a fan.”
“Liar!” Curtis screamed.
“Maybe the emails he received were from someone else. Perhaps someone he met online? I know there are a lot of sites out there that offer that sort of thing to men in the military.”
Curtis began shaking his head again, mumbling to himself. Brac used the opportunity to ease his hands down between his legs. He managed to get the safety off the gun, before Curtis came back to himself.
“My Steven wasn’t like that. He was devastated when the Army sent him home.”
“I’m sorry. I remember how highly Steve spoke of the Army and his part in the war effort.” Brac needed to keep Curtis talking. Having a gun in his hand was one thing, but he honestly didn’t think he had it in him to shoot someone. Priest had been gone at least an hour and a half. If he could keep Curtis talking for another thirty minutes or so…
“Turn around,” Curtis ordered.
Brac squeezed the butt of the gun. Please don’t make me shoot you. “Do you think Steve would really want you to kill me? I’m sure he’d tell you the truth if he could. I promise you I didn’t send him the emails that got him discharged.”
“I said turn around!” Curtis yelled, waving the rifle.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Time’s up , he told himself. He jerked his head in the direction of the house. “Did you hear that? I think Priest’s back. You’d better go if you want to live.”
“Live?” Curtis began to cackle. “I’ve been half dead since my wife and boy died. The only thing keeping me going was putting things to rights with you. When I saw that report on the news about you being in this cesspool of a town, I used the last of my money to get here. You really think I care anything about living after I do to you what you did to my son?”
“I didn’t kill your son, Mr Hostetler. If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself. Maybe if you’d been open enough for Steve to come to you to discuss his homosexuality he wouldn’t have had to seek strangers out online.”
Curtis’ face went pale. It seemed it wasn’t the first time he had heard it. “Did Steve tell you that before he killed himself, Mr Hostetler? Did he blame you in some way? Is that the reason you’ve gone looking for someone else to blame?”
Of course Brac knew the only one ultimately at fault for Steve’s death was Steve himself, but at the moment he’d try anything to get that fucking rifle pointed away from him.
“No! It’s you. You started all of this. If he hadn’t been discharged he’d still be alive.”
“And he’d still be gay,” Brac reminded the older man. “As I see it, I’m the one person in his life who tried to help him work through his feelings. And this is the way to repay me for trying to be a true friend to Steve? Do you really think I deserve to die for doing what you couldn’t bring yourself to do? I accepted Steve. Why couldn’t you?”
With a roar, Curtis lifted the rifle to his shoulder. Brac lifted the handgun and tried to turn around to get a clean shot, but by the time he took aim, Curtis was already falling to the ground, face first with a hole between his eyes.
Priest stepped out of the trees, a silencer-equipped handgun still smoking at his side. “We’re back,” he announced in a casual tone.
* * * *
“Are they gone?” Brac asked Priest.
“Yeah. Finally.” Priest fell to the couch and closed his eyes. “That’s exactly the reason I don’t usually stick around after a hit. I never understood it. The guy was bad, he needed to be stopped, end of story. Why the hell do cops think everything has to be investigated?”
“ Ummm , I’m guessing it’s because it’s their job.”
“Bullshit. Their job is to make sure the bad guys don’t get out of control in the first place.”
Brac got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. “I would usually take great joy in disagreeing with you, but being as you’re my hero today, I’m gonna give you this one. Thanks
“Liar!” Curtis screamed.
“Maybe the emails he received were from someone else. Perhaps someone he met online? I know there are a lot of sites out there that offer that sort of thing to men in the military.”
Curtis began shaking his head again, mumbling to himself. Brac used the opportunity to ease his hands down between his legs. He managed to get the safety off the gun, before Curtis came back to himself.
“My Steven wasn’t like that. He was devastated when the Army sent him home.”
“I’m sorry. I remember how highly Steve spoke of the Army and his part in the war effort.” Brac needed to keep Curtis talking. Having a gun in his hand was one thing, but he honestly didn’t think he had it in him to shoot someone. Priest had been gone at least an hour and a half. If he could keep Curtis talking for another thirty minutes or so…
“Turn around,” Curtis ordered.
Brac squeezed the butt of the gun. Please don’t make me shoot you. “Do you think Steve would really want you to kill me? I’m sure he’d tell you the truth if he could. I promise you I didn’t send him the emails that got him discharged.”
“I said turn around!” Curtis yelled, waving the rifle.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Time’s up , he told himself. He jerked his head in the direction of the house. “Did you hear that? I think Priest’s back. You’d better go if you want to live.”
“Live?” Curtis began to cackle. “I’ve been half dead since my wife and boy died. The only thing keeping me going was putting things to rights with you. When I saw that report on the news about you being in this cesspool of a town, I used the last of my money to get here. You really think I care anything about living after I do to you what you did to my son?”
“I didn’t kill your son, Mr Hostetler. If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself. Maybe if you’d been open enough for Steve to come to you to discuss his homosexuality he wouldn’t have had to seek strangers out online.”
Curtis’ face went pale. It seemed it wasn’t the first time he had heard it. “Did Steve tell you that before he killed himself, Mr Hostetler? Did he blame you in some way? Is that the reason you’ve gone looking for someone else to blame?”
Of course Brac knew the only one ultimately at fault for Steve’s death was Steve himself, but at the moment he’d try anything to get that fucking rifle pointed away from him.
“No! It’s you. You started all of this. If he hadn’t been discharged he’d still be alive.”
“And he’d still be gay,” Brac reminded the older man. “As I see it, I’m the one person in his life who tried to help him work through his feelings. And this is the way to repay me for trying to be a true friend to Steve? Do you really think I deserve to die for doing what you couldn’t bring yourself to do? I accepted Steve. Why couldn’t you?”
With a roar, Curtis lifted the rifle to his shoulder. Brac lifted the handgun and tried to turn around to get a clean shot, but by the time he took aim, Curtis was already falling to the ground, face first with a hole between his eyes.
Priest stepped out of the trees, a silencer-equipped handgun still smoking at his side. “We’re back,” he announced in a casual tone.
* * * *
“Are they gone?” Brac asked Priest.
“Yeah. Finally.” Priest fell to the couch and closed his eyes. “That’s exactly the reason I don’t usually stick around after a hit. I never understood it. The guy was bad, he needed to be stopped, end of story. Why the hell do cops think everything has to be investigated?”
“ Ummm , I’m guessing it’s because it’s their job.”
“Bullshit. Their job is to make sure the bad guys don’t get out of control in the first place.”
Brac got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. “I would usually take great joy in disagreeing with you, but being as you’re my hero today, I’m gonna give you this one. Thanks
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