Aftermath

by Bailey Bradford

  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 come home with me and make sure you take care of yourself.”

  “No, ma’am, I mean, yes, ma’am, I’ll take them right now and won’t forget again,” Darren muttered as he dug the bottle of ibuprofen from his pocket. “I’m sorry, I just…it was busy and people, they just kept—and I didn’t know what—” Darren snapped his mouth shut, biting his tongue for good measure. For someone who didn’t talk much, he’d turned into a babbling fool. He fumbled with the lid until Virginia took the bottle from his hand.

  “Darren, just calm down,” she chided as she opened the bottle and poured out two pills. “People were asking ‘cause they were worried about you, that’s all. Sure, a few were just nosy, but you’d be surprised how many people who come in here feel kind of protective over you.”

  Darren wasn’t surprised as much as he was completely poleaxed. “What? Why? They don’t know me!”

  “They know enough.” Virginia handed him the painkillers, cupping his hand in hers when he would have pulled it away. “They know you’ve been hurt bad enough to be scared of your own shadow. Ain’t a lot of people here who don’t want to know why that is and how to make you feel safer—the good Sheriff and his man included.”

  Darren tugged and Virginia released his hand as she pursed her lips. He tossed the pills into his mouth and walked over to the sink, needing to escape her sharp gaze. As tired and miserable as he felt right now, Darren didn’t trust himself not to blurt out his entire life story. He wasn’t used to the compassion he’d seen in so many people’s expressions today, Virginia’s included, and it unsettled him to the point he actually felt his lower lip quiver.

  That wouldn’t do at all. Darren grabbed a clean glass and filled it half way, keeping his back to his boss. He washed the medicine down and took a deep breath, willing away the sudden stinging in his eyes. Her next words were much more effective than his attempt.

  “Sheriff Stenley and Severo came back to give you a ride home. They were worried about you riding your bike back in the dark, what with you being hurt and all.”

  Darren gripped the lip of the steel sink to keep from turning and screaming in frustration. He wanted to be away from people and questions and sympathy-filled eyes! “I can get home just fine,” he ground out then nearly whimpered from the pain. Gotta remember not to grind my teeth or clench my jaw for a few days—unless I want to look like a wuss.

  “Darren.” This time he did startle at Virginia’s voice, coming so closely behind him. Her hand on his shoulder sent his pulse into overdrive. “Let them help you. That’s all they want to do. You’ll be home in a few minutes, and I’ll know you made it safe and so will they, okay? And I think maybe you should take a couple days off—”

  “No!” Darren spun around, dislodging her hand and cracking his hip bone against the sink. He ignored the bright starburst of pain that bloomed from the contact. “I can work, I’ll
do better tomorrow, I won’t freeze when people ask me and I won’t break the eggs or anything!” Please, he wanted to beg, please don’t make me be alone! Which was ridiculous and he knew it. Hadn’t he needed to escape from the customers today? But he hadn’t been alone—there’d been people in the kitchen, and the café had been busy all day.

  Virginia grabbed his hands, stilling them. Darren hadn’t even realized he’d been waving them in the air as he spoke, as if the movements added weight to his words.

  “Look at me, Darren.”

  More than a little afraid of what he’d see, Darren forced his attention from a spot over Virginia’s head down to her glittery gaze. The burning sensation started back up in his eyes and spread down to squeeze at his throat. Darren sucked in his bottom lip and bit it to keep it from quivering as Virginia gave him a look filled with understanding and concern. He couldn’t keep his focus on her eyes and keep his own from welling up, so Darren chose to watch her lipstick-stained lips as she spoke instead.

  “Honey, you are not being punished here, okay? I don’t care about the eggs, I care about you being hurt, and tomorrow when you wake up, that knot on your chin, and probably the new one you just gave yourself on your hip? Well, both of them are going to ache like a bitch.”

  Darren knew his cheeks had to be flaming pink. Virginia didn’t curse often, and hearing her do so now was half mortifying and half humorous. And she seemed to know it, because her thin lips twitched before stretching into a wide grin.

  “What’s the matter, you don’t think old women cuss?” Virginia didn’t wait for him to answer, which was a good thing because he couldn’t. “Well, we do, probably worse than any man you’ve ever known.”

  “My mom never did, but she didn’t live long enough to be old,” Darren admitted and was so shocked he revealed that much he would have bolted if Virginia hadn’t tightened her grip. He snapped his gaze up to hers, fully expecting a barrage of questions. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity but she only nodded once, which Darren took as an acknowledgment that she’d heard him.

  “Tell you what, you take tomorrow off—just tomorrow,” Virginia said firmly when Darren started to protest. “You’ve been in here almost every day since you started. You need to take at least one day off. You do that then come back to work the next day, if you feel up to it. Meanwhile, you let the sheriff give you a ride home.”

  “But—”

  “It’s either that or you can take a couple days off whether you like it or not. Part of your job means following whatever work schedule I set for you.”

