Page 58 of Broken

Chapter 24

Two more days went by, and Cole was losing his mind with frustration. The problems with the magic weren’t getting better—they were getting worse.

At least Riker wasn’t appearing in his dreams anymore. But he had the feeling that was because he was locked down so tight, he wasn’t letting anything through.

And if that was the reason, it meant Riker—or what passed for Riker in his mind—really was linked to the bracelets somehow. But the idea of Riker possibly being aware of everything he did with Ireland was too disgusting to contemplate.

Cole wanted to help Ireland. Hell, he wanted to use the magic. When it worked, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before—one step down from making love to Ireland.

But if he were being totally honest, he was afraid of it, too. Of opening up too much. Letting her get too close. Because that would only hurt her. Once she knew what was inside him, she wouldn’t want to be around him anymore.

And then they wouldn’t be able to do the magic anyway.

The next day after practice, Cole was out in the field, filling in yet another hole he’d made in Boomer’s testing ground.

He was about halfway through when Boomer showed up, carrying a shovel. He stuck the shovel in the ground and leaned on it.

“You should have gotten DB to do this.” DB had been in charge of today’s disastrous practice. “He could move that dirt with a flick of his little scaly finger.”

Cole knew that perfectly well. “I need the exercise,” he grunted. More like, he needed to work off his anger and frustration.

“Not getting enough exercise at night?” Boomer inquired. “With Ireland?”

“Don’t you start.” He threw another shovelful of dirt into the hole.

“Me start what? You are boinking her, aren’t you? I can tell.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mr. Romantic. I’m ‘boinking’ her. But that doesn’t…” He sighed. “Forget it.”

But Boomer, being Boomer, did not go away. “Doesn’t what? Doesn’t help with the magic?”

“Clearly not.” Cole kept shoveling. “It doesn’t help with anything.”

Boomer said, “You know, when I was first with Karisma, it was the same. I was crazy about her, but I just couldn’t… couldn’t let her in.” He paused, and then added, “I didn’t want her to know what I’d done. You know.”

Cole did know. Boomer had killed their father. The bastard had gone into a murderous rage and tried to kill Boomer when he’d finally gotten old enough and strong enough to fight back instead of taking the beatings their dad thought they deserved. For being shifters, mostly.

“Yeah,” he said. “But that wasn’t your fault. It was self-defense.”

Boomer said, “Okay, well. Here’s the thing you don’t know. Killing that shithead wasn’t the part I was most ashamed of. It was the part where I let you go off into Special Ops and let them do what they did to you, to protect me. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

Cole stopped shoveling. Boomer was right—he hadn’t known that. “I chose it,” he said. “I never blamed you. I’m the one who let them break me.”

“I blamed me,” Boomer said. “And I didn’t want Karisma to see that I was the kind of person who would do that. I figured she wouldn’t love me anymore. Who would?”

“But she did.”

“Exactly my point, Bro.”

Cole said patiently, “But Karisma is your mate. That’s different.”

Boomer rolled his eyes so hard, for a minute Cole thought they would get stuck. “You’re trying to tell me that Ireland isn’t your mate? Why else would you be so twisted up about her? Why else would it matter so much what she thinks of you, that you can’t even let down your barriers enough to do these magic spells, in case she might see who you really are?”

No. That wasn’t what it was. Ireland didn’t feel that way about him. She couldn’t. “It’s different for you,” was all he said.

“Bullshit,” Boomer said. “It’s the same. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to let her in.”

He took his shirt off, grabbed his shovel, and started shoveling dirt with his brother.