“And later—”
Eric stopped him with a kiss. “And later,” he whispered, “we’re figuring out a way for you to live.”
And that was it—the thing that calmed Brady down and allowed him to sleep.
We have a plan now, are we satisfied?
Sure, Charlie. That’s all we need. A plan.
Have a little faith, Eric. It’s gotten us this far.
Sure.
It must have been worth something, because the clamoring in his brain died down and he slept.
THERE WASa soft tapping at the door first, and the buzz of a text on Eric’s phone, which he’d set in its charger on his nightly trip to the bathroom.
“Mmmf…,” Brady mumbled, and Eric kissed his forehead.
“It’s Ernie,” he said softly. “Let me talk.”
He swung his legs over the bed—still careful by habit—and then slid his sweats and a T-shirt on, mindful of the proprieties and the morning chill.
He swung the door open, planning on a grumpy, “’Sup?” to waylay any conversation, but Ernie was already swinging himself up into the RV, a plate of food in his hand.
“I take it he didn’t sleep on any couches,” he said dryly.
“No,” Eric replied, resigning himself to this side of having people. “There was no sleeping on couches last night.”
Ernie chuckled and shoved the plate into his hand. “Sausage muffins,” he said, pointing to the foil-wrapped packages, “and hash browns. Lunch at mine and Burton’s place at one. Just us, no big scary meeting.”
“Therewillbe a big scary meeting, right?” Eric asked, to be sure.
“Oh, absolutely. But it’s everybody’s day off—and Brady needs one too. So we have a day off. Let the cops run around withtheir asses on fire. High comedy. Sunday morning, big breakfast before the shop opens. There will be a plan. And some of the plan will probably go to shit, but thegistof the plan… well, we’re mostly good at that.”
“I’d noticed,” Eric said dryly. “You getting any pings on how that’s going to work?”
Ernie shook his head in irritation. “It depends on if Ace is going to be involved. If he’s not, I foresee lots of the going to shit with a little glimmer of hope. But if heis….” Ernie shook his head again. “Ace is literally a wild card in the forces of nature. If he’s involved, Ifeellike there’s more hope, but there’s a lot more—” Ernie made crazy circular motions with his hands, and Eric was grateful he’d already taken the warming plate. “—insanity,” Ernie said shortly. “Ace helps shit happen, but he’s not great with the ‘sight.’ He’s like a good tornado. Yay! It’s a force of good! Oh fuck! It’s a tornado! You know what I mean?”
Eric found himself chuckling, remembering the bank job from the day before. “Have you ever seen him throw his knife?” he asked, still impressed.
Ernie sucked in a breath. “Violent poetry,” he said. “Absolutely unbelievably beautiful and bloody at the same time.”
“Yeah, that.” Eric shook his head. “So I do get it. I think after seeing that, we’ll take our chances with the good tornado.”
Ernie grinned. “Excellent. I think he was revved after yesterday. He’ll probably be down for a little bit of tornadoing.” He drew a breath and then did something absolutely unfathomable. He gave Eric a one-armed hug, like he would do for a buddy, or a friend, or a brother. “Okay, then—you’re fed, and Burton and I have some….” He smirked. “Somethingsto do before lunch. We won’t bother your van a rockin’ if you have the good sense to not come knockin’—you hear me?”
“One o’clock and not before,” Eric said, thinking the last thing he wanted to do was disturb Ernie’s terrifying boyfriend when they were in the middle of sex.
“Good man!” Ernie was about to swing out of the RV again, but he paused. “You’ll get a good Katie and Oliver visit today, but maybe plan to leave them at my place until this is all settled. This thing has a lot of tornado potential, if you know what I mean.”
Eric nodded, suddenly alert. “I do.”
“Good. Later.”
He trotted off across the street, and Eric turned the oven on warm and put the metal plate inside. Another hour, he thought with a yawn. In another hour he and Brady might be ready to wake up and eat.
In another hour they could face the new day.
