“We pretty much threw food at you and ran,” Malc agreed, smiling a bit at the memory, but there was tension around his eyes. “But Rowe is just… he’s giving up,” Malcolm explained.

“On what?” Vi asked as I led Malcolm inside, pushing him into a seat at the table as I went to flick the kettle on, and grab the pour-over coffee supplies.

“Everything,” Malcolm said, shrugging. “Getting out of pain, getting to therapy, living his life. He sits in his room staring at the wall.”

“What do you want Billie to do?” Violet asked. “I mean if you want to give him a kick in the ass, isn’t Ferryn more suited for the job? Hell, even Hope or me. Not Billie.”

“I don’t think he needs a kick in the ass. I think he’s doing enough of that to himself,” I said, shaking my head.

“Exactly,” Malcolm agreed. “He just… he needs help. I know we rag on you for your natural healing and woo-woo shit,” he went on, waving around my apartment that was, admittedly, rather woo-woo. “But we all know that nothing works on bug bites like the salve you make. And nothing kicks a cold faster than your tea. You have ways. And I was just thinking that maybe your ways could help Rowe feel better, and that would make him start taking his recovery more seriously. His doctors wanted him at therapy already. And he just… he has no motivation.”

“I can definitely make him some salves and teas and even compresses for you to bring to him.”

“I was thinking more that… maybe I could bring him here?” Malc said.

“Here?” I asked, wondering if Vi and Malc heard the creak in my voice, or if it was just in my own head. “Why?” I added after taking a calming breath.

“I don’t know. Wave some crystals in his face. Pick shit out of his aura. I don’t know how this stuff works,” he admitted. “Maybe a massage.”

“A massage?” I parroted, feeling my pulse skitter at the very idea.

“Yeah, I mean… I don’t know. Maybe it is still too sore. I’m just spitballing. I am willing to try anything. He can’t go on like this for too much longer. It’s eating him up.”

“I’ll… I’ll see what I can do,” I said. “But have you… have you mentioned this to him?” I asked.

“Honestly? No. I don’t think he’d be open to it.”

“How do you expect to get him here then?”

To that, Malc laughed. It was a sad, dark sound. “Lie,” he said.

“And what if he gets here, and he is not happy about it?” I asked.

“I want to make something very clear. You and me, we are never going to be a thing. So you need to stop trying. It’s getting sad.”

Ugh.

No.

I needed to stop letting that memory resurface.

It didn’t do anyone any good.

“What’s he going to do with a broken back? Run away?” Violet asked, smirking. “I know, I know. I’m a terrible person,” she said, rolling her eyes at me. “But, I mean, once he’s here, he’s here. If you can talk him into some treatments, great. If not, hey, at least you tried. And Malc can rest easier knowing he’s tried everything.”

“True,” I agreed, taking a deep breath.

“Do you have any openings tomorrow?” Malc asked.

“In the late afternoon, yeah. I had a client cancel their appointment. I can see Rowe then.”

Which gave me approximately a full day to try to put up some guards to try to protect myself around him.

It wasn’t nearly enough time.

But it was all I was going to get.

“Gee, I just remembered. I have to go and nag my parents tomorrow late afternoon,” Vi said, snapping as she swung her arm as if she was so disappointed. “Shucks, I am going to miss Mr. Grumpy Ass.”

“That’s not nice, Vi,” I said, shaking my head.

“No, but who has ever called me nice?” she shot back.

“Well, you have a point,” I agreed.

“So, it’s settled,” Malcolm said, looking relieved, making me realize just how stressed out he was.

“Yes,” I agreed, moving into the living room, and snatching a crystal out of the bowl on the table.

“Purple this time,” Malcolm said, taking the amethyst tower I handed to him.

“It’s for anxiety relief. Just… keep it in your pocket.”

“Alright.”

“Do you need any tea to—“

“No,” he cut me off, getting to his feet so quickly that he nearly overturned the chair. “No, thanks. I, ah, I have to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon,” he said, giving Vi a one-arm hug as he moved past her. “You need to make sure she’s locking the door. I know you have more sense than that,” he added.

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Vi said when he left. “We know better than being that careless.”

Well, she maybe did. I was told to lock my door, but I often left it open so friends could pop over and feel welcome. I never told my loved ones that, of course, because I would likely come home to some sort of monstrous door that locked itself whenever it closed.

Tags: Jessica Gadziala Henchmen MC Next Generation Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net