Read Online The Guardian (Mended Souls Book 1) by Jacquie Biggar - Free Book Online
Authors: Jacquie Biggar
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agent. He fingered the call button but couldn’t bring himself to press it. Ray was a good guy, but he had no conscience. It was all about the next big film with the man. Usually Scott didn’t mind because that was his goal also—but not any more.
“You know any good parks around here?” He silenced the ringer and slid it back into his pocket.
“Yeah, sure. There’s a fairly quiet one just a few blocks from here, but you better be careful, mate. You make an easy mark looking like that,” the cabbie said.
Scott shrugged. He’d welcome a good fight. Maybe it would relieve some of the God-awful tension he’d been under since the crash.
“Whatever, man, it’s your dime.” The driver shifted into gear and Scott took a last look at the brownstone swiftly disappearing from view.
Ten minutes later he’d paid the cabbie and exited into the quiet sanctuary of the park. There were enough lights interspersed along the walkway to push back the enveloping darkness but not so many that he felt like he was on stage. This was good, better than a night of meaningless sex with a woman he barely knew.
Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.
The further he gimped along the path and worked out the kinks, the looser his muscles became. He’d taken the painkillers Nurse Ratchet left on the bedside table before he vacated the hospital. Tomorrow he’d call and see about getting a prescription for more, though he had a huge aversion to drugs of any kind. Too many of his buddies had gone down that path and never escaped.
The trail led to a gazebo on a little rise in the center of an open area. Scott glanced around, but all was silent. Even the fickle breeze had died down. Hundreds of twinkling lights lit up a midnight blue sky, and though he searched, there were no falling stars. Too bad, he could use a wish about now.
He strode up the path to the entrance of the gazebo, squinting to make out the shapes of a couple of benches. A sturdy wicker chair beckoned. He made his way into the dark building, tested the seat for dryness, and sank down with a sigh of relief. After almost a week in the hospital his energy level was low and it hadn’t been the easiest of nights. If Lucas were here he’d tell him to quit acting like a pussy and grab a set. And Natalya would be fussing over him like a mother hen. His fists clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tsunami of grief threatening to drag him under. What was he going to do without them?
A noise woke him and his free hand went to the base of his neck to massage away the kinks from his awkward position. He must have dozed off. The shuffling sound came again from off to his right. Scott swore and straightened up.
Brilliant, Einstein.
He’d be lucky if he didn’t get rolled.
“Who’s there?”
The sudden silence grew even more oppressive. He rose, careful not to betray any weakness to his, as yet, unseen opponent, even though his side was on fire from sitting too long. A glimmer of white gave the other guy’s position away. Scott moved as unobtrusively as he could to place the heavy wicker chair between them as a sort of bulwark.
“Look, I don’t have much cash but you can take what’s here.” He pulled his wallet free and flung a few dollars down on the seat. “Here. Take it.” He tensed, preparing to protect himself against an attack.
The white moved up and down and the air stirred with the unmistakable sound of wings.
What the…? His pulse kicked up a gear and his hands grew clammy.
An apparition stepped forward into a patch of moonlight and Scott’s mouth dropped open.
“Hey, buddy.”
Lucas stood before him with a crooked grin and a huge motherfuckin’ set of wings on his back.
Chapter 11
M ichael Crenshaw stood inside the door of his home, closed his eyes, and just breathed. He could still smell the bubblegum scent that always clung to his youngest son’s skin. He even fancied he could hear his oldest boy giggling as Mike threw him over his
“You know any good parks around here?” He silenced the ringer and slid it back into his pocket.
“Yeah, sure. There’s a fairly quiet one just a few blocks from here, but you better be careful, mate. You make an easy mark looking like that,” the cabbie said.
Scott shrugged. He’d welcome a good fight. Maybe it would relieve some of the God-awful tension he’d been under since the crash.
“Whatever, man, it’s your dime.” The driver shifted into gear and Scott took a last look at the brownstone swiftly disappearing from view.
Ten minutes later he’d paid the cabbie and exited into the quiet sanctuary of the park. There were enough lights interspersed along the walkway to push back the enveloping darkness but not so many that he felt like he was on stage. This was good, better than a night of meaningless sex with a woman he barely knew.
Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.
The further he gimped along the path and worked out the kinks, the looser his muscles became. He’d taken the painkillers Nurse Ratchet left on the bedside table before he vacated the hospital. Tomorrow he’d call and see about getting a prescription for more, though he had a huge aversion to drugs of any kind. Too many of his buddies had gone down that path and never escaped.
The trail led to a gazebo on a little rise in the center of an open area. Scott glanced around, but all was silent. Even the fickle breeze had died down. Hundreds of twinkling lights lit up a midnight blue sky, and though he searched, there were no falling stars. Too bad, he could use a wish about now.
He strode up the path to the entrance of the gazebo, squinting to make out the shapes of a couple of benches. A sturdy wicker chair beckoned. He made his way into the dark building, tested the seat for dryness, and sank down with a sigh of relief. After almost a week in the hospital his energy level was low and it hadn’t been the easiest of nights. If Lucas were here he’d tell him to quit acting like a pussy and grab a set. And Natalya would be fussing over him like a mother hen. His fists clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tsunami of grief threatening to drag him under. What was he going to do without them?
A noise woke him and his free hand went to the base of his neck to massage away the kinks from his awkward position. He must have dozed off. The shuffling sound came again from off to his right. Scott swore and straightened up.
Brilliant, Einstein.
He’d be lucky if he didn’t get rolled.
“Who’s there?”
The sudden silence grew even more oppressive. He rose, careful not to betray any weakness to his, as yet, unseen opponent, even though his side was on fire from sitting too long. A glimmer of white gave the other guy’s position away. Scott moved as unobtrusively as he could to place the heavy wicker chair between them as a sort of bulwark.
“Look, I don’t have much cash but you can take what’s here.” He pulled his wallet free and flung a few dollars down on the seat. “Here. Take it.” He tensed, preparing to protect himself against an attack.
The white moved up and down and the air stirred with the unmistakable sound of wings.
What the…? His pulse kicked up a gear and his hands grew clammy.
An apparition stepped forward into a patch of moonlight and Scott’s mouth dropped open.
“Hey, buddy.”
Lucas stood before him with a crooked grin and a huge motherfuckin’ set of wings on his back.
Chapter 11
M ichael Crenshaw stood inside the door of his home, closed his eyes, and just breathed. He could still smell the bubblegum scent that always clung to his youngest son’s skin. He even fancied he could hear his oldest boy giggling as Mike threw him over his
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