The Magic in Your Touch Ch. 16

Mike was still going on about Nate’s impending demise when Nate rammed his foot down on the accelerator. Mike waved the gun around wildly and said, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Nate?” He aimed the pistol and would have fired except at that exact moment the door came open.

Mike reached for the handle. The minute his fingers fastened on the door, the force pulled him forward. He grabbed at Nate with his right hand, but his futile efforts were no match for the strength of the wind and the speed of the car. Mike was hurled outwards just as Nate lost control and ran off the other side of the road.

* * *

Brandon heard the crash over his cell and increased his own speed. He’d instructed his men to follow at a safe distance and to keep their lights turned off, his own SUV leading the way. As soon as he heard that crash all bets were off. He switched on his lights and sirens and ran the SUV wide open. Just as he approached the curve, his headlights made out the still form of a body sprawled across the pavement. He slammed on the brakes, threw the car into park, and jumped out, his heart in his throat.

The minute he realized the body was Vaughn’s, he didn’t spare the bastard a second glance. From the corner of his eye he saw Sam and some of the other deputies running towards the scene, but he keep going at breakneck speed towards the wrecked Ford and his only reason for living.

The car wasn’t near as damaged as Brandon expected, giving him hope that Nate had made it through unharmed. He expected Nate to be trapped behind the wheel, maybe even unconscious. The ambulance was already on its way, so all he could do was bide his time and hope they got there fast. The last thing he expected to find was an empty car.

Brandon’s heart dropped to his stomach. Nate must have been thrown out. Oh God, it was worse than he thought. He raced around to the front of the car, searching desperately for any sign of him. He almost knocked him over in the process.

Nate sat in the grass, staring off into the distance. Bran looking him over, seeing no visible signs of injury or trauma. Bran knelt down beside him and was about to reach for him when Nate spoke.

“You heard everything.” It was a statement, not a question.

Brandon nodded, but Nate was still staring off in the distance and couldn’t see it. Finally, and keeping his voice as soothing as possible, Bran said, “Yes, baby, I heard it all. If you hadn’t called me, I never would’ve found you in time.” He forced a smile. “I’ve always said I hooked myself a smart one.”

“Yeah. Well, if I’m so smart, why didn’t I realize that my own mother wanted me dead? Why didn’t I see that Mike resented me to the point of homicide?” Nate shuddered. “You want to know the worst part?”

Brandon was terrified of the answer. He remembered the three weeks of isolation Nate subjected himself to after Amy’s death. He’d go out of his mind if Nate shut him out again. Swallowing, he said, “What’s that?”

Nate turned to look at him for the first time, his eyes unnaturally bright in the light of the Ford’s still burning headlights. His voice was low, but the detachment was no longer present. He said, “The worst part is, I don’t care, Bran. Let them hate me all the way to hell, but God help me, I don’t give a flying fuck. Leda’s dead—Mike too for all we know—and I could care less.” He reached out, his hand shaking, the tears falling freely as he caressed Brandon’s cheek. “All I care about is that I’m alive, and I can touch you again. Oh God, Bran, I thought I was never gonna get to touch you again.”

Brandon gathered him close and rocked him back and forth in the glow of the headlights, stroking his fingers through Nate’s dirty hair, savoring the smell of him. Kissing Nate’s temple, Brandon closed his eyes and thanked God.

{TO BE CONTINUED}