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

the windshield. A spider web of cracks appeared at the impact before Zeke’s body slid off the side of the hood onto the sidewalk.

Brendon was kneeling at Zeke’s side as soon as he landed, heart breaking at the image of his lover lying broken and bleeding. He could hear shouting in the background—a woman’s voice high-pitched and venomous, other people yelling and angry—but nothing penetrated other than Zeke. Brendon felt frantically for a pulse, watching for Zeke’s chest to rise and fall, and went boneless with relief when he found both, weak as they were.

Blood covered Zeke’s face, pouring from gashes caused by the impact with the windshield. It was hard to tell what were cuts and what was just blood-soaked. He knew tears were streaming down his cheeks, landing on Zeke’s battered face, but he could not back away, couldn’t stop himself from lifting Zeke’s head into his lap and holding him to his chest.

“You’ll be okay, Zeke, you will,” Brendon murmured, trying to reassure himself as well as his lover. “Help will be here soon, baby, I promise.”

Still, he jumped when strong hands landed on his shoulders, squeezing before someone knelt down beside him. Brendon tore his gaze from Zeke long enough to meet the sympathetic gaze of a dark-haired man wearing a paramedic uniform.

“You need to let us help him,” the man said calmly, waiting for Brendon to step back. Letting go of Zeke and moving away was the hardest thing Brendon had ever done, but he knew the paramedics had to take over. He scooted back and was helped to his feet by a pair of men who held him up when he would have stumbled. Brendon looked out over the gathering crowd, then at the men who were helping him remain upright. What he saw astounded him—looks of concern and regret, even tears, on the faces of those surrounding him and Zeke. He felt humbled and terrified all at once, his head spinning as he tried to take it all in.

“Brendon.” The voice behind him startled him out of his confusion as he turned to face the speaker. Sheriff Stenley stood behind him, shoulders slumped and anger vibrating off him. Brendon stepped away from the men beside him and walked over to the sheriff, giving him a curt nod.

Stenley looked down at the ground as though fascinated by the pavement, then met Brendon’s gaze. A tic in the sheriff’s jaw caught Brendon’s attention as he waited to hear what the man had to say. God help him, if they let that bitch get away, someone was going down. Stenley must have read the look on Brendon’s face, because he shook his head and pointed his thumb at his cruiser.

“She’s in the back, Brendon, cuffed and waiting to go for attempted murder, and tack on a list of hate crimes with the shit she was spewing.”

Brendon nodded, waiting for the rest, though it was all he could do not to go to the sheriff’s cruiser and rip Eva’s head off. Stenley cleared his throat before continuing.

“You should know that Eva’s husband John was in the car with her, giving orders, if what that woman is saying is true. That damned preacher tried to run, but a group of our good citizens, including some from his own congregation, tackled him and held him for me.”

“Goddamn it!” Brendon felt like a scared, angry, hurting fool. Why hadn’t any of them thought about John Calencia being one of the intruders last night? It made sense. The man was aware of Eva’s behavior, had never censored it. Hell, the fucker most likely encouraged it!

He turned back and watched the paramedics working on Zeke, saw the stretcher being rolled up.

“Is there anything else, Stenley?” Brendon couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice, even though it wasn’t the sheriff he was furious with. It was Eva and her evil spouse.

“I’m sorry. Brendon, that’s what I want to say. I’m sorry.” Sheriff Stenley’s eyes glittered with moisture and guilt as he apologized.

Brendon nodded—he’d talk to Stenley later. He didn’t blame the sheriff for Eva being an insane bitch any more than he blamed the man for Eva’s husband being the spawn of Satan. Right now, though, his focus was on Zeke. He turned and followed the paramedics as they began wheeling the stretcher to the ambulance. When they loaded Zeke inside, the dark-haired man who had spoken to Brendon earlier turned and placed a hand on Brendon’s arm.

“We can’t let you ride back here with him.” Those understanding eyes had Brendon’s own overflowing with tears again. “But, if it’s okay with you, my brother Nick”—the paramedic gestured to someone in the crowd, calling him over—“will give you a ride right behind us to the hospital.”

Brendon looked at Nick, finding the same understanding in his eyes.

“All right, okay. Thank you.”

The brothers nodded at Brendon before Nick grabbed his elbow and led him to the truck. Nick clicked a button and unlocked the automatic doors, climbing in once he saw Brendon seated.

“Brendon, right?” Nick asked, following the ambulance onto the street. Brendon nodded, not caring if the man saw or not. He felt like he was going to shatter any second now. All he could think about, all he could see was Zeke flying into that windshield, over and over. The first sob tore out of him before he could stifle it, ripping through him and turning him inside out. Brendon tried to stop, but his body wouldn’t—couldn’t—cooperate. He didn’t care if he was making a fool of himself in front of this stranger, or if he was making the man uncomfortable. All he wanted was to have Zeke safe in his arms, unhurt and un-traumatized by this new attack.

Brendon wasn’t even aware of the truck coming to a halt until his door opened and Nick reached in to pull him out. He felt the man hesitate for a second before Nick hugged him, hard, uncaring of Zeke’s blood on Brendon’s clothes. He slapped Brendon