All of the Voices

by Bailey Bradford

  Carlin didn’t have anything to say to that other than, “Yeah, well.” He heartily agreed, but it seemed wrong to badmouth his lover’s mother and sister. Although, they had disowned Matt. Carlin slumped down in his chair.

  “Hey,” Brendon said as he reached across the table and took Carlin’s hand. “It isn’t your fault. Matt is who he is, and his family should love him. Period.”

  The bells on the café door jangled and Carlin’s skin prickled with awareness. He wasn’t surprised at all to see Matt standing there, though why in the world was the man looking so pissed?

  Brendon craned his head around and spotted Matt.

  “Might want to let go of Carlin’s hand,” Zeke advised.

  Carlin and Brendon both jerked their hands away as Matt approached, scowling fiercely, which only made Carlin’s dick harder than it’d become as soon as the man walked in the café.

  “It was an innocent offer of comfort,” Brendon said as he smirked. “But possessive and jealous looks good on you, Matt.”

  Carlin agreed but wisely kept his mouth shut as Matt sat in the chair beside him.

  Zeke leaned forward and glared at Matt, who was sitting directly across from him. “Do you really think I’m the kind of guy who’d share?”

  Matt glared back as he slipped his arm around Carlin’s shoulders. Brendon grinned and winked.

  “I think I’ve already had a go ‘round with the red rooster from Hell this morning,” Matt drawled. “And I’m in no mood to put up with another cock.”

  Carlin snickered as Brendon and Zeke groaned. If they’d have seen the way Robbie Red went after Matt this morning, they’d have been laughing, too. The waiter came over and set two more cups of coffee on the table then set the carafe down as well.

  “Better bring two more cups and enough breakfast plates for six of us,” Matt quietly told the waiter. Carlin noticed Matt kept his gaze on him rather than the young man fidgeting beside their table. Carlin thought the poor kid looked ready to bolt, but he too turned his attention away from the waiter.

  “Why coffee and breakfast for six?”

  Matt pointed at the window looking out onto Main Street. “Because we’re fixing to be joined by Laine and Severo.”

  “Laine?” Carlin asked as he watched the sheriff and his partner walk by.

  “He’s going to tell you to call him Laine anyway, and I try to call him Sheriff when I’m working, but since he’s sort of a friend, too, sometimes I slip.”

  “I call him lots of things,” Brendon said in a stage whisper, “but he knows I only mean the good ones, most of the time, anyway.”

  “But…” Carlin looked at the two men across from him and Matt, then at Laine and Severo as they entered the café. “What is this, some kind of gay support group?” It came out louder than he’d meant it to, and several other customers laughed as they looked over at the group, although none of the laughter sounded hateful, just happy.

  “As a matter of fact, yes, it is,” Severo called back from halfway across the café. “Although I’d really prefer it if you saw it more as a gathering of concerned friends.”

  “One of whom is going to do his damnedest to get you to file charges on Shelly Nixon. That would be me,” Laine said without a trace of humor as he looked over everyone in the café. His gaze seemed to linger on the waiter, then Laine continued his perusal. “I will not tolerate shit like that in this town. There’s been too much hate crimes and just plain hatred already, and I am purely fed up with it.”

  Carlin would have liked to see the other customers’ reactions, but he was too concerned about Matt’s. He faced Matt only to have his bruised cheek cupped gently as Matt pressed his forehead to Carlin’s.

  “Are you okay?”

  Carlin shot the question right back. “Are you okay? That’s not your friend Laine speaking, that’s the sheriff wanting to toss your sister in jail.”

  Matt grinned and Carlin could not understand why the man wasn’t upset. “Not just Shelly, but Mom, too. All the slapping and insults were hate crimes, you know. I’ve already given my statement.”

  Carlin couldn’t fathom Matt’s calm demeanor. “You’re okay with letting your mom and your sister get arrested?”

  Matt nodded, the movement making Carlin’s head bob as well. “Yup. I was ready to smack Shelly last night, and I’ve had a lifetime of Mom yelling and cussing at me. She used to get a kick out of taking a belt or a switch to our backsides, telling us what evil little monsters we were when we were kids. I refused to be like her, while Shelly seems to have turned into a carbon copy of Mom. We could kind of get along on occasion, but as soon as Shelly didn’t get her way, she’d turn into a screeching, cussing, hitting nightmare. I had enough of it some time ago.”

