The Lonely Heart (13 page)

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 82

Joseph nodded his agreement, face still set in worried lines. Isaiah didn’t feel like soothing him, though. Hell, there really wasn’t anything to say that would do the trick, anyway. The situation was what it was. Hopefully, most people were too smart to listen to the rumours.

Isaiah kept one hand on Josh, though, as they wandered towards Carl, who was watching them with concern and questions in his bright eyes. Another head shake forestalled any questions.

Isaiah didn’t really hold out much hope on that whole ‘too-smart’ thing. Because in general? People in groups tended to be really quite stupid. Gullible. Vicious.

The best thing to do right now was pretend he didn’t see it, protect Josh as well as he could, and get on with his life.

* * * *

Grady stepped out into the cool night air, zipping his coat and turning up the sheepskin collar. The sound of footsteps rapidly heading his way made him turn. Past the dim glow cast by the streetlight, three familiar, bulky forms emerged.

Grady cursed low and viciously. He really didn’t want to deal with this. Not ever, and certainly not tonight. But there was no avoiding the inevitable. Ever since the rumours had started circulating again. It was, in fact, partly what urged him into town tonight—best to deal with the problem in the usual way and then let the whole thing blow over.

Ever since Isaiah had told Grady what had happened in town earlier, Grady had been bracing himself for this. He’d dreaded it all afternoon. Now, he just wanted it over.

Grady turned as the three men, the banes of his existence, gathered around him.

“Well, well,” one drawled. “If it isn’t the village idiot.”

Grady scowled. “I’ve really got better things to do than stand here and listen to your bullshit.”

“Not nice, Grady, not nice at all.” Torres had mean, squinty little eyes that had only gained a stronger, nastier light as he had grown older. Time did not, unfortunately, work for all bullies. Some men remained bullies. Also unfortunately, time did give them bigger muscles and stronger fists.

Of course, time had done the same for Grady, too.

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 83

Morris leaned against the lamppost, puffing lazily on his cigarette. Grady kept a close eye on the smallest of the three men. Despite his wiry frame, Morris was the most dangerous, and the most likely to start trouble.

Morris took another drag, blowing out a stream of smoke. When he spoke, his voice was casual, nonchalant. It didn’t fool Grady for a second.

“Word on the street is your boy was seen coming out of that bar again.”

Grady grunted. “Word on the street is more often wrong than not.”

“Yeah, but that’s the third time in six months. What did we tell you last time?”

Grady kept his mouth clamped shut in a stubborn line.

Thomason bumped him on the shoulder. Grady staggered sideways a few steps, ignoring the mocking laughter out of pure habit.

Thomason laughed harder than the rest. The sound had a mean edge to it, and Grady switched his focus. The big mechanic would be the one to start things tonight, then.

He was proven right. He saw the fist fly through his peripheral vision right before it slammed into his jaw. Grady grunted as pain shot through his face and his head snapped back from the force of the blow.

Morris flicked his cigarette aside and the trio closed in. All mocking was gone now—

their faces serious and hard.

“We’ve told you more than once to get rid of that fag foreman of yours,” he snarled.

“Guess we’re just gonna have to remind you again.”

Grady let them herd him away from the streetlight and into the narrow alley between the dark drugstore and the equally dark law firm. He wanted to draw attention even less than they did. It always ended up with him in a cell and the trio graciously, after much dithering, agreeing not to press charges.

Grady waited until the shadows closed around them before wading in. His fist landed against flesh and he got in more good licks than usual before the first blow to the stomach left him gasping for air.

After that, it was the usual slaughter that occurred when one guy faced three opponents.

* * * *

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 84

Isaiah shoved open the door, already knowing what he was going to find. When Grady didn’t show up at the barn at his usual time, there were only a couple of possibilities. The most likely was what Isaiah found in the office.

Grady was sprawled on the couch, one muscular forearm slung over his eyes. His hair stuck up every which way, clothes messy and covered in dirt and stains.

