Ammo and Enchiladas Read online

  If he was lucky, Travis would just hit him with a baseball bat, put him out of his misery.

  Not that Travis had a mean bone in his body. The guy taught second grade. No, Travis would give him big, sad eyes. And Brant would deserve them.

  Chapter Three

  LEX PULLED up to Travis’s house about five with coffees for them. His eyes burned, and he was running on caffeine and stress and grunge music. He blinked, hands on the wheel for a moment, willing the road noise to stop. His body felt as if it was still moving.

  It wasn’t. Hell, there had already been a dozen people at the house from what he’d heard, maybe more. Travis must have called in the whole phone tree. He’d just been the first.

  He sighed. Okay. Okay, he could do this. He climbed out of the truck, his body feeling a little like frozen rope. Travis’s house was lovely—a two-story McMansion in adobe with a flat roof and a balcony overlooking the East Mountains. It was always good to have a view. His place in Cruces looked out at the Organ Mountains, so he got it.

  The porch light was on, so he walked up, trying to convince his heavy feet to move. He knocked on the door, then saw the doorbell. He was about to ring it when the door opened. “Can I help you?” A tired, lean man with bright blue eyes stared at him, looking bleary.

  “Hey. Is Travis still awake?” Lex would go sleep in the truck if he needed to.

  “He is. You are…?”

  “Lex. Travis called me and asked me to come up.” He was too tired for this shit.

  “Of course. Sorry. I thought I recognized you. I’m Brant. Come on in. He’s in the bedroom. I’ll take you to him.”

  “Brant…. Oh, man, I’m so sorry. He said you were there.” Lex reached out to the guy instinctively.

  “Yeah.” Brant’s face tried to crumple.

  Oh, poor guy. Lex put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? Do you need to get some sleep?”

  “I’m trying to… I’m just trying to help. Do you need a cup of coffee?”

  “Oh God, no. I brought sausage biscuits.” He held up the bag. “I could eat, if there’s a place in the kitchen, but I want to see Trav first.”

  “Do you know where the master is?”

  “Uh. No.” He chuckled. “I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t been up since they bought this house.”

  “Come on. I’ll show you.” Brant grabbed a crutch and started moving up the stairs, nice and slow.

  “Hey, I can—” He cut himself off because Brant gave him this look over one shoulder. It said off-limits, so Lex let it slide.

  None of his.

  He was here for Travis.

  “There you go.” Brant jerked his chin toward the door at the end of the hall. “I’ll put your food away somewhere safe or it will get gone.”

  “Thank you, man. I appreciate it.” He handed over the bags and headed into the bedroom, feeling like he was walking a gauntlet.

  “Trav? Honey? Are you asleep?” He said it softly, not wanting to wake his friend up if he was resting.

  “I’m never going to sleep again, Lex.” Travis sat up, lean face drawn and streaked with tears. “Matty’s gone, Lex.”

  Lex went to sit on the bed next to Travis. “Oh. Hey. I’m so sorry, Trav.”

  Travis landed in his arms, the sobs hard and raw. Lex held on, giving what little comfort he could. What was he supposed to say? The man’s husband was gone.

  All he knew to do was make noises and hope his being there made things less awful. He stroked Travis’s hair and breathed. The bedroom was totally a couple’s space—two dressers, two chairs, pictures of the two of them on the walls. Jesus. He had only known Matt a little bit, phone calls at holidays, birthday presents because he had automatic shipping set up.

  Now he wished he knew more so when Travis inevitably began reminiscing, he could manage more than a smile and nod. Of course, maybe that was enough. If what he knew about Matt was through Travis, then he could know just what Travis told him.

  He shook his head, trying to just close his eyes and be there with Travis. If being a cop had taught him anything, it was to be any way people needed him to be in a crisis. Tough love to gentle sympathy, Lex could do them all.

  It was harder when it was someone you knew, someone you loved.

  When Travis was down to sniffles, Lex grabbed the box of Puffs on the closest nightstand. “Here, hon.”

  “Thanks. My head is killing me. I guess that’s normal.”