  Laine sat down beside Zeke and pointed at the man. “And we learned the hard way not to let hatred like that run free. I won’t have anyone in this town go through what Zeke did.”

  “Holy shit,” Severo said as he sat beside Carlin. Carlin turned and looked at the smaller man. Severo was all big eyes and indignation. “That bitch! Laine, look at Carlin’s cheek!”

  At Matt’s urging and Severo’s nagging, Carlin let Laine see the bruise Shelly had slapped onto him. Laine’s expression turned thunderous and he pointed at Carlin.

  “You’re going to file charges, aren’t you?”

  Carlin hesitated, still feeling uncomfortable with taking any sort of action against Matt’s estranged family.

  “Maybe they’ll leave Matt alone once I go back to New York.”

  The utter silence of the other five men was unnerving. Carlin looked at each one of them, saving Matt for last. Man for man, with the exception if his lover, each of the others glared at him.

  “Cut it out,” Matt snapped as he glared back at the four men. “Carlin’s been honest about going back, and he really does have obligations there that he can’t blow off, so quit with the bitchy looks.”

  The men looked truly chastised and Carlin actually felt sorry for them. “They’re only worried about you,” he murmured in Matt’s ear.

  “They can get over it,” Matt grumbled.

  Carlin started to argue with him but someone tapped on his shoulder. He craned his neck and met Severo’s sheepish gaze.

  “Would it be too intrusive to ask what those obligations are?”

  Matt rumbled beside him but Carlin sent him a reassuring smile before turning back to Severo and took a deep breath.

  “My father’s there…”

  * * * *

  Matt waited in the car as Carlin packed up his things and checked out of the motel. He’d had another go round with the rooster, and Carlin had finally admitted the little beast might just be a menace. Matt had to lock the rooster in the chicken coop so the ladies Virginia had rounded up could go back and forth from Mrs. Hawkins’ house as they cleaned it and boxed up her things. Carlin had decided to donate most of it to the local churches and sell the house, hopefully along with the chickens. Anything he wanted would be shipped to him in New York.

  Matt’s heart ached with the thought, and not even the scent of cookies—the one Severo was so certain was Mrs. Hawkins watching over him—could make Matt feel any better. How could he have fallen so hard so fast for Carlin? And he couldn’t even tell the man. Carlin would probably just say it was because he was the first man Matt had been with, but that wasn’t it. Matt had been attracted to Rich, but that infatuation couldn’t begin to compare to the way he felt about Carlin.

  As if conjured by Matt’s thoughts, Carlin strolled toward the vehicle, a tentative smile on his handsome face. Carlin had been uncomfortable pressing charges against Shelly, but he’d done it. Matt’s respect for the man had grown as he’d listened to Carlin’s accounting of the events the night before. He’d been calm and kept his emotions out of it, giving facts and answering any questions Laine had. Matt bet the guy was a killer lawyer. He wished he’d get to see him in court someday, but that just wasn’t going to happen.

  Matt po
pped the trunk button for Carlin so he could stow his luggage, then leaned over and opened the passenger door for him.

  “Are you sure about this?” Carlin asked as he got in.

  “You’re going to be leaving tomorrow evening. I’d like to have as much time with you as I can.” Matt had even taken tomorrow off, something he rarely did, but he wanted to be there for Carlin, and he couldn’t skip out on Mrs. Hawkins. Matt had loved the eccentric old lady too much to do that.

  “Maybe I should take the rental car. It seems wrong to leave it here in the parking lot.”

  Matt didn’t want to be separated from Carlin any more than he absolutely had to, which was why he’d slipped the owner of the motel a twenty to let Carlin leave his car in the employees’ parking lot.

  “It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” Matt’s conscience pricked at him. He glanced at Carlin. “Unless you really want to bring it. If that’s the case, go ahead. I don’t want you stressing about it.”