Isaiah sighed and headed straight for the kitchen. Unable to find any of the ice packs he’d bought a few weeks ago, he dug out a plastic bag and filled it with ice cubes. Next he filled a glass of water then grabbed the bottle of aspirin.

It was a familiar, if hated, ritual. Grady was normally growly but hard to provoke.

Except every month or so, he’d go into town, tie one on, and pick a fight.

Isaiah consoled himself with the thought that at least this time he hadn’t needed to go bail the man’s ass out of jail.

Isaiah headed back to the office and sat down on the sturdy pine coffee table, holding out the bag of ice. Grady didn’t look at him, just stuck his hand out and took the offering.

Grady lifted his arm enough to plop the makeshift icepack on his black eye but didn’t stir any further.

“Any fines I need to take care of?” Isaiah asked quietly.

Grady shook his head.

Isaiah sighed, letting the silence grow until it became uncomfortable. Grady held out his hand and Isaiah moved on to the next step, passing over two white pills. Grady finally sat up, swallowing the aspirin with the glass of water. Grady’s eyes weren’t quite as blood-shot as normal, but that didn’t mean much. Unlike Isaiah, who wandered around in a fog for a solid twelve hours after an alcohol binge, Grady didn’t really feel the hangover effects the next morning. Just the effects from whatever fight he’d wandered into.

“Ready to talk now?”

Grady grimaced.

Isaiah sighed again. “Grady, you really have to stop doing this. One day you’re going to throw a punch at the wrong person and the judge will lock you up and throw away the key.”

Grady glared through narrowed eyes. Isaiah slid back on the table a couple of inches, surprised at the reaction.

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 85

“What makes you think I start anything?” Grady snapped. His voice was low and rusty and he winced as speaking broke open his split lip. Isaiah handed him a tissue mechanically and gave a glare of his own.

“Because even the local yokels aren’t dumb enough to pick a fight with a guy as huge as you are,” Isaiah snapped back.

Grady gave a low chuckle, the sound completely devoid of mirth. “You’d be surprised.”

A thud on the stairs had them both looking towards the hallway. Grady’s eyes widened. Or at least, the eye not swollen shut.

Isaiah grunted. “Get your ass upstairs and cleaned up before Josh sees. The last thing I want to do is explain your condition to a ten-year-old.”

Isaiah shoved himself to his feet and went to intercept his little brother. And pretended that he didn’t see the hurt in Grady’s normally emotionless hazel eyes.

Grady dragged himself up the stairs, feeling like he was trying to hike up a mountain.

Each step jarred the bruises painfully. His eye might be the most visible, but it was actually the least bothersome. His back throbbed, low down, and Grady had the feeling he’d be pissing blood for the next couple of days. It wouldn’t be the first time. Probably not the last, either.

The thought depressed him. He wanted to climb into bed, pull the covers up, and refuse to come out for the next month or so.

Instead, he headed for the master bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he crossed the bedroom. He left them littering the dark grey carpet like fallen leaves, not even wanting to think about picking up after himself. That would involve bending over. The thought was just too painful to contemplate at the moment.

Grady gave the shower a minute to warm up and stepped under the spray, groaning out loud when the hot water began to pound at the knots in his shoulders. He braced his arms on the cold tile, dropped his head forward and let the heat stream over his naked flesh.

Little stings rippled his skin, cuts making themselves known for the first time. Damn, but it had been a while since they’d worked him over this badly.

Better him than Isaiah, though. Grady was…well—as sad as it was to admit—he was used to it. The taunts and the abuse. Isaiah had been, for lack of a better word, sheltered growing up. Oh, from stories he’d told, Isaiah hadn’t managed to completely evade all the www.total-e-bound.com

THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 86

bigots. No gay man truly could, not without staying buried deep in the back of the closet. But the man had grown up in California. The Preston family had money and connections.

