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

kid was, it’d take patience and a willingness to prove oneself to earn Darren’s trust. Patience wasn’t exactly Severo’s best virtue—hell, it wasn’t even on his list of virtues—and God knew Laine wasn’t much better. But something was going on with the kid, and it went against everything Laine believed to be true about himself to sit back and leave Darren alone.

The kid was so skittish it was heart-breaking, really, and his brown eyes always seemed to hold some hidden pain. Neither he nor Severo could bear to see Darren hurting any more. They’d been patient, for them anyway, and Severo had tried to lure Darren out of his shell all for naught.

As for him, well, the kid wouldn’t even look at him if he didn’t have to. That made Laine suspicious, but he just didn’t get the feeling the kid was a criminal. More that whatever had happened to him, it had destroyed something inside Darren. Whether it was something violent in his past, or some distant sin he was punishing himself for, there was just something about the kid that cried out to belong.

Besides, if Darren was some sort of fugitive, his fingerprints didn’t show in the system. Laine had snuck out a glass Darren had handled a while back and ran his prints. Nothing had turned up. A few phone calls to other cops he’d known before moving to McKinton and a search under the name Darren Brown hadn’t turned up anyone on the wanted list. So, not a fugitive then, or at least not a known one, and asking for clarification there would be a mistake. If he did, Laine was certain Virginia would find herself short a waiter in the blink of an eye. And Laine wouldn’t know any more about Darren than he had before.

Laine palmed the chain and lock in one hand and hefted the bike over his shoulder with the other. The bike was old, obviously used and, Laine was sure, had once belonged to Ben March before he’d sold it. Still, it was in good shape from what Laine could tell, clean and all that. He set the bike on its side in the bed of the truck and dropped the chain and lock down beside it.

When he got in the truck he wasn’t the least surprised to find Darren pretending to be asleep and Severo pouting. Laine grinned and winked at his lover, chuckling softly when Severo’s pout switch to a glower directed at him. Laine gave himself a moment to appreciate the handsome man in the front seat with him, Severo’s sharp cheek bones and full lips making Laine’s heart thud erratically. Damn, he loved this man!

Severo blinked then grinned at him, almost as if he’d read Laine’s thoughts. He probably had, Laine realized, or at least his expression. It wouldn’t have surprised him at all to find out he glowed when that rush of love filled him. It felt like it seeped out of his pores, so surely it must show in his eyes, his mouth as it tipped into a happy grin.

And if it didn’t, there was always a chance their friendly spirit, Conner, was sharing the info with Severo. Severo could, after all, converse with the dead, and Conner was never too far away. Laine’s hair was ruffled which answered the question—yes, Conner was here, and he must have been feeling playful which sometimes didn’t bode well for Laine. Conner didn’t always know when to quit.

Sure enough Laine felt a smack to the back of his head and Severo burst out in a fit of giggles. He stopped suddenly, the sound ending mid giggle. Laine looked at Severo and found his lover pale, his eyes wide and his stare distant. Laine’s stomach dipped and churned. Conner or some spirit was talking and Severo was listening, his lips moving, forming silent words. Then he spoke, and Laine shuddered at the single word, a name.

“Stefan.”

Stefan squealed with delight! It worked, it worked! Well, not as much as he’d hoped, but he’d gotten through! Something had drawn him to the sexy little dark-haired guy, and after hours of trying, Stefan had gotten the man to hear him! True, all he’d managed was his name, but still! It was more than he’d expected! Damn, he wished he could clap his hands! He could, sort of, but there was no noise and that just wasn’t the same.

A flicker of awareness in his consciousness—or whatever it was that made him believe he was alert, what did he know?—distracted Stefan from the joy of his new-found discovery. Someone was calling him. It scared him. No one knew his name now, no one besides the dark-haired guy and Darren. Maybe the big guy who terrified Stefan, because those silvery eyes were just… They saw too much. Stefan didn’t blame Darren for being afraid of the man. He didn’t seem physically dangerous, Stefan didn’t think, but he’d been wrong before and look at what that had got him! Dead, dead dead dead dead. Which wasn’t so bad, except it was, because he couldn’t talk to Darren.

Stefan tried to focus his vision, wanting to see Darren again. Even if he didn’t have a heart any more, just looking at Darren’s beautiful face made Stefan all…fluttery. Which was funny, actually. About all he could do was flutter, but this, the way Darren made him feel, it was different, more internal than—

Stefan’s rambling thoughts skittered to a halt. Someone was calling him. He had vague memories of movies about ghosts being vanished, sent back to…wherever. Could that really happen? He heard his name again and Stefan discovered that, dead or not, he could absolutely still be afraid of being hurt, even if he didn’t have a body.

Chapter Three

It was just after two in the morning when Lee Bausch took the key card from the motel clerk and thanked the man before leaving the office. God, he was so tired from driving, and he had to