When the Dead Speak

by Bailey Bradford

  A soft ‘snick’ sounded from Laine’s bedroom followed by a scraping noise. Sev knew it for what it was, had slid his own bedroom window open dozens of times as a teen and slipped out into the night. Terror spurred him into action. Laine’s home was outside of town, secluded by cactus, mesquite and scrub—no one would hear him if he screamed. The urge to run was strong, but Sev squelched it, hoping to keep his steps silent as he edged closer to the kitchen. There was a door there that opened to the side of the house—if he could just make it to that door, maybe he’d have a chance.

  * * * *

  Laine was headed out on a call for vandalism when the temperature in his vehicle dropped from hellaciously hot to chill inducing. Sev! He couldn’t say how he knew it, but the man was in danger. Whoever Conner had tried to warn them about was here… No, Laine thought, he’s there, in my house, and so is my lover.

  Flipping on the lights and sirens, he jerked the steering wheel around as hard as he dared, trying to remain calm against the fear that threatened to cripple him. He was only about fifteen minutes away from home—less if he really laid on the gas. Laine had a second’s debate about whether he should call for backup, but he had sent Deputy Nixon to a rustling call that was a good forty-five minutes out.

  Hand shaking, he flipped open his cell phone. There was only one number he could think to call for help. Laine needed to warn them. He’d asked them earlier to stop by and check on Sev, but now he was torn between hoping Zeke and Brendon were still safe on the ranch and hoping they could rescue Sev if Laine wasn’t fast enough.

  * * * *

  Goosebumps covered Sev’s skin as an angry snarl came from Laine’s bedroom. It had to be obvious that Laine had been fucking his lover hours before—the scent of sex had lingered in the room, and condom wrappers and lube were easily found. And if that man touched the bed, he’d feel the warm spot Sev had just vacated…

  The utter silence seemed to confirm Sev’s worst fear as he reached for the kitchen door. Please don’t let it squeak! The knob turned quietly, the door opening with ease. Sev squeezed through as soon as the door was open enough and carefully closed it behind him. He ran full tilt toward the mesquites, one hand cupping his genitals—there were just some places he was not going to risk getting scratched—nearly stumbling with each step as his feet landed on rocks and mesquite thorns.

  As he lunged through the scrub and prickly pear, skin stinging with each encounter of the spiky stuff, Sev could just make out the sounds of sirens in the distance. Relief was doused by fear. If Laine went into that house while the intruder was still there… Sev knew Laine was the real goal, had been all along. Conner had just been a convenient way for the sick fucker to torment Laine. How angry would that psycho be that his target eluded him for years?

  The sound of an engine competed with the noise from the sirens. Sev peeked out from behind the cactus he was using for cover. A big, black Dodge pulled into the drive, dust and gravel spitting out from beneath its wheels. He squinted and thought he recognized the men in the cab. The sound of sirens grew closer as the two men threw open the truck doors, the bigger man—Zeke, he remembered—grabbing a shotgun from the gun rack. Sev stood and whistled, not wanting them to go any closer to the house and the mad man inside. When Zeke rounded on him with that rifle pointing at his chest, Sev nearly pissed himself.

  “Hey! That’s Severo!” Brendon pushed Zeke’s rifle aside and ran to Sev. Zeke was slower in moving, his cane nowhere to be seen. Brendon’s eyes widened as he took in Sev’s naked state. “Why are you naked? Jesus, you’re all scratched to hell!”

  Still cupping his privates, Sev tried to explain, but he stuttered to a stop as a masked figure shot out of the back of the house and took off running. Zeke and Brendon turned to see what he was staring at. Zeke brought the rifle up and fired, the sound of the shot temporarily blotting out the wail of the sirens.

  “Fuck!” Zeke handed the rifle to Brendon then turned to Sev. “You look like shit. Here.” Zeke pulled off his T-shirt and handed it to Sev as Laine roared to a stop a few feet away. Sev tugged the shirt on, only mildly surprised to find Laine in front of him when his head popped through the hole of the tee. Before he could even blink, strong arms were pulling, lifting and crushing him against Laine’s chest.

