Read Online Fortunes & Failures - 03 by T. W. Brown - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: T. W. Brown
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last couple of days she’d returned to the detached, distant, ill-tempered—and on one occasion violent—woman that seemed to be her normal nature. That had been the night she’d asked if he could manufacture something a little stronger than wine. When he suggested the possibility of brandy, Lucy had gone into one of her fits. She wanted meth. He’d refused of course. They hadn’t spoken since. Well…more accurately, she hadn’t spoken to him. This beaker was his peace offering. He was certain that after a few glasses, all would be right in the world again.
Well, at least in the world they had left.
Mackenzie closed the door quietly and padded over to the bed. She looked down at the man who lay sleeping and checked his bandages. Not even a little spotting today, she observed. He was through the worst. It was time to start cutting back on his pain medications. She opened the brown bottle and shook one pill onto her palm. Dropping it into a small cup, she crushed it and added lukewarm water. She stirred the mixture for a while, then cradled the man’s head in one arm, raising it and slowly rousing him just enough so he would reflexively swallow.
After ensuring that his bedding hadn’t been soiled, she headed for the door. Before opening it, Mackenzie paused and looked over her shoulder. “We have some things to talk about, Keith Thomas…so you hurry up and get better.” Then she left.
“How’s that dude?” Juan asked as Mackenzie strolled into the kitchen.
“He should be fine.” Mackenzie grabbed a honeydew melon from the shelf and cut it in half. “I expect him to regain consciousness any day now.”
“So, I imagine you’ll want to stay around the house for the next couple of days.” Juan shook his head when Mackenzie offered the other half of the melon.
“No.” She leaned on the counter directly across from the large man. There was something weird in his voice. And for some strange reason, he wasn’t making eye contact. Instead, he was staring at the floor. “Why would you think that?”
Juan mumbled something indecipherable and resumed sliding his Crocodile Dundee-looking knife across the whetstone. Mackenzie watched him for a moment waiting for an actual answer.
“Juan?” Mackenzie reached over and placed one hand on his…the one holding the knife. “Is something wrong?”
The big man stopped sharpening, but still wouldn’t look up. She felt a slight tremor in his hand. This was as un-Juanlike as she could imagine. Why was he acting like a—
“Seriously?” she said fighting back a laugh. She knew well enough that laughing at this exact moment was precisely the wrong thing to do. “Is this about Keith?”
“What?” Juan’s head popped up and she didn’t need him to answer the question. She saw it all in his big, sad, puppy dog eyes.
Mackenzie sat down the spoon and the melon half that she had only taken two bites of. She walked around the counter and directly up to Juan who had dropped his head again, but hadn’t resumed sharpening. She stepped right up to him, her body pressed against his side. She could feel each breath he took.
Gently, she reached up with both hands and took his face, turning his head towards her. Reluctantly, Juan turned to face her. He still looked at the floor, but at least he let go of his knife, sitting it on the counter beside his stone. His arms dangled at his side swaying slightly like a pair of heavy pendulums.
“Juan,” Mackenzie whispered, stepping into him and looking up into his eyes, “are you jealous?”
Slumped shoulders raised and lowered slightly as he muttered something. His eyes darted left and right as he looked like he was searching for somewhere to run and hide.
“You are!” She smiled, leaning just a little closer so that the entire length of their bodies were touching. Lifting up on her toes, she laid a soft kiss on his lips.
Juan’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He looked down at Mack-enzie with what she
Well, at least in the world they had left.
Mackenzie closed the door quietly and padded over to the bed. She looked down at the man who lay sleeping and checked his bandages. Not even a little spotting today, she observed. He was through the worst. It was time to start cutting back on his pain medications. She opened the brown bottle and shook one pill onto her palm. Dropping it into a small cup, she crushed it and added lukewarm water. She stirred the mixture for a while, then cradled the man’s head in one arm, raising it and slowly rousing him just enough so he would reflexively swallow.
After ensuring that his bedding hadn’t been soiled, she headed for the door. Before opening it, Mackenzie paused and looked over her shoulder. “We have some things to talk about, Keith Thomas…so you hurry up and get better.” Then she left.
“How’s that dude?” Juan asked as Mackenzie strolled into the kitchen.
“He should be fine.” Mackenzie grabbed a honeydew melon from the shelf and cut it in half. “I expect him to regain consciousness any day now.”
“So, I imagine you’ll want to stay around the house for the next couple of days.” Juan shook his head when Mackenzie offered the other half of the melon.
“No.” She leaned on the counter directly across from the large man. There was something weird in his voice. And for some strange reason, he wasn’t making eye contact. Instead, he was staring at the floor. “Why would you think that?”
Juan mumbled something indecipherable and resumed sliding his Crocodile Dundee-looking knife across the whetstone. Mackenzie watched him for a moment waiting for an actual answer.
“Juan?” Mackenzie reached over and placed one hand on his…the one holding the knife. “Is something wrong?”
The big man stopped sharpening, but still wouldn’t look up. She felt a slight tremor in his hand. This was as un-Juanlike as she could imagine. Why was he acting like a—
“Seriously?” she said fighting back a laugh. She knew well enough that laughing at this exact moment was precisely the wrong thing to do. “Is this about Keith?”
“What?” Juan’s head popped up and she didn’t need him to answer the question. She saw it all in his big, sad, puppy dog eyes.
Mackenzie sat down the spoon and the melon half that she had only taken two bites of. She walked around the counter and directly up to Juan who had dropped his head again, but hadn’t resumed sharpening. She stepped right up to him, her body pressed against his side. She could feel each breath he took.
Gently, she reached up with both hands and took his face, turning his head towards her. Reluctantly, Juan turned to face her. He still looked at the floor, but at least he let go of his knife, sitting it on the counter beside his stone. His arms dangled at his side swaying slightly like a pair of heavy pendulums.
“Juan,” Mackenzie whispered, stepping into him and looking up into his eyes, “are you jealous?”
Slumped shoulders raised and lowered slightly as he muttered something. His eyes darted left and right as he looked like he was searching for somewhere to run and hide.
“You are!” She smiled, leaning just a little closer so that the entire length of their bodies were touching. Lifting up on her toes, she laid a soft kiss on his lips.
Juan’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He looked down at Mack-enzie with what she
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