  Well, Darren thought as he glared at the back of his boss’s graying head as she walked off, at least he didn’t feel like he might burst into tears at any moment now. Instead he was just mad. He finished up in the kitchen then started towards the office. He ignored the voices coming from the room, too concerned with trying to figure out what he was going to do with a day off. A forced day off.

  With that preoccupying his thoughts, Darren stepped into the open office only to stop when he noticed the two men standing beside Virginia. Darren found himself the recipient of three gazes—silver, pale green and faded blue as Sheriff Stenley, Severo and Virginia all stopped talking and looked at him.

  “I’ve got your backpack,” Severo finally said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. He swung the pack as if to emphasize his words.

  Darren reached for the backpack, annoyed that anyone, but especially this man who seemed to see more than Darren would have liked, thought it was okay to handle his things.

  “I can carry it—”

  “No,” Darren forced the word out, stomping down his impulse to shut up and divert attention from himself. “I’m not so bad off I can’t carry it, or”—Darren flicked a glance at Virginia—“get myself back to Mrs. Hawkins’ place, despite what some people think.” He plucked the strap from Severo’s hand and settled the pack on his shoulder as his boss narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Fine,” Virginia grumbled. “You can work tomorrow, but only if you let Sheriff Stenley or Severo give you a ride to and from work. I don’t want to risk you getting dizzy or something and ending up splattered on the road.”

  That kind of sucked, but it was better than being alone all day. “Yes, ma’am, I can do that, if either or both of them are willing to pick me up at four-thirty in the morning and bring me home, too.”

  Severo crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say in all the months I’ve known you. We’ll be there and we’ll even bring coffee.”

  You don’t know me. Darren swallowed the words before they could escape. He’d already said too much.

  “You going to be smart enough to let someone help you out?”

  The question, asked in a deep rumbling growl Darren knew belonged to the sheriff, made his stomach flutter. As much as he didn’t want Severo trying to figure him out—and the man was, had been for some time, which scared the crap out of Darren—he really didn’t want the sheriff poking around in his life. Which meant taking the path of least resistance in this instance. Darren stared at his hands on the strap of his pack.

  “Yes, sir,” Darren murmured, unable to look at the bigger man. It wasn’t that the sheriff was ugly or anything, because he definitely wasn’t. Darren just knew that sharp gaze would see into his head and pull out everything Darren wanted to keep hidden. Okay, so maybe he knew that wasn’t possible, but it was possible that Darren would start babbling like an idiot, spilling everything about his past, if the sheriff demanded it. That was why Darren didn’t want to be near the guy. Just thinking about it made him shiver and he hoped the others watching him took it for exhaustion or pain or anything but the truth.

  “Come on, we’re not so bad.”

  Darren flinched at the fleeting touch to his elbow as he looked at Severo. The little guy had moved so quietly. Severo stepped around him and continued talking as he led the way to the back door.

  “Laine pulled his truck around back. We were going to load up your bike but…”

  Grunting as he shifted his pack around, Darren unzipped the smallest outside pocket and pulled out his keys. Once outside with his two…whatever they were—Darren didn’t know, that was for sure—he started to walk over to his bike only to be stopped by a big, hard hand clamping down on his shoulder.

  “I’ll get it, go on and get it the truck. You’re limping.”

  Darren bristled but didn’t so much as glance behind him as he offered the keys up. Sheriff Stenley took them and stepped around Darren, murmuring something that sounded awfully close to ‘good boy’, which, if Darren had been certain was what was said, he’d have been more than a little offended by it.

  “Least resistance,” he muttered, turning and heading to the truck. He thought Severo snickered but wasn’t sure. It could have been a cough.

  “I’m guessing you want in the back seat since you don’t seem to like anyone besides Virginia.”

  Darren knew Severo was goading him, but couldn’t figure out why—and he couldn’t stop himself from sniping since he was already a little past mad. “Is it any wonder when everyone’s so bossy and…and nosy?” It wasn’t his best comeback at all, but it was heartfelt enough that no one could doubt he meant it.

  Except Severo must have, because he laughed and slapped Darren on the back. “Right. Well, it’s a small town, so everyone wants to, and usually does, know everyone else’s business. And no matter how much you protest, you’ve stayed here a while so you must not mind.”

  Severo pulled open the rear passenger door, like Darren couldn’t do it himself. He scowled as Severo chuckled, those pale eyes dancing with amusement at Darren’s expense. “I think maybe you’re just shy,” Severo finally said and Darren almost relaxed until the guy added, “Or is there something you’re afraid of?”

  Darren shut up and shut down, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing to fake sleep for the short drive to the house. No way would he tell anyone the very thing he was afraid of m
ost in the world was himself.

  Laine grimaced as Severo not so gently prodded at Darren. Laine knew his lover’s intentions were good, but he was going about gaining Darren’s confidence the wrong way. As scared and wound tight as the 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.