Minka #2
“You wanted privacy to tell me I fucking suck?” He leads me around the closest corner, moving slowly to make it easier for me and my limp. “To tell me I screwed up.”
“To tell you I screwed up.” I nibble on my bottom lip and peek up at his terrified eyes. “The fact you think I’ve led you away from the crowd, just so I can say shitty things, proves how horrible I’ve been. I’m not a very nice person, Cato.”
“No, you—”
“Let me finish.” I draw us to a stop, barely thirty yards from the others.
But we’re out of sight, and for as long as I don’t have them staring at the side of my face, warming my skin with their curiosity, I summon my courage and inhale a shuddering breath.
“I’m prickly and annoying and intolerant.
I don’t like noise, and I hate changes in my routine.
You saw all this already.” Gently, I tug my arm from his grip and stand on my own two feet.
Then, bringing my hand up, I run my fingers through my hair, oily and sweaty from a long day.
“In that Podunk town in the middle of nowhere, you saw how I didn’t—couldn’t—adapt, and then you saw me make a dick of myself. That’s who I am.”
I drop my hand, exhaling until my chest shrinks.
“The medical examiner everyone else sees, the boss, the chick in a professional outfit with a fancy white coat and an extravagant job title… It’s all a show.
A front I want the world to see. But the idiot who cries over changed plans, the psycho who shouts because it’s hot and her living room is messy…
That’s me, masks off. God knows, I have no clue why Archer tolerates me.
For reasons I’ll never understand, he makes my faults seem… pretty.”
“I know why.” He’s so cute. So handsome. So forgiving, even before I’ve finished stumbling through my apologies. “He loves you. That’s how he does it.”
“You’re just a kid who wants to be with his brothers. You want the family you were deprived of. And dammit, you deserve that. But the best I ever seem to offer are critical words, constant bitchiness, and when I’m feeling extra horrible, I tell you you’re unwanted.”
I drop my gaze and pick up a section of tulle…
a destroyed piece of my dress. But it creates the perfect sensory distraction as I rub the fabric between my fingers.
“I won’t bore you with my weird brain and the ways I could try to justify my behavior.
I won’t explain how my words are projections, and my unkindness is a defense mechanism. ”
“You won’t?”
I bring my eyes up again. “No. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.
And to say—to hope—that my poor behavior doesn’t leave lasting scars on a heart that never deserved to be hurt.
That during your lowest moments, because I know you have them, I sincerely hope my words are not the words you hear.
I don’t want to be the reason you’re in pain. ”
“So you’re just…” His thick, dark brows pull closer until they almost form a single, long line. “Could be my own trauma and weird brain, but I don’t want you to stop being who you are, Doc.”
“You—”
“I have my low moments, and I hear you during them. Every single time.”
My heart aches, stuttering in my chest and bruising my soul. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, pushing his lips into a smug side smirk. “I pick at you, ‘cos it’s fun. But I hear you and him…” He jerks a thumb back the way we came. “I hear your love when I’m down, and it kinda gives me hope.”
“What?”
“I was born with a role. Told who I would be, and flogged if I colored outside the lines. I figured my destiny was set, and I was mad at Archer and Tim for ditching, because it felt, to my kid brain, like they knew what my future was, and they didn’t care enough to help me choose something else.
I was pissed at Lix and Micah for staying behind, and I was furious at Tim and Archer for not.
So when I came to Copeland, I fully intended to be the biggest pain in the ass they’ve ever known, hoping they’d pick a fight and, who knows, maybe weapons would be drawn and I could feel justified in wiping another Malone off this planet. ”
“You came here to hurt them?” My pulse thunders faster. Wilder. “You… I…” I stop and shake my head. “Not what I expected you to say.”
He chuckles. “I wouldn’t have been a coward about it.
Not shooting them in the back, or slitting their throats while they slept.
I wanted to look into their eyes and fight, and if they took me out as payback, then I would’ve considered it time well spent and a nice way to cheat destiny.
But they hardly argue with me. They mostly nod and smile and gently try to explain how I could be a better man when you’re not listening. ”
“They do?”
He drops his chin, a soft smile wrinkling the corner of his mouth. “They’re parenting me, the way Tim II should have. They’re understanding and kind and selfless and annoyingly tolerant. Fuck knows where they got that from, because it wasn’t from our father.”
“Cato—”
“But you, Mayet… You’re always good for a fight.
You’re always ripe for a knock-down-drag-out bust-up, and it turns out I kinda like that, too.
When you fight with me, you make me feel like I matter, because we both know you go cold on the people who don’t matter.
And when you’re whispering with Archer, cuddling and giggling when you think I can’t hear, you become the voice I hear when everything feels hard.
Because you accept a Malone—even though he’s a Malone—and you love that asshole so much, you’d trade your life for his.
And he makes your flaws pretty. He loves you so much, they stop being flaws, and instead, they become reasons.
Reasons to love. Reasons to hold on. Reasons to fight through the hard, knowing the good is worth it.
” He folds his arms and looks down at his feet, nervously toeing the floor.
“I like knowing I matter, and I love knowing I don’t have to die to escape my destiny. Turns out, I get to choose where I go.”
“You’re making it really hard to apologize, just so you know.” I fold my neck and peek up at his emotional, glassy gaze. “I’m a bitch, and you deserve better. I’m trying to say those words, but you keep cutting me off with really sweet things.”