  “It is. Do you have a bottle of water?” That would help.

  “Brant brought a cooler up—water, pineapple juice. He’s a caretaker.”

  “What’s with his leg?” Couldn’t be easy, what with the crutches.

  “Brantley? He was shot in combat. Right in the hip.”

  “Oh, man. That sucks.” Joints were the worst.

  “Yeah, he was a field medic. He was rescuing someone. He’s a hero. He came out here after nursing school because of Matt. I bet he goes back to Texas now.”

  “Because of Matt?” Wait, had he missed something?

  “Yeah. Matt loved it so much, you know? And he just talked Albuquerque up. Great weather, great people—he left out the crazy crime part.”

  “Yeah.” He grimaced. That had gotten worse as people had gotten more desperate, but the Burque had always had a reputation. New Mexico was a poor state.

  “He was just getting gas.”

  “That sucks, honey. I’m so sorry.”

  “I mean, he would have given the guy anything. He didn’t fight, not Matt. Matt was gentle.”

  “No.” He tilted his head. “You don’t think his friend…?”

  “I don’t think his friend what?” Travis looked utterly confused.

  “Tried to fight back. Started a scuffle.” Contrary to what a faction of the public believed, fighting back, carrying a weapon to foil criminals, usually failed miserably.

  “He would have fought back, sure, but it went too fast. Brantley said the guy didn’t hesitate. Either it was a hair trigger or he just shot. There wasn’t a chance.”

  “Oh.” He patted Travis’s arms, which he still held. “Oh God.” He’d seen it happen, and it was just pure reaction.

  “Yeah. He said it was fast. He said Matt never hurt. That he never even knew.”

  “I imagine not. Can I get you anything?” He felt useless. Was he really helping? Jesus, he hoped so.

  “No. No, I just… I’m glad you’re here. There’s going to be all this… stuff. Funeral and police and news cameras….”

  “I’ll help any way I can.” That he knew how to manage. Police. Media people. Funerals he had less experience with, but how hard could it be? They walked you through it.

  “Thank you. Thank you. Brantley set up the guest room for you. Made the bed up and everything.”

  “Oh, I’ll have to thank him.” And retrieve his food. “Do you want to sleep now, honey? I can buzz off for a while and get some rest too.”

  “I’ll try. Brantley promised to hang out and deal with shit.”

  “Then we have a team. You want me to stay and sleep in here?” He so would if Trav needed him.

  “Go have some food and coffee. I’ll call you, huh? I just want… I want him to come home.”

  “I know.” That much he did know. He’d heard it a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. He gave Travis a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be downstairs and then in the guest room. Text me for anything.”

  “Okay.” The sobs started up again, but what could he do? At this point, Travis was going to have to mourn. Maybe he just needed to cry it out until he slept.

  Lex slipped out of the room and headed downstairs to hunt up his biscuits. He found Brantley in the kitchen, sitting with his head in his hands.

  “Hey, man. Do you need anything?” Lex asked, feeling bad for the guy, who was pale, his face lined.

  “No. No, you need coffee? I put your biscuits in the microwave.”

  “Is there anything like milk? Trav always used to have some. I think I drank enough coff
ee to burn a hole in my stomach.” Lex needed that food. “Hey, I got enough to share if you want.”

  “I’ll get you a glass.” Brant stood slowly, the man looking eighty years old.

  “I can do it.”

  Brant gave him that same look, the one from the stairs. “I’m not helpless, buddy. I can get a damn glass.”

  “I was just trying to help. You look beat. And beat up.”

  “Just been a shit day.”

  Yeah, for all of them, but for this guy most of all, he’d bet.

  Lex grabbed the milk out of the fridge. Okay, he would get groceries later today. Travis and Matt ate like birds, but he worked out at least an hour a day, and he ate to fuel his muscles. He needed to make a list.

  He poured a glass of milk for himself, then hovered the carton over the other glass Brant had pulled out, raising his eyebrows.

  “Please.” Brantley went to the microwave and pulled the bag of biscuits out.

  “Sure. There’s enough for both of us to have two biscuits and a hash brown. It would be nice if I don’t have to eat breakfast alone.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be happy to.”

