean…I know how it happens…but Lisa didn’t grow a dick did she? I asked. She laughed long and loud at this one.

It’s a good thing I don’t have you on speaker phone, she muttered.

Artificial insemination. That’s how, she replied slowly, like I was mentally deficient. I ran a hand over my face and realized I needed to trim my beard up. I must look like a serial killer with my bushy beard.

"So, you’re knocked up, big deal," I replied with a shrug of my shoulders.

Nice bro, way to be all hearts and flowers. You’re such an ass sometimes. I’m a high-risk pregnancy which is why I waited until I was five months along to tell you, she explained. That info made me sit up straighter in my chair.

Are . . . are you okay, Aura? Why is it high-risk? What’s wrong? I stammered, getting ready to fly to California to be with her.

It’s my blood pressure. The docs want me to take it easy, that’s all, she replied. I could feel my own blood pressure lower a fraction and I sat back against the chair.

What does that mean for the tour? I asked as I played with the cuff on my basketball shorts. Nurses walked by my room and didn’t spare me a glance.

We’re postponing it until next year, she said flatly. I rolled my eyes.

Nap must have loved that. He didn’t give you shit, did he? I asked.

He doesn’t scare me, I’ll just sic Freya on him, she said with a chuckle. I laughed along with her.

"We all need to square ourselves away then. You and the baby especially," I told her.

And you and your surgeries. Just get better, learn to walk with your new leg, she told me. I looked up at the television that was on the stand against the wall directly from my bed; a talk show playing with the sound down low.

Oh, by the way, some chick’s been calling for you, she added as an afterthought. She often did this, hopped from one tangent to the next.

Chick? Who? I asked, my attention snapping away from the television. She laughed.

Says her name is . . . Tiernan? It’s for her cousin James? she asked, sounding as if she was reading the names off from a note she’d written. I groaned and looked up at the ceiling. Not that one. My ex-girlfriend, well really the only girlfriend I’d ever had.

I take it you know who he or she is? This James? laughed Aura. I ground my teeth together and shook my head. James was a woman I’d been trying to forget.

James is definitely a ‘she’. An unforgettable one too. Met her at some bar after my first or second surgery . . . uh about . . . I don’t know eleven months ago . . . no wait, after my first surgery . . . so closer to a year. We hooked up a few times, I was the one who wanted more, for once. But when I brought it up, she cut me off cold, I replied, noticing the bitterness in my own voice.

"She turned you down? Did you do something wrong?" she asked, disdain in her voice. Aura didn’t understand me, never had. I wasn’t a guy who was going to be all fancy with the words, that’s for certain. But I was also a straight shooter and wasn’t going to sweet talk my way into your panties, giving you false hope. That’s how shit got complicated and right now, I was full up on complicated.

No. Nothing like that. We tried dating, but with more surgeries in the future and my own shit, she went back to the UK. I thought we’d keep in touch but soon after, shit went south quickly, I replied. She was a nice girl, James, even if her name was somewhat unconventional. I’d met her at some bar near the hospital, like I’d told my sister. James had been tall, with long reddish-brown hair and these amazing blue eyes. We talked about my time in the military and her job. She was a doctor, a microbiologist and did research at the nearby hospital, on loan or something from a fancy hospital in London. I fell for her hard and fast; totally unlike me. But it was inevitable, my fame got to her. She was happy to be off the radar, while my life was smack dab on it.

Are you kidding me? screeched James, which wasn’t like her. I looked up from the weight bench I was balanced on, a set of resistance bands in my hands. James stomped into my home gym, dressed in a crisp, black business suit and spiky heels. She frowned briefly, then tossed an envelope and small box of condoms at me. Frowning, I attempted to bend down to retrieve them, but was limited in my movement. She sighed in frustration as she bent over and handed the stuff to me, her hair falling forward and hiding her face. Putting down the resistance bands, I opened the envelope and sighed. About fifty naked pictures were inside, of various women. I looked up at her and saw that she had her hands on her hips and was tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

Well? she asked, her blue eyes flashing with anger. This was what I’d wanted to avoid by getting too involved. Frankly, I was surprised by her outburst, she usually wasn’t like this.

"Well what, James? What do