A Subtle Breeze, Bailey Bradford [year 2 reading books .txt] 📗

and press against his back. Hands linked, they rose, letting go of each other only long enough to slide on their jeans, all the while being gently battered by the invisible force. Zeke picked up his cell phone with his free hand and passed it to Brendon. Leading them stealthily into the bathroom, Zeke locked the door and pulled his lover behind him as Brendon sent off a text to Sheriff Stenley. When Zeke didn’t get an immediate reply, he called him, unwilling to wait a second longer to get help. Stenley’s voice was rough with sleep but loud over the cell phone, giving both Brendon and Zeke a moment of worry.

“Get here now,” Brendon whispered, then disconnected and turned the phone’s volume off. An eerie silence fell over the house. Zeke felt his heart slam in his chest, the tell-tale signs of a panic attack setting in as his breathing started to come in spastic little jerks. Not now, he couldn’t have this happen now. Brendon wrapped his arms around Zeke, head resting on his shoulder.

“Breathe, baby, breathe with me.” The words, so soft, spoken into Zeke’s ear as hands caressed his chest, soothing and loving. Brendon drew in deeply, urging Zeke to follow his example. “Concentrate on me, Ezekiel,” he pleaded softly.

Zeke forced his muscles to relax, refusing to let the panic take over. Air reached his lungs, filling them so he no longer felt like he was suffocating. Breath for breath, he followed Brendon, trusting that his man was right, that he could do this. The creak of the bedroom door sounded loudly in Zeke’s ears, causing his breath to hitch for a second before resuming. That sound finished what Brendon had set out to do—the panic attack vanished and fury took its place.

Enough. He’d had enough of being afraid, of feeling hunted and hated. It was time for this to end. Zeke started to step forward, only to find he was caught tight in Brendon’s grip. He turned to glare at his lover, meeting his eyes.

“No, Zeke. If she has a weapon, a gun, we could both be killed. Both of us.” Brendon’s eyes bored into his just as the words he spoke almost stopped Zeke’s heart.

He hadn’t thought of that, of Brendon being hurt, possibly…worse, even. What kind of idiot was he? Zeke’s chin dropped to his chest just as a loud thump came from the bedroom. Guess his sister hadn’t seen the footlocker he kept at the base of the bed. That thought had his lips tilting up despite their precarious situation. The sound of muted footsteps approaching the door knocked the amusement right out of him. Another sound sent a chill through Zeke—a second set of footsteps. The significance of those unexpected sounds had Zeke pushing Brendon tight behind him up against the bathroom cabinet. Brendon wasn’t happy about it, judging by the squirming the man was doing, but he was wise enough to know he couldn’t do much about his situation without letting the intruders know exactly where they were. Zeke knew, however, that the bruising grip Brendon had on his upper arm was a promise of retaliation for later. That was fine with him—he’d be pretty pissed if their positions were reversed.

The quiet turning of the doorknob almost caused Zeke’s heart to stop. For one frightening moment, Zeke thought maybe he hadn’t locked the door even, though he knew he had. He shook his head to push away the irrational doubt and fear. There would be no giving in to it, or to panic, not now. When the knob stopped turning, proving the door was locked to everyone on both sides of it, Zeke heard what he thought were muffled voices coming from his room. Yes, he thought, now you know that we know you’re out there, fuckers. He stood perfectly still, not willing to chance Brendon being shot or injured in any way. The assault he was expecting on the door didn’t come, though. Instead, there were slight thuds that eventually filtered through his brain as sounds of retreat.

Zeke dove for the door, intending to put an end to this harassment. He wanted it over and done with so he and Brendon could get on with their lives. Brendon’s hand, still clamped around Zeke’s upper arm, prevented him from grabbing the doorknob and following the intruders. He tried to spin around and break Brendon’s grip, but the man was surprisingly strong, locking both arms around Zeke to hold him in place.

“I don’t think so, love.” Brendon’s voice carried a hint of anger. “Not until we get the all-clear from Sheriff Stenley. I know you heard two sets of footsteps, just like I did. It could be a trap—lead us out, jump us, and since neither one of us can outrun a bullet, we both wait right here. You better understand something, Zeke. Where you go, I go. We stay together.”

“Damn it, Brendon.” Zeke slumped against his lover, knowing he was right. “I wasn’t going to confront them, just slip out and try to determine for sure who it was.” He wouldn’t endanger Brendon any more than he already had by forcing a confrontation. Opening the bathroom door and giving chase when he didn’t even know how many intruders there were—what if there were more than the two they’d heard? Added to that, he and Brendon had no way of knowing what manner of weapons were waiting for them through that door. Zeke did know Brendon was right—again. Trying to follow whoever was in the house was every bit as foolish as confronting them. He would have to stop letting his temper overrule his common sense.

“Fine. Fine, you’re right. I won’t touch the damned doorknob.” Brendon muttered a few choice words Zeke felt him relax his hold. Stepping back, he pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and fired off a text message, no doubt to Stenley, giving the sheriff an update. That done, he stepped back up to Zeke