  “Cool.” That was… well, it was cool. If he could make things easier for anyone involved, then he was doing his job. Or his good work, or being a friend. God, he was so tired he was losing it. He tugged a biscuit out of the bag.

  “The guest room is ready for you, when you’re ready for it.”

  “Where are you sleeping?”

  “I’m just dealing with stuff down here.”

  “That wasn’t what I asked. Look, I brought an air mattress. I have it in my truck. You can have the guest bed, and I can sack out on the floor.”

  “Huh?” Brant looked utterly confused, totally.

  “After breakfast. You need sleep. Enough I would worry about you driving home.” He didn’t want the guy to cause an accident or hurt himself or something. Travis would freak out.

  “I’ll just sit up in the front room. People will come.” And soon Mr. Brant was going to snap all in half.

  “We can take turns with folks, if need be.” He opened Brant’s biscuit and pushed it over. “Come on, man. Trav says you’re a nurse. You know how important it is to keep up your strength.”

  “Yeah.” Brant stared at the food like it was alive and moving.

  “Hey.” He reached over to touch the back of Brant’s hand. “One bite. That will be enough to make it start to taste good, huh?”

  “You swear?”

  “Yeah, man. I do. I swear. One bite.”

  Brant nodded and picked a bite off the biscuit. Sure enough, after Brant washed it down with some milk, he grabbed the hash brown and munched at it too. Excellent. The color came back into Brant’s face, even if the heavy lines didn’t fade.

  They finished up in silence, and Lex’s ass was dragging hard by the time he took his last bite. Brant put the glasses in the dishwasher, so he tossed the trash.

  “How about that nap?”

  “People….”

  “There are two women in the living room, man. They can handle anything, I bet.”

  “I don’t even remember who they are.” Brantley began to shake, violently.

  “Come on. Do you need the crutch?” He would just support Brant up the stairs.

  “No. No, I only use it when the pain is really bad….”

  Oh, man. Poor baby. This was shock. Real, genuine shock. Lex knew how to deal with that. Warm blankets and sleep. He steered Brant up the stairs, then to the guest room that had been indicated. “Bathroom?”

  “That’s the guest room, sir.”

  “Uh-huh. You’re coming with me. We’ll rest together.” Lex took Brant’s arm, leading the way. He’d get the guy settled, then go get the air mattress.

  They got into the room, Lex opening up the door and finding a classy-assed, decorated in the Santa Fe–style guest room.

  “I made it up for you.” Brantley was barely holding on, barely with him.

  “You did. Still, we can share. No one will know.” Hell, there was a freaking king bed in here. They could split it, no air mattress required. He eased Brantley down on the bed.

  “I need to… help. I tried to.”

  “You did. Now it’s time to rest.” He stripped off Brant’s shirt before encouraging him to stretch out. “Shoes too.”

  Brant was covered in little bruises, looked like from the impact of Matt against him, and his hands were destroyed. Christ. He wanted to make Brant wash up, but not for any reason but comfort. It could wait.

  They stretched out together, leaving a careful space between each other.

  Lex thought it would be really hard to sleep next to someone, since he never did. He expected it to keep him awake, tossing and turning.

  It didn’t.

  Chapter Four

  CRYING WOKE him up, and he shot out of bed, stumbling a few steps before crashing to the ground, his leg giving out.

  “Coming. Coming.” He crawled toward Travis, toward the sobs. “I’m on my way.”

  “Wha?” That voice came from behind him, the sound utterly disorienting. He shook it off, hitting the door to find Travis sitting in the doorway to the master, face in his hands.

  “Hey. Hey, honey.” Brant got to him, tugged Travis into his arms. “I got you.”

  God. This broke his heart. He wasn’t even awake enough to do this.

  “I was dreaming. Oh God, what an awful dream. There were worms.”

  “Shh. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” Maybe. Someday.

  “I don’t know.” Travis was just—this wasn’t fake. This was devastation.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”

  “Why wasn’t it you? Why was it him?”

