Page 33 of Broken Wheels (CrossBow Protection Book 2)

Josh scanned the living room.“Where’s your best bud?” Coby lay in his bed, asleep, curled into a tiny furry ball.

At the dining table, Dixon frowned. “You talking about Chalmers?”

“You mean you have another best friend?” he teased. “I’m impressed.” It wasn’t often that he yanked Dixon’s chain, but it was fast becoming Josh’s favorite hobby.

“He said he’ll be back soon. He had something to do.”

Josh frowned. “I hope he’s being careful.”

“You think he’s in danger?”

“I think he’s probably breaking a shit ton of rules for us. And then there’s his missing boss….” Josh shivered.

Stepping outside of CrossBow had become a scary prospect.

“I’m sure Chalmers can take care of himself,” Dixon said in a confident tone.

He glanced at Dixon. “So…. Wanna tell me what’s going on between you and Chalmers?”

Dixon froze. “What do you mean? There’s nothing going on.”

Josh shrugged. “I don’t know. The two of you seem awfully chummy lately. Almost like, you know, besties would be.”

Dixon put down his phone and looked Josh in the eye. “You know I love you, right?”

Josh would bet money his grin looked downright goofy. “Yeah, I know.”

“Well, when it comes to Chalmers? Right now, there’s a fine line between love and hate.”

“What do you mean?” Something in Dixon’s voice made Josh’s stomach clench.

Dixon sighed. He got up from his chair, took Josh’s hand, and led him to the couch where they sat. “Chalmers reminds me of someone, that’s all.”

“Who?”

“Whitlock Abbott. He was my best friend growing up, but anyone looking at us would have said we were unlikely buds.” Dixon smiled. “He was the good boy, while I was your typical troublemaker. We were like most kids our age, constantly trying to one-up each other. If he got a B on a test, I got an A. If he got a car, I got a better one. He dated one of the cheerleaders, so I went out with the head cheerleader—and then reminded him constantly she was known as the head cheerleader for a reason.” Josh gasped, and Dixon chuckled. “It was pure bluff, just the kind of bullshit teen boys come out with. Plus, it was stupid, and something I’d never do now. I think it’s fair to say I’ve grown to respect people, not try to make myself look better by using them.” He covered his eyes. “Like I did to Whit.”

Cold inched its way through Josh’s body.

“What happened?”

Dixon pushed out another sigh, but this time, it was a deep, painful sound. “We went down to the creek to do some swimming. Well, that was what we told our parents. The truth was, we’d snagged some beer and we’d gone down there to get wasted. We stripped down, drank all fourteen bottles, then lay out in the sun.”

“Fourteen?” Josh forgot his anxiety for a moment and gaped at him. “I can’t even manage two.”

Dixon laughed. “I’m not saying I could manage that much now. But it felt great—until a hand landed on my dick. I jerked my head up and found Whit looking at me as if asking permission, his fingers wrapped around my shaft, his mouth inches from it.”

Josh bit his lip. “I can’t see you refusing a blow job.” Not that he liked the idea of someone else’s lips stretched around Dixon’s thick cock, but it was a long time ago.

Dixon smiled. “Wow. It’s like you know me. Yeah. I nodded, and he went down on me. Despite what I’d told him about my exploits with the cheerleader, it was my first time, and after, I got really freaked out about it. I told him to stay the fuck away from me and called him things I regret to this day.” Dixon shook his head. “I never even told him I wanted to do the same thing to him.”

“Oh.” Josh squeezed Dixon’s hand. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“Me too. One of the few things I regret about my childhood. I found him on social media a while back. He’s married to a guy and they’re living in Seattle. They’ve got a little girl, and in their pictures, they look so happy. And because of my stupidity, I missed out on it.”

Josh wished he had some magic words to take away the obviously bad memory. “Have you tried reaching out to him?”

Dixon waved a hand. “Naw, that’s all water under the bridge by now.”

Josh studied him for a moment. “Can I say something to you?”

“Of course.”

