through the house to the couch. “Sit and let me get you some water.”
He flipped on the lamp beside the couch on his way to the kitchen. Glancing back, he saw that Brody’s eyes were red and his brows bunched. This wasn’t how he wanted things. After grabbing a glass of water, he picked up the leftover bread from the restaurant and brought them both out to Brody.
“Drink this and eat a little.”
Brody took a sip and tore off a piece of bread. He chewed thoughtfully, his gaze anywhere but on James. After Brody swallowed, James moved to sit beside him.
“Listen, I don’t want to make your life worse. I just want to find the guy who hit you. Could you give me some details about your past, maybe something that would clue us in on why someone would want to run you off the road?”
“You’ll think less of me. And no one knows. That’s over and done with, they couldn’t find me.”
A warning zipped through James as he digested Brody’s words. He didn’t let his worry show as he wrapped his arm around Brody’s shoulder. The contact felt good then Brody extended his arm between them, resting his hand on James’s leg. His brain fuzzed for a second. He drew in a deep breath as they settled into the seat. Brody leaned his head on James’s shoulder and relaxed against him. The contact felt amazing. His whole body tingled as he held Brody. They sat like that for a long while. Long enough for James to think Brody had fallen asleep. Then he began speaking.
“I lived in Washington State near Seattle. Money was tight. My dad was sick and dying.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” James whispered.
Brody drew in a shuddering breath and shook his head. “It was awful. I was too young for the responsibility. I made some bad decisions. My dad needed something to cut the pain. The shit the doctors were giving him made him feel bad. He hated taking the prescription painkillers. They messed with his mind and his body.”
A bad feeling wormed its way through James. He had a sinking suspicion that Brody was about to tell him that he’d done something illegal. James had spent his adult years fighting against drugs and drug dealers.
“I bought some stuff. It was good because it helped my dad. He was still dying, but he wasn’t in bed moaning all the time. He could sit up for a while and talk. The marijuana helped him so much that he actually got out of bed and sat outside the last few weeks of his life. He loved the birds and the forests. The screech of an eagle or the cry of a hawk brought pleasure to his life. He smiled. Do you know how long it had been since I’d seen my dad smile? That kind of shit rips you apart.”
Brody was silent for a while and James wanted to press him for more, but he figured Brody would tell everything in time. He ran his hand through Brody’s hair and snuggled closer. Brody glanced up, his eyes wide and his lips parted. James stared down into his beautiful blue eyes but didn’t move. Eventually Brody sat up with his elbows resting on his knees. The physical contact they’d shared wasn’t enough. James wanted more, but he wouldn’t take advantage of Brody.
“I really couldn’t afford to buy everything my dad needed so I sold a little on the side, not much, but enough to pay off my debt.”
James closed his eyes, stifling a groan. Brody had been a dealer. Fuck, he’d found a guy who was perfect for him and the man turned out to be a drug dealer. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. James remained quiet, hoping that Brody would say something that redeemed the situation.
“My dad died and I didn’t need the drugs. I quit selling.”
“Were you ever taking?”
“No, hell no. Just my dad smoked the pot. I didn’t want to because I wanted to be a cop or fireman or something like that.”
“Were you only dealing marijuana?”
“No.”
James fought to hold in his anger. He’d seen over and over again what drugs did to people, to kids. That Brody had done that to someone,
He flipped on the lamp beside the couch on his way to the kitchen. Glancing back, he saw that Brody’s eyes were red and his brows bunched. This wasn’t how he wanted things. After grabbing a glass of water, he picked up the leftover bread from the restaurant and brought them both out to Brody.
“Drink this and eat a little.”
Brody took a sip and tore off a piece of bread. He chewed thoughtfully, his gaze anywhere but on James. After Brody swallowed, James moved to sit beside him.
“Listen, I don’t want to make your life worse. I just want to find the guy who hit you. Could you give me some details about your past, maybe something that would clue us in on why someone would want to run you off the road?”
“You’ll think less of me. And no one knows. That’s over and done with, they couldn’t find me.”
A warning zipped through James as he digested Brody’s words. He didn’t let his worry show as he wrapped his arm around Brody’s shoulder. The contact felt good then Brody extended his arm between them, resting his hand on James’s leg. His brain fuzzed for a second. He drew in a deep breath as they settled into the seat. Brody leaned his head on James’s shoulder and relaxed against him. The contact felt amazing. His whole body tingled as he held Brody. They sat like that for a long while. Long enough for James to think Brody had fallen asleep. Then he began speaking.
“I lived in Washington State near Seattle. Money was tight. My dad was sick and dying.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” James whispered.
Brody drew in a shuddering breath and shook his head. “It was awful. I was too young for the responsibility. I made some bad decisions. My dad needed something to cut the pain. The shit the doctors were giving him made him feel bad. He hated taking the prescription painkillers. They messed with his mind and his body.”
A bad feeling wormed its way through James. He had a sinking suspicion that Brody was about to tell him that he’d done something illegal. James had spent his adult years fighting against drugs and drug dealers.
“I bought some stuff. It was good because it helped my dad. He was still dying, but he wasn’t in bed moaning all the time. He could sit up for a while and talk. The marijuana helped him so much that he actually got out of bed and sat outside the last few weeks of his life. He loved the birds and the forests. The screech of an eagle or the cry of a hawk brought pleasure to his life. He smiled. Do you know how long it had been since I’d seen my dad smile? That kind of shit rips you apart.”
Brody was silent for a while and James wanted to press him for more, but he figured Brody would tell everything in time. He ran his hand through Brody’s hair and snuggled closer. Brody glanced up, his eyes wide and his lips parted. James stared down into his beautiful blue eyes but didn’t move. Eventually Brody sat up with his elbows resting on his knees. The physical contact they’d shared wasn’t enough. James wanted more, but he wouldn’t take advantage of Brody.
“I really couldn’t afford to buy everything my dad needed so I sold a little on the side, not much, but enough to pay off my debt.”
James closed his eyes, stifling a groan. Brody had been a dealer. Fuck, he’d found a guy who was perfect for him and the man turned out to be a drug dealer. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. James remained quiet, hoping that Brody would say something that redeemed the situation.
“My dad died and I didn’t need the drugs. I quit selling.”
“Were you ever taking?”
“No, hell no. Just my dad smoked the pot. I didn’t want to because I wanted to be a cop or fireman or something like that.”
“Were you only dealing marijuana?”
“No.”
James fought to hold in his anger. He’d seen over and over again what drugs did to people, to kids. That Brody had done that to someone,
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