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Max finally caught Brian in his peripheral. He ignored the plea in Brian’s eyes, not to do it, turned and took his aim…
Noooo! Brian released everything he’d held in the pit of his soul and called out to the most important person in his life… “Ford!” then lunged.
The gun went off next to his head, a teeth-rattling bang that had his ears instantly ringing. He slammed into Max Wright at full speed, his momentum and desperation taking them to the ground and sliding them both across the unforgiving concrete. The gun dislodged, the smoking steel clanging somewhere close by. Brian heard muffled shouts and yells through the ringing, but he didn’t know who they were coming from. He was pulled off Max Wright by strong hands, while they took over restraining him. Brian staggered upright, gripping his left ear, and scanning the dark parking lot. Ford! Bradford!
“Brian!” Dana was in his face, his brown eyes wild and crazy. He shoved past Dana, stumbling as he went, looking frantically for Ford. Did he stop it in time?
“It’s okay. He’s okay, B.”
But how? How was he okay? The gun had been pointed straight at his back.
“He heard you, Brian. We all did. He spun around when you yelled his name, and the bullet clipped his shoulder.”
Brian kept walking, trying to read Dana’s lips, but his vision wasn’t clear enough. His ears continued to ring, his head hurt from hitting the ground, and his body wasn’t too far behind. Still going on pure adrenaline, Brian put one heavy foot in front of the other. Sirens and red and blue lights swarmed them, officers jumping out of their vehicles demanding that someone explain what the hell had just happened. That was Duke’s job. Brian had one goal. Get to his brother.
Ford was watching Brian approach, while Quick held a large towel to his shoulder. Blood had seeped through the white material, but not enough to cause concern. While Quick tended to the flesh wound, Ford hadn’t taken his eyes off Brian’s. He didn’t know how any of it had worked out, but he thanked the heavens his brother was still standing with him. When he was only a couple of feet away, Brian saw the unshed tears in his brother’s eyes. He opened his big arms wide and Brian crushed into him. Ford’s arms sealed around him—damn a wound—and held him tight, while Brian let it all go.
“I heard you, Brian. I heard you,” Ford whispered in his ear, cupping the back of his neck with love. “So fuckin proud of you.”
Brian and Dana sat on the chairs just outside Ford’s room while Cayson stitched him up. The man had been home, relaxing, when Quick asked him to rush back to the hospital. No one worked on them but Cayson. Brian tilted his head back against the wall and swallowed roughly. He could feel his best friend beside him, his leg bouncing annoyingly.
When it seemed Dana couldn’t hold his tongue a moment longer he asked cautiously, “You good, B?”
Brian didn’t open his eyes. He had to somehow process what’d just happened and how it had happened. He wasn’t sure he fully understood it yet. He’d spoken—no, he’d yelled. Brian had felt it and he could remember, now that his heart had returned to its normal resting rhythm. Dana nudged him, and Brian leaned towards him, his eyes still closed. The lighting was harsh and messing with his throbbing head. His ankle felt tight in his boot from the overexertion. The ringing in his ears had subsided, now a dull ache resided in the left one. At least that goddamn rocket launcher hadn’t burst his eardrum.
“I’m good,” Brian signed heavily.
“You’re signing?” Dana said sounding confused and a little sad.
Brian slumped even lower. “My head hurts, Dana. Be quiet.”
“But… but you are going to talk now, right? Did you hear yourself? You were loud, B… you sounded like him,” Dana thumbed over his shoulder. “…like your brother.”
Brian opened his eyes and glared. “Will you please be quiet?” Dana was like a brother, but right now, he was more like a nagging little brother, yapping excitedly in his ear.
Dana was silent only a beat, leg bouncing, then turned again, “You gonna tell Sway?”
Brian got up, intent on taking a walk outside, when Dr. Chauncey pulled back Ford’s curtain. “Hey, Brian where you going? I want to check you out, too. You took a bad fall.”
“I’m fine.” Brian said, before the good doctor could go much further. “I landed on someone, not the ground. I’m good.”
Cayson smiled in that open, comforting way of his that made it almost impossible for any of them to refuse him. He clutched his brother’s chart to his chest and rubbed his neat, blond stubble, “I don’t know exactly what you just signed, my fluency in ASL is nonexistent, but it looks like you said, ‘sure, Cayson. Since you turned off a very gripping episode of Married at First Sight, abandoned your freshly popped bowl of popcorn and rushed back to work just for me and my brother; I am glad to go on behind this curtain and let you check me out. I mean… since you went through so much trouble and all.”