“I’m saying I love you exactly the way you are.
And it’s possible I put my shoes on the counter this morning, hoping you’d explode over it.
I leave my things lying around, I take up space, and I push your buttons, because Tim and Archer…
Micah and Lix… they have to love me. Family loyalty kinda means they get no choice. But you do. Aubree does.”
“Cato—”
“You fight with me, even when it would be so easy for you to ignore me instead. I guess… what I’m trying to say is…
” He hesitates, shaky and nervous. “I’m saying that I love you, Minka.
I love you like I love my brothers, and it would destroy me if you ever stopped fighting with me.
The shoes and the mess and the picking at you…
That’s all for fun. It’s intentional. But I swear…
Steve.” His eyes glitter with torment. “I didn’t ignore him.
I didn’t do that to annoy you. But after our fight this morning, and our fight on the phone…
I can see how you might think I fucked him over on purpose. ”
“I don’t think that.” I lay my hand on his arm and gently squeeze. “I promise, I know you did everything you could to help him.”
“If you want space to cool off… if you don’t want me around right now, ‘cos your brain isn’t adapting and my presence is a real bother, then I’ll go.”
I snap my neck straight and search his green eyes. “What?”
“The bar apartment is technically empty now. And Archer’s apartment is available, too.
Both are still close, so I’ll be around, but I’ll give you your space back so you don’t cross that line between fighting for fun, and going cold because I’m just…
I’m too much. No guilt trip,” he rasps. “No drama. This isn’t manipulation or bullshit.
This is me telling you that I love you, and I value having you in my life.
So I’ll back off, because that’s better than losing you altogether. ”
“I don’t want you to leave.” I step forward and wrap him in a hug, surprising us both—myself most of all—when I lay my ear over his wildly pounding chest and squeeze my arms tight.
I crush my eyes shut and spiral, counting every excruciating second that he doesn’t hug me back.
One. Two. Ten. I’m weird. I’m socially incapable.
I was reading him wrong, and hugging him is dumb.
My thoughts ricochet through my mind like bullets crossing no-man’s-land, pinging when they hit, only for another to follow immediately after.
My stomach rolls and my heart tumbles—stop hugging him, stupid!
Maybe it’s just the culmination of an insanely long day, and maybe I’m a little worried about Steve, but tears fill my eyes and make them itch.
Furiously, insanely, infuriatingly itch.
Let him go.
Step away from the boy!
Stop touching.
Oh, God. I’m an idiot.
But then he wraps his arms around me, too. It’s not stiff. Not formal. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s just… It’s a Malone hug, the way Archer does it so well, and then it’s his nose dropping to my hair and his heart calming in my ear.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I whisper. If I speak even a fraction louder, he might realize I’m emotional and ridiculous. “I like having you in our apartment.”
He chuckles. “You’re lying. No one likes their unemployed, lazy, freeloading brother-in-law sleeping on the couch.”
“I do. Truly. I like knowing you’re with us.
I like how it feels, knowing you have the money to stay literally anywhere else, with anyone else, on a bed that is actually comfortable, in a room you could have privacy in, in a place that has adequate heating and cooling and doesn’t have a four-floor walkup.
You’re not there because you’ve got nowhere else to go.
You have all the options in the world, and you choose us anyway.
” I sniffle and pull back, just far enough to look into his eyes.
“You choose us, because you love us. And considering I know how weird and hostile and unfriendly I am… your presence is kinda healing my kiddie trauma and fear of abandonment.”
“Guess we’re both freaks, then.” He drags me back in and crushes me against his chest. “Do you love me enough to toss Archer aside and make me your man instead?”
“No!” I shove out of his hold and smack his arm, the crack of my open palm reverberating along the hall. “And we will never speak of what happened earlier today.”
“You mean when I was nutting inside some chick and thinking of you?”
I hit him again. But his shoulder is muscular and solid as rock, and my palms are already sore. “You’re annoying! And wildly inappropriate.”
“And you’re back to normal.” He drapes his arm over my shoulders and starts along the hall with slow, un-straight steps.
“Maybe someday I’ll meet a chick who is age-appropriate, and if I’m lucky, I’ll like fighting with her, too.
She has large shoes to fill, Chief Mayet, and a fancy white coat to make look good.
But if the day comes, maybe you could check her out for me and give me your scowl of approval. ”
“My scowl of approval.” I roll my eyes and spy Archer hovering at the end of the hall. Waiting. Watching. Worrying. But not intruding. “I’ll take her side. Always.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“And if you piss her off too much and get a divorce, I’ll choose her.”
“As you should.” He glances down, grinning. “From now until then, I’ll fight with you and not tell outsiders how I have mommy issues and nut sometimes when I think of you.”
“I’m going to stab you while you sleep.” I push him off and slap his grabbing hands away.
Brushing my dress down and broadening my shoulders, I lift my chin and head toward my husband.
“He’s a pain in my ass and completely incapable of being a normal, mature adult human being.
” I walk straight into Archer’s arms and stop only when my ear rests over his heart. “He’s annoying.”
“She’s back.” Cato continues past, smirking and winking when our eyes meet. Then he keeps going, around the corner and toward the rest of our crowd. “How long till a doctor comes up here and tells us what the fuck is going on with Steve? Don’t they know who we are? Malones don’t wait.”