  “I just don’t want to be a burden,” Carlin said as he buckled his seatbelt. “If you really don’t mind, I’d rather ride with you.”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Matt started the car and put it in gear. The ride back to his place was spent on small talk, the two of them getting to know each other better. They swapped stories from their childhood—Carlin had happier ones than Matt, that was for sure—and they went over their favorite movies, songs and books.

  “Are you hungry?” Matt asked as he parked in his driveway.

  “I could definitely eat,” Carlin told him, “but I can’t cook for shit.”

  Matt laughed as he shut off the ignition. “No problem. Let’s get your bags carried into my bedroom and you can shower or relax while I fix some enchiladas.”

  Carlin gave him a look of adoration. “Ohhh, enchiladas! I love enchiladas! Beef, cheese, or ch—wait, not chicken. Beef or cheese?”

  Matt noted the feverish light in Carlin’s eyes and laughed again. “You really do love enchiladas, don’t you?”

  Carlin nodded enthusiastically. “They’re my favorite. There’s this one little hole in the wall restaurant in New York…” The light dimmed in Carlin’s eyes and his expression became pinched.

  Matt rubbed Carlin’s shoulder then leaned over and kissed him gently before unbuckling Carlin’s seatbelt and opening his door.

  “It’s okay, Carlin, we both knew you weren’t staying here in McKinton. I meant what I said to everyone at the table today. You’ve always been up front about where you belong and I would never expect you to leave your dad alone in New York.” Matt unbuckled his own seatbelt and opened his door. “So, beef or cheese? You never said.”

  “Beef, with lots of cheese.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll have. Come on.” Matt got out of the car and walked over to the trunk. He hit the button on the fob and pulled the trunk lid up all the way. They grabbed the luggage and Matt slammed the trunk shut then walked beside Carlin until they reached the door. Maybe it was creepy, the way he wanted to touch Carlin constantly even though he refrained from doing so, but he couldn’t make himself keep what his mother would call a respectable distance.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Matt set down the suitcase he was carrying and looked at Carlin. “Sure. Anything.”

  Carlin sniffed then tipped his head to the side, reminding Matt suddenly of a certain rooster. “Why is it I smell cookies when I’m with you most of the time?”

  Shit. Ask me anything but that. Carlin would definitely think Matt was off his rocker if he told the truth, but he didn’t want to lie, either.

  “You asked me about whether or not I smelled cookies the first time you came to the motel,” Carlin mused. “I know it’s not your cologne. You don’t wear any, and if you did, I’d think you’d pick something that didn’t remind people of baked goods.”

  Matt fumbled the key into the lock as he tried to think of a plausible explanation that wouldn’t make him come across as unhinged and wasn’t a lie.

  “See? Or rather, do you smell it? It’s even stronger now.”

  “Damn it all to Hell,” Matt muttered. The scent was stronger, almost cloying. He unlocked the door and opened it quickly, hoping the odor would dissipate once they were inside. “Come on.” Matt picked up the suitcase and carried it inside to his room. Carlin locked the door and was behind him, nearly stepping on Matt’s heels.

  “It followed us inside,” Carlin pointed out. “It’s everywhere in here.” He walked around the bedroom then wandered out into the hall. Matt followed him and watched as Carlin opened every door and sniffed. “I haven’t seen any of those plug-in air fresheners, or potpourri, nothing like that. But every time I catch a whiff of that scent, I feel kind of warm and…” Carlin stopped in the middle of the living room and blushed to the roots of his hair. “This is going to sound crazy, but it almost feels like Aunt Mary is with me.” He groaned and walked over to the couch then plopped down. “God, I’m losing it.”

  Matt’s stomach clenched with fear as he thought he might lose Carlin, but he didn’t have a choice, not when Carlin was so obviously upset and thinking like he was.

  Taking a seat beside Carlin, Matt steeled himself for the worst. He took Carlin’s hand in his and cleared his throat. “You’re not crazy. Severo, he’s…” How the hell did he explain what Severo did? Matt plowed ahead before he could change his mind. “I guess you’d say he’s a psychic, though he really doesn’t like that term. He can, uh, he can hear ghosts, spirits he likes to call them. Says ‘ghosts’ reminds him of kiddie cartoons and Bill Murray.”

  Instead of looking like he thought Matt was full of shit, Carlin was staring at him with a hopeful expression. “Can he really do that?”

