“Bah.” Bruce coughed, a deep, scraping sound that set all of Zane’s protective instincts into overdrive. When he could breathe again, Bruce wiped the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief he’d pulled from a pocket. “Most people would say that a man who lives on the streets can’t be wise.”
“That’s because most people assume that if someone makes choices they don’t understand or agree with, they don’t have anything to offer.”
“I think you learned a long time ago that people are far more than their address or their addiction.”
“Or one bad decision,” Zane added.
Bruce cut his eyes toward Zane, and they held a million shadows. “Some decisions lead a man down an irreversible path.”
“No one is beyond redemption, Bruce.” They’d had this discussion many times.
“You believe in a God who forgives anything.”
“I do.”
“I wonder”—Bruce took a deep breath—“if you knew the truth about me, if you’d still say that.”
Zane tried not to react. This was the closest Bruce had ever come to sharing what he’d done that had led him away from the halls of academia to life on the streets.
“I would. Forgiveness doesn’t mean there are no consequences.I can forgive my dad for splitting, or my mom for caring more about her next drink than about my next meal, but—”
“She doesn’t get a relationship with you.” Bruce shook his head in grim acknowledgment. “She’s missing out, young man. Truly.”
“I’m not sure if she cares, to be honest.” Zane had no idea why he talked to Bruce about his mom when he rarely spoke of her to anyone. “But regardless, if she asks for forgiveness, it will be given. I know that.”
“So, you think there’s hope for an old reprobate like me?” Bruce’s tone held a solid core of disbelief but also a tiny vein of longing.
“I don’t know that you’re a reprobate, but I know there’s hope for you.”
Bruce didn’t speak for a while, and Zane didn’t attempt to push the conversation.Lord, I’m convinced you’re drawing Bruce to you. Help me trust you to continue the work you began.
When Bruce spoke again, he was all business. “You get any more details on the threat against your lady?”
“None of it makes sense.” Zane leaned back against the park bench. “The threats about her being too pretty to protect the president just came up after the news reports aired last weekend. But the person or persons behind the threats have too much knowledge about her. They’ve put a lot of thought behind what they’re doing, and the attacks have hit her in very personal ways. It makes me think they’ve been planning this for a while. But that doesn’t make sense either. Tessa has worked a few high-profile cases, but not anything that would generate this kind of revenge.”
As he said the words out loud, something too faint to catch whispered through his mind. Zane didn’t fight to hold on to the idea. It would come back.
“I’ve been listening to the wind,” Bruce said.
“And?”
“The wind is angry.”
“Yeah. I got that part.” What was with Bruce and the wind? Was his brain truly degenerating? He’d never been this far detached from reality.
“She knows something, your Tessa.”
Zane sat straight and turned to Bruce. “What?”
“Maybe she doesn’t know she knows? But she has knowledge that she shouldn’t have.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“The wind says she can’t be allowed to see. If she sees, all is lost.”
Zane dropped his head in his hands. “Bruce, you’re killing me, man. What does she know? What can’t she see?”
Bruce patted Zane’s back. “Only the wind knows, and the wind keeps her secrets.”