  The feel of those arms holding him was worth every bit of discomfort that skittered over Sev’s abraded skin. Sev wrapped his arms around Laine’s neck and held on for dear life.

  “He was here,” Sev finally managed to murmur. “I don’t think he knew I was there at first. Laine, he wants you—”

  Laine’s embrace tightened and cut off Sev’s explanation, then he was gently lowered to his feet. Pain shot up from the soles of Sev’s feet and he hissed before he could stop himself. In a split second, his world tipped, and Sev found himself, much to his embarrassment, being held in Laine’s arms, carried like a child.

  “Put me down!” He squirmed and then gasped when Laine popped him on the butt.

  “You just keep still or I’ll toss you over my shoulder—that’d be quite a show for Brendon and Zeke, huh?”

  Feeling like a fool, Sev grabbed a handful of the T-shirt and made sure his parts stayed as covered as possible while he was carried to Zeke’s truck. He tried to ignore the snickers he heard coming from the two other men, but really, this was humiliating on too many levels.

  Brendon pulled open the truck door so Laine could set Sev down. He picked up Sev’s feet one at a time, scowling at the damage to them.

  “Your feet are all torn up, baby. Going to have to dig out a few thorns.” Laine glanced over his shoulder and tipped his chin. Zeke shook his head.

  “Buddy, you are a mess—and Laine hasn’t even seen all the scratches that shirt’s hiding.” At that, Laine grabbed the edge of the shirt, intentions clear. Sev smacked at his hand, unwilling to take any more hits to his ego.

  “Stop it! I am not taking this off and sitting here bare-ass naked!”

  Brendon laughed. “We already saw everything pretty much anyway when we got here—what are you glaring at, Laine? Whose shirt do you think he’s wearing? I’ll give you a hint—it belongs to the sexy guy without a shirt on.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you saw when you pulled up! This is staying on my body until I can have some privacy!”

  Laine leaned forward until his nose was almost touching Sev’s. “I’ve got news for you, Sev, it’s only staying on your body until I take it off, understand?”

  Sev wanted to thump his stupid dick for liking that dominating tone. He started to snarl a reply when Zeke intervened.

  “Okay, I just want to point out that some nutbag was in your house, Laine. And I missed the fucker when he ran out the back door. Maybe we should deal with that before you two decide how Severo gets naked again.”

  Laine knew Zeke was right, but leaving Sev was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

  “All right, why don’t you and Brendon take Sev back to your place and—” The other three men immediately protested that idea, with Sev pointing out that Laine had just told him he couldn’t take off the damned shirt without Laine present.

  “Fine! You can take off the shirt, then!” Laine flung his hands up in the air and let them flop back at his sides. “If it will get you somewhere safe, then you can parade around butt-naked!”

  “Laine, why don’t I take Sev back and you and Zeke check out your place? You have to call this in or write up a report, right? And while I am not in a big hurry to leave Zeke here, he is a much better shot than I am.”

  Zeke rolled his eyes and popped Brendon’s hip. “Apparently not today. I didn’t even nick that bastard, but Brendon’s right.”

  Laine didn’t like it, but Sev needed tending to and it was better that somebody stay here with Laine. He nodded, a sharp jerk of his head showing his unhappiness with the whole situation, then he did what he’d been needing to do since he’d got up for work. Laine stuck his head back into the truck and kissed Sev, stealing t
he man’s surprised gasp.

  “I’m so glad that bastard didn’t hurt you, baby.”

  Sev’s eyes seemed to melt at the words, or maybe it was the kiss, Laine didn’t know. He brushed his thumb over his lover’s bottom lip then stepped back. “We’ll be there as soon as we can be.”

  “Be careful, please. I meant what I said. Conner… He told me when he showed up to warn me that I was in danger. That man wants you, Laine.”

  Laine put on a smile he wasn’t feeling. “Well, he can’t have me, and he isn’t going to take you from me, either. You ready, Zeke?”

  “Let me get my cane out of the truck. I won’t do you any good if I fall flat on my ass while some weirdo is trying to nail you.”

  “Here—” Brendon jogged around to the driver’s side and got Zeke’s cane, handing it over to his lover along with a kiss. “You two take care of each other, and only shoot the bad guy. I will be one angry man if I lose either of you.”

