Page 60 of Bad Moon Rising (Dark-Hunter 17)
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Fang sat on the edge of his bed with his feet on the floor, his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. He was so tired of everything. Tired of trying to hold himself together. Tired of hurting. Of longing for things he couldn't have.
He just wanted one minute of peace.
Why was that one thing so hard to find? Surely it should be simple and yet it was the most elusive target he'd ever known.
Before he could move, Vane appeared there before him in the room. He pulled Fang up from the bed and grabbed him in a hug so fierce he felt his ribs crack.
Fang fought the hold. "Get off me, you fucking perv!"
Vane let go, then punched him hard in his arm.
Grimacing, Fang shoved at him and would have returned the blow with one of his own had Vane not dodged it. "What was that for?"
Vane snarled at him. "For not telling me what happened to you, you asshole." That last word was loaded with enough venom to bring down a raging bull elephant.
Completely confused, he scowled. "What are you talking about?"
Vane grabbed him by the shirt and held him with two angry fists. "Aimee told me where you were all the months I thought you were in a coma. What pisses me off most is that you should have been the one who told me. Not her."
Pissed at his tone and hold, Fang shoved him back again. "Yeah, well you should have been the one helping me get my soul back. Not her."
"I thought I was dreaming."
Fang snorted. "Vane, come help me," he said coldly, using the words he'd tried repeatedly to get his brother's attention. "Not exactly subtle."
A tic worked in Vane's jaw. He gestured toward the rumpled bed. "And when I came in here to see you, you looked comatose. Everyone told me that's what was wrong with you. How was I supposed to know otherwise?"
How indeed. Fang glared at him and his obtuse stupidity. "You should have known better. When have I ever laid down and licked my wounds? Really?"
Vane looked away, his features sheepish as he realized the truth. Fang wasn't a coward. He was a fighter through and through. "You're right. I should have known better. I should have thought better of you. But I know how much Anya meant to you. I just assumed-"
That Fang was weak and incompetent. It was what Vane had always thought of him and Fang was tired of being in his shadow. "Look, I don't want to talk about it. What's done is done. Thanks to Aimee and her brothers, I'm back."
Bully that, given the way Fury and Vane had shafted him. But for better or worse, he was here in the human realm.
Come to think of it, he'd basically traded one hell for another. Tell me again why I fought so hard to get back here. . . .
Then again, at least here no one was trying to disembowel him.
Yet.
"Let's just forget what happened."
Vane heard those words, but he knew his brother. He'd hurt Fang and it would take a lot of time for both of them to come to terms with what had happened. In all honesty, he hated himself for not being there when he should have been.
But as Fang said, he couldn't undo what had been done. All he could do was make sure that he never let it happen again.
"We're brothers, Fang. You mean everything to me. I hope you know that."
Fang grimaced. "When did you turn into a woman? Gah, if that's what being mated does, I'll do without."
Vane shook his head. "Bride didn't teach me that. Losing Anya did. There are a lot of things I wish I'd said to her before she died. I don't want to make that mistake with you."
Fang made a face. "Yeah, well, please make the mistake. You're creeping me out with the lovey bullshit." He jerked his chin toward the door. "Your woman's downstairs. You shouldn't keep her waiting."
He didn't budge. "We want you to live with us."
Fang still wasn't ready for that. Too much had changed and living with Vane and his human mate . . . he'd really rather not.
"I think I'll stay here for a while. It'll be good for the two of you to have time together without your obnoxious brother intruding."
Vane scoffed. "Is that the real reason?"
"What else?"
Vane looked at the door, then lowered his voice to a low whisper. "Aimee."
Fang snorted, even though his brother was a lot closer to the truth than he ever wanted to admit. "We're friends."
"If you say so. But you have to know that if you're messing with her-"
"I'm not an idiot," he said between clenched teeth. "Wolves and bears don't mix."
"Keep that close. It may be the only thing that saves your life."
Fang rolled his eyes.
Vane clapped him on the back. "If you need me-"
"I'll call."
He shook his head. "I won't let you down again, Fang. I swear it."
"I know." But Fang still wasn't sure if he could trust Vane. His brother hadn't meant to let him down before. Yet it had happened.
Vane held his hand out to him.
Fang took it and let Vane pull him into a tight man hug. He patted him on the back before he left.
Alone, Fang returned to bed only to have someone else knock on the door. He knew instantly who it was. Only one person had that soft, hesitant knock and smelled of vanilla-scented lavender. "Come in, Aimee."
She pushed the door open to frown at him while she held a tray of food. "How did you know it was me?"
"I smelled you."
She tsked. "And to think I waste all that time bathing every day and all my money on soap. Why do I bother when I obviously smell to high heaven?"
He smiled in spite of himself as she set the tray aside. "I like the straight lavender more than that vanilla stuff you have on right now."
She cocked her head in mock offense and rested one hand on her hip. "Oh, I'm being dissed by the wolf who didn't bathe for . . . how many months was it?"
"Not my fault. You could have bathed me."
"Ha! Then you would have been skinned and would have never needed a bath again."
He despised how charmed he was by this exchange. More to the point, how charmed he was by her presence. "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to make sure you and Vane were good."
"Yeah."
She looked at him suspiciously as she neared the bed. "You don't sound sold on it."
"It's not that. I love my brother. I'm just . . ." Bitter. That was the only word to do any kind of justice to his surly mood. He only hoped it was temporary. "It's nothing that I won't get over."
She handed him a beer. "If you say so."
He took it from her and eyed the tray of food she'd parked on his dresser. "I thought I told you I wasn't hungry."
"I figured you were lying."
He laughed. "Thanks for the faith."
Wrinkling her nose at him, she uncovered a plate to show him ham, turkey, dressing, and potatoes. "Do you need anything else?"
You. . . .
Gods, he was such a fool. Her rump was the only roast he wanted to take a bite out of. Even now he could imagine stripping her bare and making love to her until they were both blind from it.
He cleared his throat, wishing he could clear his mind just as easily. "No, and I'm really sorry for the way I treated you earlier."
"You should be, but I understand. I have the same feelings, which really piss me off."
He took a deep draft of his beer. "There's something wrong with us, isn't there?"
"Yes. We're broken."
Setting the beer aside, he pulled her toward him until she was standing between his spread knees. Her scent wrapped around him like a warm cloak as he imagined sliding her T-shirt over her head and freeing her breasts. "I've never wanted a woman as badly as I do you."
She rested her hands on his shoulders as she looked down at him, her gaze scalding hot. "I've never wanted a man until you."
He leaned his head against her stomach while she brushed her hand through his hair, then down to his shoulders. "What are we going to do?"
