Grady (The McCade Dragon #3)(65)

 

"I experienced my dragon last week. This new thing, being stronger, did you know that it has other perks as well?" Grady asked him what sort of perks. Instead of answering him, Vance pulled a long switchblade from his boot and cut it across his palm. The blood seeped, but only for a second before it disappeared with the cut. "I can cut myself just about anywhere and it heals that fast. And here is something really freaky, I was shot and the bullet popped right out of my wound."

 

"Wound where?" Vance didn't say anything, so Grady looked. "Christ, Vance. You need to stay safer for us. I don't know what I'd do without you."

 

"Live. Go on. I would. It's not like I'm here much. Would anyone even care?" It hurt him, all the way to his core, to hear his bother say something like that. "Anyway, I have a few things I need for you to do for me. My house is being set up for security, and I'd like for you to do the computer work. I have some connections that I want you to link it to, and nowhere else."

 

"I can do that. Also, I picked up your mail yesterday. You should really do something about having it done on a regular basis. Milly called when it was overflowing. I can pick it up for you when I get mine if you want. I don't think she'll care if I ask for it." He said he'd give him a key before he left. "When does the work begin?"

 

"Last week. I have several different crews working on it; no one knows what the other is doing in this." He didn't ask him why, but assumed that Vance wouldn't tell him anyway. "I also have some things being delivered. Guns and such. Will you store them until I return again?"

 

"You're going to be here for a month, though, right?" He said he was. "Can you tell me why this time? Are you hurt?"

 

"No. Not hurt." Grady nodded when his brother said no more. "I'm doing this because I'm good at what I do, Grady. Not for any kind of glory or some shit like that."

 

"Since I have no idea what you do, I'll assume you're right. But we miss you." Vance said nothing. "The jewelry, it's going to be complete soon. You know that will involve you, don't you?"

 

"If it does then we're all fucked. I'm not going to be a part of the McCades finding a new bride group. I can't do that." Grady asked him why. Again without answering, he stood up and pulled his shirt off his head. He saw things on his brother's body that terrified him in their violence. "I'm not the kind of man that a woman, no matter what she says, can stand to look at."

 

"Vance, I'm so sorry." He was too. Not just for the pain that his brother had endured when he'd been cut, stabbed, and what appeared to be shot to fuck on his body, but also the numerous scars that he was sure he couldn't see. Vance had led a very hard and difficult life.

 

After he left, telling him that he'd be at his house, Grady made his way to work. He was going to show off his dragon tonight to Harper. Take her on a small ride as well. He was excited for that, but also nervous. He'd never flown before, not even in a plane. And he was afraid of hurting her by dropping her or something.

 

His store was open by the time he got there. Opal had agreed to stay on as his assistant manager, so that part was nice. Kurt was still pissed off at him about Opal, but he knew that he'd come around sooner or later. Opal and her little girls were living in the house that Kurt had purchased, so he knew that he'd made some headway in convincing her to let him care for her. Life, he knew, was about to get very interesting for Kurt and Opal.

 

 

 

        

          

        

         

 

He was just sitting down at his desk when he closed his eyes to center himself. The image that popped into his head nearly had him jumping up and running. Instead, he sat very still and watched as each detail burned itself into his mind.

 

A fire. A shooting. There was blood everywhere, and the sounds of screaming. He hadn't found the source of it as yet, but he watched as things played out in his head. As he reached blindly for a pen, he started writing down some of the people he could see. Not their names-he didn't know them-but what they looked like, marks on their bodies that he could recognize later if need be.

 

Then he saw her, the woman. She was dressed in a long gown, her hair long since fallen from whatever style she'd had it in. There were fire trucks pulling into where she was, police were shouting at someone behind her. As she moved from body to body, her dress becoming more stained, he saw her face, the grim determination that she had.

 

She's a doctor. He told Harper that she was correct, he thought. Where is that? I've never seen that house before.