  “I’ll bring him back in one piece, Brendon, though I think I’ll toss one of my shirts on him first. I don’t want to have to keep looking at that flabby body.” Laine grinned and ducked back from the swing of Zeke’s cane.

  “You only wished you looked this good, old man. Now, quit drooling over my abs and let’s get this done.”

  Sparing Sev one last glance, Laine drew his weapon and led Zeke to the house. Once the truck was headed away, Laine worked his way around the outside of the house. When he found his bedroom window pried open, icy fingers of fear trailed down his spine. If Sev had been asleep… But he had been, hadn’t he, or close to it. And Conner had warned him. Laine closed his eyes and propped himself against the side of the house, ignoring Zeke’s questions about whether he was okay.

  On a shaky breath, Laine murmured his gratitude. “Thank you, Conner. You saved more than just his life, you know. I’ll get this son of a bitch, I promise.” The only reply forthcoming was a soft breeze that swept across Laine’s cheek.

  Chapter Seven

  Between Brendon’s worried looks and knowing smirks, Sev wasn’t sure what to expect from the man. Then there was the fact that he felt ridiculous sitting in the truck wearing Zeke’s shirt and nothing else…

  “So who’s Conner?”

  He hadn’t expected that. “Uh. I don’t know if it’s really my place to say…”

  “Why not? Is he a ghost or something? Zeke told me Laine was worried he was going crazy because he’s been having some paranormal fun. I know the first time I had a run in with Zeke’s mama, I nearly had a heart attack.” Brendon laughed and shook his head. “There I was, standing naked as the day I was born in the hallway outside of Zeke’s room. We’d just…uh.” Brendon’s whole face turned red.

  “I think I can figure it out, you being naked and all, but why were you out in the hall?” There was a story there, if Sev could draw it out.

  “Well”—Brendon flashed a grin at Sev, a dimple in one cheek winking—“what can I say? Zeke’s sister Enessa and my cousin Gloria had been priming me to meet Zeke for weeks, sending me pictures, telling me about this gorgeous man. By the time I actually met him, my inner slut took over. Worked out great, though. But, he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me hanging around McKinton. He’d been assaulted years before and had numerous run-ins with his bitch of a sister—not Enessa, his older sister Eva. Anyway, he kind of got upset when I told him I was staying for the summer at the very least, and stomped off to his room, all self-righteous and snarly. It was kind of cute…” Brendon paused, thinking it over. “Okay, maybe not right then. So I was trying to figure out what to do when this scent appeared, then something nudged my shoulder. I couldn’t get into Zeke’s room soon enough, let me tell you!”

  Sev gave Brendon a minute to make sure he was done talking. When nothing else was said, he figured it was safe to speak.

  “So you and Zeke don’t have a problem believing in ghosts, then?”

  Brendon laughed so hard he had to wipe his eyes. “I wouldn’t say we have a problem believing in them at all, but I sure have a problem with when his mama pops in, like when I’m in the buff or when we’re…you know.”

  Sev felt his eyebrows creeping up his forehead. “When you’re… You mean she’s been there when you two…when you have sex?” Suddenly, Sev’s mortification at being carried and wearing only a T-shirt didn’t seem half so bad. The idea of anyone’s mom popping in while he was fucking was enough to make him swear off sex. Almost.

  “We’d just finished, actually, but were still, uhm, engaged, if you will.”

  “Shit! I can just hear them, you know, like a buzzing in my head at first unless I push them out. I can’t imagine what my lover’s mom would have to say if…” The very thought had him shaking off the hinky feeling. “God, that’s messed up.”

  Brendon turned down a dirt road and winked at Sev. “Yeah. I didn’t handle it well, but you hear them? That I couldn’t handle at all.”

  “You learn to cope, build up a wall in your mind to keep them out for the most part. Some are too insistent—if that’s the case, you need to listen. When the dead speak, whether you want to or not, you need to hear what they have to say—again, if they won’t leave you alone. It’s almost always something of major importance, a message that needs to be passed along or something like that.” Listening to the dead had become Sev’s livelihood, a point that wasn’t lost on him.