  Brant felt himself shrink. He didn’t know. He’d been in the car for most of it. He’d been digging in his wallet for some cash for the Sonic. They’d wanted cherry limeades. He’d wrenched himself out when he heard the yelling.

  “Hey.” The Lex guy was there in seconds, lifting Travis up off the floor. “Let’s get you back to bed, and I’ll bring you something to help you sleep without the bad dreams. Huh?”

  “I want him home, Lex. I need him home.”

  Brant headed to the stairwell, scooting on his butt to pull himself up. Travis was screaming, sobbing hysterically, and Brant worked down the stairs, then called one of the doctors at his office to explain he needed something. He needed help.

  “Hey, Brant. What’s up?” Naomi would have his back.

  “You heard about what happened last night?”

  “Yeah. It’s all over the news.”

  “I need Xanax, something. Please.” He didn’t know what Travis had up there, but he knew he’d need something if things didn’t ease up.

  “I’ll talk to Sharon. No worries. Are you okay?”

  “No.” No, he wasn’t, but he had to be.

  “I’m sorry, kiddo. You just tell us what you need.”

  “Just a few days off and that script, please. Pharmacy info’s in my file.”

  “You got it.” They hung up, and he winced, thinking how Travis had asked why not him.

  That was a good question. Why not him? Matty was the first one out of the car. Matty was the one who was driving. Matty was the one who was going to pump the gas. He was the one with the wallet out. Matty was the one without the shattered hip and the THC candy that took the edge off.

  But Travis didn’t know or care about that. He’d lost a husband, and Brant was just… the husband’s best friend.

  “You okay?” Lex appeared in the kitchen, almost making him fall down again.

  He nodded once, his voice just gone. What did he have to say? Why hadn’t it been him?

  “Liar.” Lex said it gently, the way any stranger would when looking at him, probably.

  “Yeah. Well. It was a rough night.” And Travis hated him.

  “I’m sorry. Travis didn’t mean it, right.” Lex was watching him, that expression knowing.

>   “Sure he did. I can’t blame him. He loves Matt.”

  “Yes.” Lex sighed. “I see it a lot. People lash out because they’re hurting so bad.”

  “Yeah. I’m a nurse. I get that. I do.” He dealt with brand-new babies, with cranky toddlers, with hysterical teenagers. And then there were the parents. Jesus.

  “Yeah? I have a friend who’s an ER doctor in Cruces. He gets a lot of freaked-out people.”

  “ER is a fast-paced job. Takes a certain type of person.”

  “It does. What are you in?” Lex started making coffee, the K-cup maker easy to spot, its little rack right next to it, full of coffee pods.

  “Pediatrics.” He sat there like a lump, a sore, aching lump.

  “Oh, ow. Kids. That has to be heartbreaking.” Lex made two cups. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Both, please.” His belly was raw, acidy as fuck.

  “You got it. Would you rather have another glass of milk? Or tea? Wasn’t Matt a tea drinker…?”

  “He was, yeah. We teased him endlessly. The coffee will be fine.”

  “Okay.” Lex fixed a cup before handing it to him.

  “Thank you, sir.” Brantley watched his hand shake, and he took a deep drink.

  “You’re welcome.” Lex sat again. “Look, I only had two sleeping pills. I had them just in case, you know? Can we call Travis’s doctor and get something for him?”

  “I have a call in to my guy. I’d be happy to call his doctor, if I can figure out who that is.”

  “Okay. We’ll find his address book. He always had one. Maybe it’s on his phone now.”

  “Are you in Las Cruces still?” He knew he’d heard Lex’s name, some, but he hadn’t known much.

  “I am, yeah. I drove up.” Lex stifled a yawn.

  “You’re a good man. Thank you for letting me share your bed.”

  “No problem. No way were you driving home.”

  “I told Travis I’d stay as long as he needed. The police are going to want to talk to me again, and the news vans are out there.”

  “Oh, shit. I didn’t even think of that. I guess this is news, huh?” Lex sighed, shaking his head. “I usually get to leave, so I miss a lot of this shit.”

  “Yeah. I guess.” He didn’t know. He didn’t care.