The Guardian (Mended Souls Book 1) Read Online Free

“What did you just call me?” he demanded.
    A weirdly familiar set of eyes again met his in the mirror. Then the cabbie pointed out the front window at the imposing cement structure of the Medical Examiner’s office.
    “I just said we’re here, man. This the place you wanted?” He leaned forward to stop the meter and Scott’s gaze landed on the cross gently swaying from a silk tassel below the mirror. A warm sensation flowed into his belly and washed all his anxieties aside. He must have heard the man wrong.
    “This is it. What do I owe ya?” Scott lifted his hip and extracted the wallet from his back pocket, careful not to jar the cast or his ribs.
    “Twenty will do. Are you sure you got the right place? This is the morgue, ya know.”
    Scott winced. His mouth straightened into a hard line. “I’m well aware of where we are, yes.” He passed the cash over the seat and opened his door. “I’ll be about an hour. Can you come back and pick me up? There’s an extra fifty in it, if you do.”
    He climbed out of the car without waiting for a reply and slammed the door. Frustration was eating a hole at his insides. He hated when something was there, skirting the edges of his mind, but not allowing him to figure it out. Lucas had given him a hard time more than once for his lack of patience. He’d always been mercurial though; that’s why the two of them had meshed so well. Lucas was the calming brook, while he’d been more like the raging rapids in their relationship. The whole carefree persona he carefully portrayed for the benefit of the public was just that, a guise.
    He watched the taxi until its taillights disappeared around the corner, then reluctantly limped toward the double glass doors lit by a yellowish glow from recessed lighting. The breeze ruffled his hair and snuck past the collar of his jacket to send a chill down his spine. He grimaced and yanked the loose side of the coat closer around his body. He’d been lucky that the t-shirt he’d been wearing at the time of the accident was loose enough to slide his arm through with the cast, but there was no way his coat would fit unless he sliced it, and he’d refused to do that. The Blue Jays jacket came from one of the last baseball games the two friends had attended together. They’d shared a love of the sport and had a friendly rivalry going every year on who would make the finals. Lucas was a White Sox fan all the way, so he’d gone out in left field and chosen the Jays as a sure way to rile his buddy. The game they’d attended; Sox won seven-six, and Lucas had crowed about it all the way home. The asshole.
    He swallowed the lump in his throat and tugged on the door, but it didn’t budge. He rattled it a couple more times before he noticed the hours of operation on the side window; eight-thirty to four-thirty, Monday to Friday. Well, that figured. It was—he checked his watch—ten p.m. and Friday night to boot.
    He sighed, relieved and frustrated in equal measure. Now he had two more days to wait before he could say a final farewell to his buddy, at least in private. The funeral was sure to bring a crowd, Lucas was—had been—a star. And Natalya… a shudder shook his frame. His little sister… gone. He couldn’t imagine never seeing her sparkling blue eyes as she teased the hell out of him again. He and Lucas had always protected her, kept her safe. They’d never wanted her to go through the same pain they had.
    Head suddenly too heavy for his shoulders, he turned away from the darkened building and wandered down the sidewalk. Guess he had some time to kill before the cab came back. At least it was quiet here, away from the downtown core and prying eyes. The tension slowly eased as the meds kicked in and dulled the pain so he could finally breathe without it feeling as though his lungs were getting squashed. He’d had bruised ribs before, but the ache from these two cracked ones made that seem like a holiday. At least he could feel the