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

“You take these,” Virginia said, handing him the bottle. He took them reflexively, his protest buried under the commanding look she gave him. “And you sit in here and ice that knot for a few minutes. I can handle the tables for a bit.” She placed an ice pack in his other hand and with a curt nod, turned and left him in the office.

Darren frowned at both items in his hands before pocketing the medicine. He gingerly pressed the ice pack to his chin, biting his lower lip against a groan that threatened to slip free. The cold was almost as bad as the pain, and the treatment felt more like punishment though he knew it wasn’t. Darren slumped in the chair and closed his eyes, replaying the morning’s events in his mind. The sensation of being watched was definitely unsettling, but the back door…that continued to trouble him. If it had been a person, it must have been a vagrant who’d panicked and fled upon learning the house wasn’t empty. He certainly couldn’t think of a single person who’d give a darn about where he was.

It wasn’t like he was special, surely not worth the trouble it would take to find him. After over two years of being homeless, alone, nobody probably could find him. And who was left to? His mother was gone—she’d passed away in her sleep shortly before Darren had screwed up and lost the only other person in his life who had loved him. So yeah, he must have forgotten to lock up, and either a homeless person or critter had tried to make themselves welcome. They’d probably been just as scared as he had.

Well, tonight he’d make sure the house was locked up, doing it consciously instead of by rote. Maybe he’d even set something against the doors, some alarm system of cans or something that would make a lot of noise if disturbed. Paranoid or not, he’d rest easier knowing he’d have warning if someone tried to get in.

Plan in place, Darren took the pack off his chin and stood. He tossed the ice pack down then picked up the tray it lay on. It was past time for him to be working, stupid self-inflicted injury or not. He’d spent enough time sitting on his butt worrying about imagined threats. If his hands trembled slightly and that uneasy feeling skittered down his spine again, well, that was only proof he was imagining things again. There was nobody here in the office except him. He was just being paranoid.

Stefan watched Darren stand and gather the tray, noting the shudder that rippled through Darren’s body. Did Darren know he was here? Was it possible? Stefan was afraid to hope. He’d managed to do something this morning he hadn’t known he could, so maybe he was right to have a little hope. Granted, he hadn’t done what he’d wanted to, or rather, Darren hadn’t reacted as Stefan had wished. He hadn’t meant to terrify his friend—and he certainly hadn’t meant for Darren to get hurt. Darren was hurting too much already.

Although, really, what had he been thinking, unlocking the back doors and slapping the screen like that? Stefan groaned silently, frustration flickering through him. Sometimes his thinking got all muddled, and something that seemed like a good idea turned out to be…not. This morning had, apparently, been one of those times. Stefan couldn’t remember what the point was, other than to get Darren’s attention. He’d only just… Stefan frowned, or thought he did, it was hard to tell now. He sensed something familiar, something—no, someone?

If he could just remember, damn it! Groaning as his mind swirled into a mass of confused images and thoughts, Stefan left the office, following the tantalizing hints of a familiar presence. Whatever he’d been worried about seconds before could wait for just a bit longer.

Chapter Two

Drained didn’t even begin to describe how Darren felt by the time his shift ended. The pervasive feeling of being watched had been with him off and on all day, which wasn’t surprising, given his appearance. Just about everyone who’d come into the café had asked him about the bruised lump on his face.

That had stressed Darren out so much Virginia had finally pulled him from waiting tables and had sent him into the kitchen to help the cook and to wash dishes. His mumbled answers to those enquiring about his injury had sapped Darren dry. Not the most talkative of people in the best situations, he’d practically frozen in place on more than one occasion when asked how he’d gotten hurt.

The last time was the one that had got him sent to the kitchen. Darren had found himself pinned by Sheriff Laine’s eerie silver gaze as his lover, Severo, had peppered Darren with questions. If Virginia hadn’t come out and rescued him, Darren knew he’d have probably taken off for good. He just couldn’t handle such intense attention. Maybe he should move on, find somewhere he could blend in, a big city like Dallas or Fort Worth, or even further away. Somewhere no one would truly depend on him—

“Stop frowning,” Virginia said.

Darren glanced up from the stack of dishes he was holding. He hadn’t heard Virginia come into the kitchen, and Darren figured the only reason he hadn’t startled and dropped the plates was because he was too exhausted to expend the energy. Darren put the plates away and wiped the frown from his face before turning to Virginia. She studied him for a moment then gestured him closer.

“That doesn’t look any better.” Virginia tipped her head back and clucked. “More colorful. That’s a right pretty shade of purple you got going on there. Did you take more pain medicine?”

Darren glanced away as he stuttered, “No, ma’am, I forgot.”

Virginia snorted and swatted his arm. “Take some now, then again in six hours. If you don’t think you can remember that, I’ll make you