Broken Warrior (The Weavers Circle 1)

“You should have died with them.”

“That’s enough,” Clay barked, stepping over the threshold.

Dane hadn’t even realized Clay had returned. The man came forward and pried Greg’s hand off Dane’s shirt.

“Who the fuck are you?” Greg demanded.

“Clay.”

Greg scowled. “Stay the hell out of this. You have no business here.”

“As his friend, I say I do. Nobody should ever wish something like that on another person.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Greg pounded one fist on his leg and the tears in his voice made Dane feel like shit. They’d all lost Katie and Caleb.

“I heard enough,” Clay growled.

“You don’t know shit.” He pointed a finger at Dane. “Give up your damn share of the cabin. None of us are ever going back there, and you know it. The memories are too painful.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t. Not yet.”

“You sorry son of a—” He started to stalk forward again, and this time the bigger Clay stepped in.

Clay placed a hand on his chest, holding Greg at bay. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to stand here and let you hurt him.”

Greg’s face took on a thunderous expression as his nostrils flared and his lip curled. “He should have been there.” His voice broke on the last word.

“Yeah, Greg, I should have been there,” Dane said softly. “You’ll never know how much I wish that.”

Greg snarled and stomped down the porch steps. He turned at the bottom and pointed his finger again. “This isn’t over. You’ll do what we want, or else.”

“That sounds like a threat,” Clay said as he took a step toward Greg. Clay’s big body was taut with intimidation. “You threaten him, and you’re threatening me.”

“I have no problem with that.” Greg stomped to his car, got in, and slammed the door. He took off in a swirl of dirt.

When Greg’s car was no longer in sight, Dane sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” The guilt had turned to an acid, eating away at his stomach and always bubbling under the surface of his skin. Greg had only brought it seeping through. “The pain my wife’s family feels is still fresh.”

“Wife?”

Dane nodded slowly, not able to lift his eyes from the worn floorboards of the front porch. “She died two years ago. Along with my son. He was only six months old.”

Pain cut through Clay’s voice. “Oh, Dane. I’m so sorry.”

“It was my fault.”

“There’s no way that’s true. I’ve known you only a few days, but I can tell that’s not true.”

“I should have been home. There was a home invasion, and they were killed. I was where I always was back then. In my office.”

“You had an office?”

Dane moved to the stairs and sat. His legs were shaking, and he didn’t feel as if he had the strength to hold himself upright for much longer. And to his relief, Clay sat next to him. Whether he understood it or not, there was something comforting in Clay’s company, something that made it easier to talk about what happened.

“I wasn’t always a handyman. I started this business after they died. There was no staying in that office without feeling like I wanted to die along with them, so I quit.” He looked at his hands hanging between his legs. “Turns out I like working with these more than I ever did paper and computers.”

“I can’t imagine losing your family like that. I’m really very sorry.”

“I should be moving past it, according to everything I’ve read—”

“No, grief works in different ways for everyone.”

Dane gave Clay a sad smile. “They were my life. I’d been with Katie since we were sophomores in high school. We got married at twenty, and everyone said we were too young. Sometimes I’m happy we did that, because we had more time together. But other times, I wish we’d never met, because she was killed. And Caleb…” His voice broke at the thought of his tiny, perfect child. “He was…he was…”

“Oh man, Dane.” Clay pulled him into a hug, and Dane let him. Let himself feel the warmth and the strength of the man. He leaned on him, just for a few moments. Clay’s breath was hot against his cheek. It felt so damn good to feel another person touching him, Dane held his breath and let himself bask in the moment. Bask in what it felt like to give over.

Too much pain over the memories and the encounter with Greg dampened any feelings of desire he harbored for Clay, but he still noticed Clay’s build, the strength of his arms wrapped around him.

Dane stood, stepped away, and looked down at him, taking in the liquid brown eyes and the dark stubble along his jaw. He couldn’t be further away from Katie and her soft blonde looks. It surprised Dane—how much he wanted to get to know Clay. Wanted to find out what made him tick, what he liked.