Zack - M. Malone Page 0,1

has always tried to respect our boundaries. Even when it’s hard for her to do.

“He’s doing a little better.” I lie, hoping it will put her mind at ease. “Now that Sasha is back, maybe he’ll stop being difficult and just take his pain pills.”

She pulls me into a hug. “Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t know what we would have done without you and Sasha these past few weeks.”

Her head barely grazes my chin but she smells like lavender and just… home. Growing up, both Gabe and I got used to being scooped up for “snuggles” as she calls it. Technically she’s Gabe’s mom but she’s never treated me like anything other than a second son. Getting comfort from Debbie is the most natural thing in the world. It’s so weird now as an adult to realize that sometimes she needs comfort, too.

She pulls back and dabs at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I finished your laundry and Paula is out getting groceries.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

She waves that away. “We need to do something.”

I understand that completely. Anything is better than sitting around and feeling helpless.

“Anyway, I just wanted to make sure that you check on Josie from time to time.”

Just the sound of her name hits me like a physical slap. “Jo’s here? Where is she?”

I didn’t hear her come in so she must have arrived while I was trying to wrestle Gabe up the stairs.

“She’s outside. Painting.”

“Oh.” I don’t need to hear anything else. “I’ll take care of it.”

Debbie squeezes my arm before walking back down the stairs. I hear her walking around and then the slam of the front door closing and still I stand there. I’m not ready to deal with what’s next. Taking care of Gabe these past few weeks has been a challenge but even that doesn’t compare to what I’m about to do. Because as difficult as it’s been to see my brother hurt, I’ve also had to deal with the only other person who has the capacity to annoy and terrify me the same way he does.

The girl who has loved him forever.

As soon as I walk through the back door, I see her. She’s wearing faded denim coveralls and her long, dark hair is up in a messy bun. I can only see her from behind but that face is burned into my memory. The dark slash of her eyebrows, the dramatic upturned brown eyes and the pouty mouth that has fueled so many of my fantasies.

I swallow hard, disgusted by myself. Shame has been a constant companion ever since discovering that I have a bit of a thing for my brother’s old girlfriend. We’ve all been friends so long that Jo is almost like a second sibling. She’s been trailing along after Gabe for years and I’ve practically watched her grow up.

Which makes me feel even more like a pervert for suddenly noticing that Josephine Harlow is insanely hot.

I’m so busy berating myself it takes almost a full minute before the destruction around me registers. When Debbie said she was painting, I knew I needed to get down here. Josie’s an artist but she prefers photography. She only paints when she’s upset.

The first week after Gabe’s attack, she came over every day to check on him. Afterward, she’d come out here and paint. She didn’t say anything to me and she didn’t cry. She just stood in front of the easel and painted until all the light was gone. It filled me with rage and helplessness every time to see her hurting like that, knowing there was nothing I could do.

But this is… different.

Paint is everywhere. She’s covered in it and so is my brother’s backyard. It looks like she bought several cans of paint and then blew them up one by one. When she leans down and sticks her hands directly into an open canister, I realize that isn’t too far off. She’s painting but she’s doing it in the most haphazard way possible, flinging it at the canvas in front of her with quick, angry swipes.

“I can really see the emotion in your work.”

Josie freezes mid-swing and the paint on her hands lands with a soft plop in the grass.

“Oh, hey.” She looks down at her hands like she isn’t sure where all the paint came from. Her cheeks flush pink and she sticks her hands in her pockets. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to wonder who the hell is