Destiny Calls by Samantha Wayland (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📗

willing to let him sacrifice his career. Not because he was gay. But because Patrick was one of their own.

As he sat down at the table across from a wary-looking Bobby, Brandon wondered for a moment if perhaps he and Patrick hadn"t given their friends and colleagues enough benefit of the doubt. In the face of losing Patrick, Brandon wondered why he"d ever cared what any of them thought anyway.

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“Well, Bobby, have you heard?”

Bobby looked suspicious. “Heard what?”

“Your buddies grabbed my friend Patrick.”

“They did?” he asked, his face blooming into a smile that sent Brandon"s rage soaring. He ruthlessly crushed it down and remained passive in his seat.

“Yes, they did. You don"t seem surprised.”

Bobby sat mute, his face shining with happiness, as if he"d accomplished a great feat. Perhaps, Brandon thought, it had been their aim all along to make him suffer.

Because if that was the case, they were doing a really bang-up job.

“Who the hell do you work for?” Brandon demanded.

At this, Bobby blinked. “God.”

“What?”

“I do God"s work. As all righteous men do.” He shrugged. “But you wouldn"t know, would you? Your queer notions have damned you to hell for all eternity.” Ignore that. He pushed on.

“And what does God want with Patrick? What did he ever do?” he asked, his guts clenching.

“He is like you! He aides you, is a friend to you, and you are an abomination, a sinner, a blight on all mankind.”

Brandon battled back his instinctive response. It was never nice to be called a blight, even if he didn"t give a shit what this asshole thought of him. He stood slowly, giving himself time to calm so his tone would remain even. “Why do you care how others live their lives? Who their friends are?”

“I"m a Christian! I am duty-bound to protect the innocent from you!”

“And by kidnapping Patrick, he"s protected from me?” Brandon couldn"t determine if his anger had escalated to the point that he couldn"t think straight, or if this whack-job wasn"t making one damn bit of sense.

“No! People like you, like this Patrick, you cannot be allowed to police anyone. You cannot be allowed to remain in positions where you can judge others. You have no moral foundation. No compass to lead you to God, because you have turned your back on The Father. If you cannot find what little good is left in your black souls and resign, then we will remove you. We will do our civic duty and tear you out like the cancer you are. And by doing so, we protect all of this city.” Brandon stood stunned, momentarily overwhelmed by the hatred blazing from this man"s eyes, spewing from his mouth. They were targeting gay cops?

Bobby Wilkinson was fucking crazy. And his friends were going to kill Patrick.

He reached out without thinking, one hand grasping Bobby"s shirt front and hauling him to his feet, the other cocked back, prepared to do whatever it took to find Patrick.

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His guts were knotted up, his anger so encompassing his skin felt hot and tight. He wanted to hurt this man. Wanted to make him suffer as he suffered. To make him tell him where Patrick was being held. His mind screamed with the need to get to Patrick, the fury clenching his fist, ready to pound it out of Bobby Wilkinson.

He didn"t flinch when someone started banging on the mirror behind him.

He was prepared to cross a line he"d never been over, never even contemplated crossing before today. His lieutenant was no doubt the one calling him from the room, trying to save what was left of his job.

He looked down at Bobby"s face, glowing with the righteous delusion that Brandon was only acting to form, being the broken man this zealot"s eyes expected to see.

With a sigh, he let Bobby go.

It wasn"t that it wouldn"t be worth it. It was that it wouldn"t work. He"d never tell Brandon anything.

Everyone in the observation room stood with their mouths hanging open and their eyes on Destiny.

Okay, so maybe she shouldn"t have knocked on the window like that. It probably was overstepping her bounds, what with her being the only civilian in the room, but she didn"t care. They had more important priorities then proper protocol. And if they were paying attention, they would see Brandon"s boss and Captain Sullivan both looked mildly relieved that she"d interrupted Brandon, even if they too looked shocked she"d done what they hadn"t been willing to do themselves.

Everyone wanted Patrick safe and the rest of them weren"t big scary in love with him. Hell of a time for her to figure it out.

Sitting in the back seat of her car on the way to the station, she"d tried to calm herself, but all she had been able to think about was what would happen if she lost Patrick or Brandon.

She"d always assumed they"d be there. Always believed that they"d be her shoulder to cry on, her best friends. She"d foolishly never even imagined a world without them close. They were her family. The ones that would stay with her, stand by her, forever.

She, the commitment-phobe, had committed herself to them half a lifetime ago.

They"d never let her down. She"d do the same for them.

If she got a chance.

She watched Brandon move away from Bobby Wilkinson. His rage was an almost tangible thing. Gone was his perfectly passive face with the practiced façade and endless diplomacy. His control was shattered.

She understood completely. But she also knew that if Brandon laid a hand on Bobby Wilkinson, Bobby would only feel righteous.

Hadn"t Bobby been willing to let himself bleed to death rather than allow Brandon to come to his aide after she"d shot him? And how far would the people in this room 181

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really let Brandon go before they put a stop to it? Not far enough to break Bobby Wilkinson, she"d bet, but far enough to damage Brandon"s soul.

She wouldn"t let him do that.

Brandon came through the door, closing it quietly