  What Sev had mistaken for a dirt road was actually a very long driveway that led to the home Brendon shared with his lover. The wraparound porch had a pair of rocking chairs on it, and Sev could just picture him and Laine sitting on a similar porch at the end of the day, sharing details of their jobs and teasing each other. That fantasy snapped Sev back to reality. He had no right to expect anything permanent from Laine, and even less of a right thinking of himself as someone who could stay around. He’d never tried to stay in one place, but then again, he reasoned, he’d never had any incentive to, either. Laine Stenley was one hell of an incentive.

  “So, this is home sweet home.” Brendon’s dimple flashed as he got out of the truck.

  Sev groaned, dreading the moment when his feet would hit the ground. Brendon was standing in front of him, arms out.

  “I’ll walk, thanks.” A man had to have some pride, didn’t he?

  “Yeah, because pushing whatever’s stuck in your feet in deeper is so much better than swallowing your pride. Think of how much worse it’s gonna hurt when I have to dig around with the tweezers…”

  “God damn it.” Pride was overrated sometimes, anyway, and Sev wasn’t a pain slut. In fact, he knew there was a good chance he might scream if Brendon had to jab him too much. “Fine. Whatever.”

  To Brendon’s credit and Sev’s unspoken gratitude, Brendon didn’t laugh or so much as smirk as he swept Sev into his arms.

  “Huh.” Brendon grunted as he carried Sev up the porch steps. “You’re heavier than you look. I would have put you at one thirty-at the most.”

  “One forty, the extra ten pounds is—” Sev gasped as Brendon let him drop a couple of inches. “I was going to say it was all muscle! Perv.”

  “And I bet I know just which muscle you were going to claim it was.” They looked at each other and laughed, which Sev really appreciated later, when he was sitting on the bathroom countertop getting thorns plucked out of his feet. He hadn’t yelled yet, but there had been some groaning and a lot of sweating.

  “Geez, man, aren’t you done yet?”

  “Well, if you’d have thought to grab some shoes after the mysterious Conner tipped you off, we wouldn’t be doing this, would we?” The tweezers pinched and Sev nearly kicked Brendon in the head. On accident, he claimed, though the look Brendon shot him very clearly showed his disbelief.

  “There ya go, all debris free from what I can tell. You need to let me check again after you take a bath.” Brendon stood and sauntered over to the bathtub, turning the taps on. “You want it hot, cold, or just right?”

  “Hot. Hot would be just righ
t.” Sev wasn’t sure the cold he felt was a physical thing. Every time he thought about Laine being hunted by some sick bastard, another layer of ice seemed to coat Sev’s veins. Brendon made the appropriate adjustments and came back to Sev.

  “Okay, off with the clothes—or shirt, rather.” Brendon waggled his eyebrows and leered, looking so goofy Sev couldn’t hold back his laughter.

  “I can undress myself and get to the bathtub. My feet don’t hurt as bad as they did when stuff was still buried in them. Unless”—Sev dipped his head down a little and looked up at Brendon through his lashes—“you just want to see my hot bod again.”

  “Now you’re trying to get my ass whooped, though you do have a hot little body. Poor Zeke was trying to sneak a look when he thought I wasn’t watching.”

  Sev felt the tips of his ears grow warm even as he grinned. “What? You can look but he can’t?”

  “Nah, he can look. I just like him to think he can’t. Come on, off with it.” Brendon reached for the T-shirt and Sev let him. “Shit, you are scratched all over, Severo. We’re going to have to play doctor again once you get clean—and when the water hits those spots, oh man, I am glad I’m not you.”

  “Sev, please. Despite all the damage, I’m glad you’re not me, too,” Sev muttered as the shirt came off. He would put up with scratches and a little discomfort for Laine. He’d put up with a lot of things for the man. The realization nearly sent him into a panic. Sev looked up to find Brendon studying him intently.

  Sev reached up and fingered his silver necklace. He fought against the urge to look away from Brendon’s brown gaze, fought his fear of commitment and fear of exposure with one overpowering thought—he wanted Laine. Period. And why was Brendon staring at him like that?

  “What?” He sounded defensive, a little angry and wished he’d thought before he’d spoken.