Whereas Grady had grown up on this same ranch, with a father who believed in stern discipline. Not unlike many other fathers in the area. The rather one-sided battle between Grady and several of the local bullies had been ongoing for darn near two decades. And they weren’t even one hundred per cent sure that Grady was gay.

He was, but he never came out and said it. Grady dealt with enough flack as it was for his stupidity and his choice of employees. Although if it wasn’t the latter, it would be something else.

It had started clear back in grade school, when it became obvious that Grady wasn’t like the other kids. Reading and writing hadn’t just come with difficulty for him, it hadn’t come at all. He’d dropped out in middle school and no one had ever seemed to care too much about getting him to go back. Especially his father.

Grady had tried to do better by Tracy, ensuring she not only finished high school but also went to college. Of course, so far her goal in life appeared to be seeing how much alcohol she could drink every night and how many parties she could attend before the sun rose. And occasionally after, as well. Grady figured it was out of his hands now. He sent money every so often—she was his sister, after all, and he couldn’t let her go completely under. It just made him more and more jealous of Isaiah and Josh. The bond between them was so strong, and they were only half-brothers. What Grady wouldn’t give to have someone in his life.

Someone who belonged just to him. Hell, he’d even settle for sharing. Just as long as he had
someone
in his life who gave a shit.

And he wanted that someone to be Isaiah. He’d always wanted that, ever since the lanky man had shown up on his ranch all those years ago. Green and wet behind the ears, with a shiny new diploma and enough enthusiasm for three people, the man had tugged at Grady’s heart from the very first. Now with Josh in the mix, Grady wanted to belong so badly he could almost taste it.

He remembered when Tracy had been that little, back before she’d learnt to hate him.

God, he’d loved having a kid around. Some of them just had that knack of brightening the world around them. Tracy had, once. Josh did now. Life on a ranch could be difficult, dangerous, each day filled with more tasks than could be completed. It was so easy to get bogged down in the daily grind without someone to remind you that life could be fun, too. It www.total-e-bound.com

THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 87

was one of the reasons Grady had hired Tommy. The man had such a cheerful outlook, sometimes too much so, at least according to Joseph. That, and the fact that his sexual orientation had become common knowledge. It often wasn’t safe on the rodeo circuit for a gay cowboy. When Grady had offered Tommy a job after the bull rider had been injured, Tommy hadn’t even needed to think about it before accepting.

Grady shut off the water with a near savage motion. This round and round whirl of thoughts wasn’t helping anyone, him least of all. It was time to go find something else to occupy himself with.

What Grady really wanted was to sleep, he thought, as he towelled his hair dry. But he knew himself well. If he tried right now, the thoughts would just continue to circle and he’d end up staring at the ceiling.

A quick swipe of the towel over his dripping skin and Grady yanked on jeans and a flannel shirt. He’d head out to the stable and try to find something to do. The horses soothed him when nothing else could.

And try to keep out of sight of Tommy and Josh. Isaiah had seen him already and Micah and Joseph would just shake their heads. But Tommy and Josh would take one look at his bruises and the cut on his cheekbone, now covered with a cartoon Band-Aid, and start in with the questions. Grady simply wasn’t up to an interrogation right now. He just wanted to bury himself in the familiar work routine and be alone to lick his wounds.

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 88

Josh swung his sneaker-clad feet back and forth, banging against the fence with each pass. From his perch on the top corral post, he had a good view of the whole yard. School was out for the weekend, his backpack abandoned in the grass. He should be excited—after all Tommy had promised him a trail ride tomorrow, and possibly a camp out. At the very least, there would be hotdogs and marshmallows.

Instead, he sat out here, trying to come up with reasons
not
to go inside.

Things were getting tense, the air in his new house crackling with anger and unspoken words. Josh was all too familiar with the situation. He hated it. It was like that summer he’d spent with his mom and his last stepdad, the one who was always angry and ended up moving to France or something.