“The official report is inconclusive, because of all the flammable materials and heat-driven presses dry-cleaners use. At least, it was inconclusive until I found a letter on my desk claiming responsibility for the whole thing.” He picked the beer back up and downed the rest of it. “According the writer of said letter, it is now ‘fag season’ in Reed, Illinois. The fire this morning is just the beginning.”
“Either that, or someone is going to a hell of a lot of trouble to make it look that way. The thing is, Hal Wallace and Glen Payne have both lived in Reed most of their lives, the past twenty together as a couple. I can’t understand why someone would just decide to target them after all these years.”
Brandon ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I just don’t know, Nate. I mean, Reed has a population of just under fifteen thousand. Going by the current statistics that at least ten percent of the U.S. population is gay, and then rounding up slightly to account for Reed’s reputation of being friendly to gays and lesbians, that gives a rough estimate of about two hundred homosexuals living in or around town. Granted, a good chunk of them are probably still in the closest, but if I tried, I think I could name at least fifty gay people here in Reed who make no secret about their sexual preferences. Most of those folks have lived here for years without incident. Why now? We hadn’t had a single recorded case of gay-bashing until that first attack on you.”
Nate didn’t answer. He went up to the guest room and opened one of the suitcases he’d bought when he replaced all his clothes. He was putting in several pairs of boxer shorts when Brandon came through the door.
“I’ll keep paying my half of the expenses until Amy can find another partner for the practice. She’ll understand once she hears about the fire and the letter. As for my patients, I haven’t really been here long enough for any of them to become dependent on me.”
The tone in Brandon’s voice made Nate wince. “Now that your brother has deemed you worthy, and your folks are going along with it, you’re planning just to go crawling back to them? You think you can be one big, happy family, again?”
Nate moved towards the closet again, but Brandon blocked his path. “And what if leaving is exactly what this guy wants you to do? What if the whole purpose is to lure you out and get you alone so he can finish what he started?”
Nate did his best not to let Brandon see how much that statement hurt. “I knew you would throw that in my face sooner or later, especially the way you’ve been pawing at me like a stag in rut lately. Guess it’s a good thing I’m leaving before you implode from sexual frustration.”
Brandon was so angry now, Nate could almost feel the rage vibrating from his skin. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. I’m sure there are plenty of guys in this town who wouldn’t mind being pawed at. God forbid anyone should offend your virgin sensibilities.” He turned to go downstairs, but not before saying, “Thank God I never fucked you. I don’t relish the thought of frostbite on my dick.” Nate listened in stunned silence as Brandon’s footsteps echoed down the stairs and the front door slammed shut. He gathered the rest of his clothes and headed for his car. He had a hard time seeing through his tears.
He wanted to go back and tell Brandon the truth, that he was the one Nate was really scared for. If the guy who was after him found out about his feelings for Brandon, he would become the next logical target. In just two short weeks, Brandon had become everything to Nate. His heartbeat skipped every time the man walked into the room, much less the way he felt when Bran kissed him. He felt more at home in Bran’s house than he had anywhere else, ever. Just the thought of anything happening to Bran was more than Nate could take. Better to have Brandon hate him than to see the man he loved hurt, maybe even killed. The man he loved? God help him, but it was true. He was head-over-heels in-love with Brandon Nash.
He pulled out onto the main road with no idea where he was headed. If he was in love with Brandon, was it possible that Bran might feel the same way? And if he did, was Nate hurting him worse by walking out on him than if he stayed and they fought through this thing together? Brandon was a complete pro when it came to his job. If anyone could catch this guy, he could. What if he left and the attacks continued, anyway? By doing that, he would rob them both of the chance to be find happiness. God, he was so confused. He needed to talk to Amy. She always knew the right thing to do.
Nate approached the curve doing fifty. He put his foot on the brake to slow the car down, but nothing happened. He pushed the pedal again and his foot went all the way to the floor. He was doing fifty around a blind curve with no brakes. As soon as the car went into the bend, Nate knew he wasn’t going to make it. He closed his eyes and pictured Brandon’s face one last time before his serviceable little Honda ran off the road and crashed into a tree.
What in the hell was he doing? Brandon sat behind the desk in his office and thought back to all the things he’d said to Nate. If they gave out awards for ‘Ass of the Year’ Brandon would win by a mile. He knew Nate well enough by now to know why he was really leaving; Nate was trying to protect him.
If he was honest with himself, he knew Nate’s reasoning all along, but he’d been just frustrated enough to let his anger get the best of him. Now Nate was probably gone and Brandon would have the devil’s own time finding him. He would, though. No way was he going to let Nate get away from him. Especially not when he was taking a chunk of Brandon’s heart with him.
“The doctor. I don’t know what happened, but he slid off the road and hit a tree. Must have been going—” Brandon took off at a flat run. He got to the wrecked car just in time to see the medics pulling Nate’s prone body from the twisted metal. He had a thick gash above his left brow and his blood covered right arm was bent at an unnatural angle. What got to Bran the most, though, was the pallor of Nate’s skin. He looked lifeless, dead. Brandon took one look at the man he’d come to think of as his and did something he’d never done in his life: he fainted in a rush of blacktop and agony. Chapter 5
The last time they were at a hospital together, Brandon used his sick sense of humor to help Nate hold it all together. Now he wished someone could do the same thing for him. But even as he wished it, he knew better. All the laughter in the world couldn’t erase the fear in his soul as he sat in the surgical waiting room of Chicago General, desperate for any word of Nate.
Brandon’s fingers gingerly brushed the raw flesh of his cheek. “That’s what I get for passing out like some rookie at the scene of his first accident.” He took a sip of the scalding coffee, barely noticing when it burned his mouth.
“Under the circumstances, I think you can be excused.” Keith leaned back as far as the plastic chair would allow. “At least come down to my office and wait. The surgical staff will know to page us down there as soon as any news comes in.”
Brandon discarded the coffee cup and icepack, put his head in his hands, and nodded. “You know what the worst part is? I’ve never even told him. I kept telling myself that I couldn’t possibly be in love with him after only two weeks. Now I’m sitting here thinking that if he dies, I’ve got nothing left. Fourteen days and already I can’t imagine my life without the guy.”
“Yeah, well, if Nate makes it out of this, I’m going to have some convincing of my own to do. We had a fight right before he left. I said some really bad things, Keith. He said some stuff, too, but you know me, I always have to have the last word.” He choked on the words. “I never thought I might literally have it. What if I don’t get the chance to take it back?”
Keith hauled him to his feet and pulled him against his chest. “Stop talking like that, Bran. Dr. Lincoln’s the best surgeon we’ve got. The chief of surgery asked him to operate on Nate as a personal favor to me. The guys a complete asshole, but if anyone can repair the damage, it’s him.”
A commotion at the other end of the hall broke them apart. When Gale told Keith she was bringing in the troops, she wasn’t kidding. All of his brothers and sisters, except for Les and Randy, who were away at school, crowded into the waiting room with their various spouses. Brandon’s dad came in next, explaining that the grandparents would be there first thing in the morning, but tonight they were keeping the kids so the adults could come to the hospital. That was fine with Brandon. As much as he loved his nieces and nephews, he had about all the distractions he could handle at the moment. As it stood, twelve people, counting him and Keith, were crammed into a private waiting room built to seat eight. Brandon never knew standing-room-only could feel so good. For the first time since Nate was brought in, he felt a glimmer of hope. Amazing what family could do for a man. He made a mental note to introduce Nate to this crazy mob the minute he was able.