  “Yeah,” Matt said, thinking about some of the weird crap he’d seen in the past year. “He used to consult with police departments all over the United States. You can get online and type Severo Robledo and psychic and you will get thousands of hits. A lot of them are accountings of his work with the police, but he cut back on doing that once he and Laine became a couple.”

  Carlin grunted and scooted closer to Matt. “I’ve heard about people like him before. Didn’t you tell me he came to McKinton around the same time Laine’s stalker did?”

  “A little before. He said a spirit nagged him into coming but wouldn’t tell him why, or maybe the spirit couldn’t tell him, I’m not sure which. Turns out it was Laine’s deceased lover, Conner, who wanted Severo here to warn him about McAlister. Conner nearly froze Severo to death trying to get the message across, but things worked out in the end.”

  “Except you were nearly killed.” Carlin smoothed a hand over Matt’s stomach. “And you had your heart broken by Rich.”

  “Not broken,” Matt corrected, knowing that would come when Carlin left. “Just bruised, along with my pride. As for nearly getting killed, I wasn’t, so that worked out, too.”

  Carlin humphed and ran his hand from Matt’s stomach down to his groin. Matt moaned when Carlin squeezed his erection. “Carlin, damn it, I want to fuck you so bad but we don’t have—”

  “Condoms,” Carlin finished. “Yes, we do. Severo gave me a handful and said he and Laine don’t use them anymore. But I can still smell cookies, and the idea of fucking while we may be in the presence of my aunt’s, um, spirit, borders on gross. Actually, I think it bitch-slaps gross.”

  “I thought you’d freak out and think I was nuts,” Matt said as he cradled Carlin’s jaw in his hand.

  Carlin stiffened and sniffed the air, then pulled away. “It doesn’t freak me out, but the way the odor vanished as soon as I said that? That freaks me out.”

  Matt took a deep breath and felt a little freaked out himself. “Okay, I’ll give you that. Why don’t you shower if you want and I’ll get dinner started? Maybe we’ll feel better after a couple of hours without any…distractions.”

  “Sounds great to me. A shower, enchiladas, a handsome man—who’s back I need to doctor again, by the way—co
ndoms, and no cookie scent. I’m definitely in.” Carlin jumped up and planted a smacking kiss on Matt’s lips before heading toward the bathroom.

  Matt watched his delectable ass every step of the way until Carlin was out of sight, then Matt got up and adjusted his dick into a less painful position. He walked around the couch then stopped and looked over his shoulder when he caught a whiff of cookies.

  Feeling only a little foolish, Matt scolded, “Mrs. Hawkins, I love you dearly, but you need to go keep an eye on someone else for a while, if you would.” The scent vanished as soon as he finished speaking, and Matt smiled and went into the kitchen to make dinner for his man.

  * * * *

  “Okay, maybe I’m a little freaked out,” Carlin admitted to himself. He dug his laptop out of the suitcase and sat down on the bed. Once he popped in the broadband card, he started the computer up and within minutes had a newspaper article loaded. Carlin read the story, praising the abilities of Severo Robledo, though there were no quotes from the man himself. The reporter cited Severo’s refusal to comment more than once.

  “Interesting,” Carlin mumbled as he pulled up another article, this one from a newspaper in Fort Worth. His stomach twisted and settled into a queasy state as he read the reporter’s account of the events that had occurred in McKinton several months ago. Severo was mentioned as being a psychic who had been pivotal to breaking the case, but the specifics Matt had shared with Carlin about Conner being the spirit who helped Severo keep Laine safe, those details weren’t in the article.

  Carlin mulled it over in his mind and decided he believed Matt anyway. He wondered what had happened to Conner’s spirit. Had Conner been able to go…wherever people go when they die? Was it his need to have his killer caught that had kept Conner here on Earth? Or—Carlin jerked his hands back from the keyboard. The keys are moving!

  “Ohmyfuckinggod!” Carlin squeaked and tried to shove the laptop off his lap but it wouldn’t move. His heart pounded so hard he worried he was going to die of fright, but try as he might, Carlin couldn’t move the computer, and what should have been a slight weight held his legs pinned to the bed.