Aftermath by Bailey Bradford (most important books of all time txt) 📗

Lee had been getting grilled by Laine. If this kept up, he was going to have to beat off several times a day, like he had when he’d first discovered how much fun it was to do so.

Then he thought of Darren as Lee had last seen him and Lee’s erection began going soft immediately. He’d thought Darren might have felt guilty for not being there when Stefan had died, that maybe that was why Darren had left Jackson right after Stefan’s funeral. Darren probably thought Stefan would still be alive if Darren had been there, and maybe he would, but Lee doubted it. Stefan’s last letter had hinted that he’d made a new friend and felt bad about spending less time with Darren.

Lee wanted to know who that new friend had been and whether he—which was about all Lee knew about the mysterious friend, that he was male—knew anything about Stefan’s death. And whether it’d been an accident or not, because while it was true enough that Stefan had fallen into Mercer’s Ravine, it was equally true that Stefan had confided his fear of heights to Lee more than once—and probably to Darren as well. So why would Stefan have been anywhere near such a steep drop? Would Darren know, or had Stefan and Darren’s friendship already become distanced by whatever secret friend Stefan had made?

Lee needed to know because not knowing was driving him insane. The idea that someone could have killed Stefan and got away with it wouldn’t leave him alone, hadn’t since Lee had learned of the manner of Stefan’s death. Darren was the last possible lead Lee could think of, since the people he’d asked in Jackson all claimed Darren was Stefan’s only friend. Lee knew different, but he’d kept Stefan’s last confidences to himself.

Stefan didn’t know what he’d missed, but something seemed to have happened. Darren had hickeys on his neck—Stefan knew what those were, he’d had one himself before he died, but he didn’t like to think about how that mark had ended up on him. He wished someone had noticed, though, once his body had been found. Maybe they had and just thought it was a bruise. He’d hit the bottom of the ravine really hard.

Lee mumbled something and Stefan focused on his brother, lying on the bed wearing nothing but a towel and a scowl. Stefan thought it was kind of funny, not just because it rhymed, but because Lee was fixing to find himself with company. Well, other company. It wasn’t like Lee knew Stefan was here. Stefan wished he did. He wished he could hug Lee and Darren both, tell them he was sorry for hurting them because he had been keeping a secret that had got him killed.

A knock on the door startled Lee. Stefan had known it was coming. Should he stay? He wanted to know what his two favorite people were going to talk about, but when Lee walked over and opened the door, the towel riding low on his hips even though he held it with his hand, Darren’s expression did funny things to Stefan. He knew that look on Darren’s face—Stefan had often stared at his best friend like that when he knew Darren wasn’t watching him. Then Stefan had looked at someone else, maybe not exactly like that, but… Look how that had ended.

But Lee wouldn’t hurt Darren, not ever, and Darren was probably the best person Stefan had ever known. Still, he wasn’t sure what to do. Stefan’s agitation increased as the two men stared at each other. The curtains fluttered and one of the chairs at the small table tipped backwards, and Lee and Darren both jumped, Darren saying something as he stepped inside to stare at the mess Stefan had accidentally made.

He should go, definitely. What if he got upset and something flew and hit Lee or Darren? He could hurt them and he’d never want to do that. Some of the others like him had been working with him—once he’d quit freaking out when they tried to talk to him—and tried to show him how to control the weird stuff he could make happen. It wasn’t bad when he wanted it to happen, like trying to get attention by slamming Darren’s door. Well, that hadn’t turned out so well, so maybe he needed to learn how to control himself as well as…whatever it was he could do.

Maybe that was what Conner had been trying to tell him. Stefan hadn’t understood all the talk about ‘actions reflecting emotions’, but now he thought he might. With one last look at the two men who’d loved him, Stefan floated away to find his new friend Conner.

“What happened?” Darren stepped inside and stared at the chair. “How’d that get knocked over?” He’d gone stupid with lust when Lee had opened the door wearing nothing but a towel, but seeing the curtains whip out until they were parallel with the floor had started to douse the desire. The chair shooting backwards before slamming onto its back had replaced the arousal with something very close to fear.

Darren glanced at Lee and didn’t feel any better. His tanned skin was nearly as white as Darren’s. Darren’s fear from the creepy event transferred to Lee. He cautiously put his hand on Lee’s biceps. The muscle was hard as a rock and the skin covering it felt chilled under Darren’s palm.

“Lee?”

Lee shook his head as if clearing his thoughts then looked at Darren. “I don’t know what that was. I keep trying to convince myself a mouse tipped the chair over, but that doesn’t explain how the chair flew back a good six feet first, or why the curtains did that weird shit.”

Darren bet Severo could explain it, which was a scary thought. There had to be more than a little truth to the rumors claiming Severo talked with spirits. Darren might have shrugged it off before, but believing in spirits wasn’t so difficult after