A Subtle Breeze by Bailey Bradford (best books to read in life .txt) 📗

The back door squeaked as Brendon ran out and down the porch, papers that Zeke guessed had to do with panic attacks, as that was what Brendon had been researching only a few minutes ago, fluttering in his hand. “Is there a problem, uh, Sheriff?”

Stenley didn’t turn away from Zeke as he acknowledged the other man. “I do have a problem with crimes going unreported in my county, yeah. It tends to piss me off a bit.”

Zeke smirked at that, because there wasn’t a damned thing the sheriff could do about what had happened here yesterday, at least not until they got the test results back from the lab. Something he was going to enjoy pointing out to the man.

“Don’t know that there was a crime committed, Sheriff. Weeds get missed, cattle die, happens all the time.” Zeke looked at Brendon, noted the worried look on his face as he folded up those papers he had brought out with him and shoved them in his back pocket. He reached out and pulled Brendon to his side as Sheriff Stenley stepped back a few inches.

“So, if there is a crime, you gonna file a complaint and press charges this time? Even if it’s your sister who’s the perpetrator?” Stenley’s eyes were hard and cold as his voice mocked the very idea of Zeke following his suggestions.

Zeke had what he could only describe as an ‘oh, fuck!’ moment when he realized what the sheriff meant by ‘this time’. The man hadn’t been around when Zeke had been assaulted but he apparently knew about it. The old sheriff had let the whole thing drop when Zeke had refused to press charges and claimed he couldn’t remember anything about his attackers—which wasn’t exactly a lie. The men had covered their faces but Zeke thought he knew who one or two of them were regardless. By the time the former sheriff had gotten to the hospital, Eva had already been by to get her digs in about how she had managed to turn the town against him, and to let him know she wasn’t exactly pleased he was alive.

“Breathe,” Brendon murmured in his ear, apparently having felt the tightening of his body. Zeke gave a curt nod and, following his lover’s advice, took a calming breath.

“Would you want to put your own sister away, Sheriff? Could you do that?” Zeke watched the man, expecting a glimmer of understanding. What he got was nowhere even close to it.

“Damn right I would. If she’d tried to kill me and then wiped out a chunk of my livelihood, yeah. Add to that, if there was someone I cared about,” Stenley drawled out as he cut his gaze to Brendon, “and my sister posed a threat to that person…hell, yeah.”

Goddamn it, that was what Zeke worried about—something happening to Brendon. His lover squeezed his hand, locking their fingers together before facing the sheriff.

“Don’t be a dumbass, Sheriff Stenley,” Brendon demanded, causing the sheriff to jerk like someone had slapped him. “I can take care of myself, and I am pretty sure you know Zeke doesn’t care to come into town much anymore thanks to the horrible job your predecessor did, so back off. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the approach you’re taking here is the wrong one.”

Zeke thought the slight eye roll his lover threw in was a little melodramatic, but damned if the sheriff didn’t actually almost grin at the man.

“I really would put my sister in jail,” Stenley directed at Brendon. “She used to tattle all the time when we were kids.” He looked back at Zeke, any trace of humor vanishing.

“Your man has a point, Ezekiel. Sheriff Rawlins messed up several times, from what I understand. There were numerous complaints made against your sister, got a whole file of them, dated back to about a decade ago. The man never did a damned thing about them. But I’m not him.”

Zeke was only dimly aware of the sheriff’s glare. He was still stuck on the fact that other people had complained about his sister’s behavior. For so many years, he’d thought the people in McKinton just didn’t care what she did, or even that they were okay with it, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case. It was just that the former sheriff hadn’t given a rat’s ass. It was a bit much to wrap his mind around after so many years of feeling like an outcast.

“Anything else I ought to know?” Zeke grumbled, wanting the sheriff to leave so he could have some time to think and fuck Brendon. Or fuck Brendon then think. Yeah, that sounded better.

“Yeah. You’re going to file a report, and if the lab tests come back proving that the cattle weren’t deliberately killed, then we will drop it. If it was intentional, then you’re going to press forward.”

Zeke started to protest, but the sheriff cut him off.

“There are other people, Ezekiel Matthers, in this town, who are gay. What kind of example would we be setting for them if we just rolled over?”

Brendon gasped in his ear, and Zeke was hard pressed not to do the same. We? Sheriff Stenley is…what? Or did he mean it as in we, the people who could possibly affect some changes? And who were the other people? What would his sister, and people like her, do to them?

He knew he must have looked dumbfounded, but Zeke honestly didn’t know what to say. He’d never heard a word about the new sheriff’s sexual preferences. Certainly the man wouldn’t be able to let on about them, but Zeke was definitely getting the feeling the man was trying to tell him something without saying anything specific.

“What if, Ezekiel, the next person who gets the shit beat out of them in an alley doesn’t have a couple of worried siblings who come looking for him or her? What happens then?” Sheriff Stenley’s voice had