“If you still think about it until this day, then maybe Whit does too.” Josh cocked his head to one side. “What if you reach out and help to put his mind at ease? You said he was your best friend, so you know him better than me.”

Dixon leaned back against the cushions. “We got in a fight once, where he called me some name or other.” He huffed. “I don’t even remember what it was now, but back then, I was hurt. He came to me the next day and apologized, and all was right with the world again. We never stopped being friends.”

“Then why not give him what he might need? Yes, he might tell you to go screw yourself, but he might also want to talk with you. Tell you he understands.” He gave Dixon’s hand another squeeze. “Don’t write him off. Be his best friend again.” He nudged Dixon’s shoulder. “And if nothing else, you’ll still have Chalmers.”

Dixon snorted. “You know, I always understood that you were smart. I didn’t realize smartass was also one of your many skills.”

Josh snickered. “I’m learning from the best.” He leaned over and kissed Dixon. “I honestly think you need this closure too.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. I’ll figure out something.”

Then his phone rang, and Josh heard Grayson telling Dixon that Chalmers had arrived and asking if he could come up. When Dixon ended the call, the conversation went back to business.

Josh wanted to hear more about Dixon’s childhood. Maybe one day they could do it again.

“You don’t mindif I stick around?” Chalmers asked, sipping the freshly brewed coffee. “I mean, seeing as your boss is coming.”

“Bosses,” Josh corrected. “And I think they should meet you, especially if you’re going to help us. Well, you and Grady.” More than that, he wanted some backup when he informed Gary and Michael of his suspicions.

“Not sure how much help I can be,” Chalmers admitted. He shook his head. “What we could do with right now is my boss. That guy could find a virtual needle in a digital haystack.” The skin around his mouth tightened, and Josh knew what had crossed his mind.

Is his boss another victim?Lord, Josh hoped not.

There was a knock at the door, and Dixon went to open it. Gary entered the apartment, closely followed by Michael. All it took was one glance for Josh to realize this was not a good day. Gary was pale, his movements more measured than usual.

“There’s coffee if you want it,” Dixon told them, indicating the larger couch.

Michael helped Gary to his seat, only to be rebuffed when he tried to move the pillow closer.

Gary’s face contorted. “Go away, Mom.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Fine. Be in pain. See if anyone cares, you cranky asshole.”

Josh was stunned into silence. Dixon held Coby, staring at the two men as if he’d rather be anywhere else but there.

“Maybe we?—”

“No,” Gary snapped, cutting Michael off. “We came to listen to what they had to say, so let’s do that.”

Michael glared at him. “You’ve been like this all day long. If you won’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help.”

Gary’s face twisted in anger. “Who said I need your help? I’m a fucking adult, and you keep treating me like a child.”

Michael rubbed his nose. “Did you ever stop to think it’s because you’re acting like one?”

A tide of red rose up Gary’s neck, staining his cheeks. “Fuck you.”

Michael didn’t even blink. “Right back at you, babe.”

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Gary sat, his back rigid, but a moment later, he winced and squeezed his eyes shut tight. “I hurt, okay? A lot. This morning I dropped my pants as I was getting dressed. I know I should have called you, but I thought, you know, I could do it myself. As I leaned over, something popped, and all of a sudden, there was like a fireball roaring up my spine. I took my meds, but it hasn’t really dulled the pain.”

Michael sighed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Gary stared at him. “Because I’m sick to death of being an invalid. What makes it worse? I know it’s my own goddamn fault.” He swallowed hard. “I just want to be a whole partner for you, and a whole friend for everyone else.” He grimaced. “All this pillow-fluffing and coddling is like chewing tinfoil. You’d think I’d be used to it, but I’m not.”

Michael sat beside him and reached for his hand. “If you ever get used to it, then I’ll worry,” he said softly. “Tomorrow we’ll go to the doctor. And if you feel it’s bad enough right now, we can head to the emergency room.”

Gary shook his head. “Tomorrow is fine.”

Josh cleared his throat. “You know what we should have here? A clinic. Hire a doctor or two, a few nurses, outfit a room for them, and then anyone from CrossBow, or the families that live here, can be seen right away.”

Michael stilled. “That’s brilliant.” He turned to Gary. “We have space on the fourth floor we can use.”

Gary nodded. “We also have that area on the first floor. We were going to create a meditation area there, but we moved that outside.”

“First floor would be better,” Dixon commented. “In case agents come in from outside, there won’t be layers of security for them to go through.”

“I’ll get to work on it tomorrow.” Michael focused on Josh. “I’m sorry. You called us here to tell us something.”

Before Josh could reply, Gary whispered to Michael, “Could I have the pillow?”

Josh waited until Gary was settled before sharing his theory, with both Dixon and Chalmers adding bits here and there. Michael and Gary listened in silence, and when Josh was done, they stared at him.

Josh had half-expected that reaction.

“You think it’s a crazy idea, don’t you?”

Michael coughed. “Not crazy, no. But I think Grady was right. You’re going to need proof. A lot of proof.”

Gary expelled a long breath. “Just when you think you’ve heard everything.” He gazed at Josh. “About your idea that he’s gonna run for president…. He hasn’t mentioned it, and it’s a little late if he plans on being nominated for November.”

Josh shook his head. “I think he’s playing the long game. Maybe he’s set his sights on 2028. That gives him lots of time to really put himself in the public eye.”

“I’d like to say your theory is farfetched.” Gary sighed. “Unfortunately, there are some fucked-up individuals out there who are probably capable of atrocities I couldn’t even imagine.” He raised his chin and looked Josh in the eye. “I have faith in you. If the proof is out there, you’ll find it.”

Michael leaned into him. “And now you’re going to go lie down.”

Gary smiled. “Only if you lie down with me.”

Josh watched them, warmth flowing through him.

NowI have what they have.

Someone to love.

Michael and Gary headed for the door. Before they reached it, Gary turned. “Any help you need in finding that proof, you’ve got it, okay? All our resources are at your disposal.” He set his jaw. “Because if this is what Spencer is up to, we can’t let him get away with it.” With that, Michael put his arm around Gary, and they went out the door.

“Doc?”

Josh turned. Dixon held out a cup of coffee.

He chuckled. “You’d better make more. We’re going to need it.”

Something was bothering Doc,and Dix didn’t have a fucking clue what it was.

Chalmers was working on a laptop, his brow creased in a permanent frown. Dix was doing his best to keep both men fed and watered, at the same time checking in with the front desk to make sure all was well.

Doc hadn’t stopped tapping on his keyboard for the past hour, his eyes glued to the screen, his concentration impressive.

Dix poured him another coffee and set the cup down on the dining table. “Doc, take a break.”

Doc snorted. “Sure. Make me feel even more useless than I already do.”

“Doc? What do you mean? You’re not useless.” Dix put his hand on Doc’s shoulder, but he shrugged free of the contact. “Hey.”

Doc jerked his head in Dix’s direction. “Everyone around here is busy doing something useful—except me.” Before Dix could protest, Doc pointed a finger at Dix’s chest. “You’re protecting me. Chalmers is trying to get us information that he shouldn’t even be looking for.”

“I’m sure I’ll pay for it at some point,” Chalmers called out from across the room. “The agency takes a very dim view of going over their heads, but if what you—what we—suspect is going on, then it needs to be done.”

“But you’re doing something vital,” Doc continued. “Gary and Michael are using their resources to help as much as they can. I’m not doing one thing to help us along.”

Dix opened his mouth, but Doc held up a hand.

“Don’t. Please. I don’t want or need platitudes right now.” He got out of his chair and started pacing. “I’ve decided to try a different tack. I’m looking at Spencer’s public schedule, which I found online.”

“Why?”

“I’m crosschecking it against all of the poisonings to see if there is a correlation. Of course, I have to keep in mind it’s more than likely he has someone else doing the dirty work for him. I’m also seeing how long it took to mobilize his so-called ‘team’ to be at the affected areas, then looking at the time it took for them to arrive.”

“What will that tell you?” Dix asked.

“I’m extrapolating travel time to determine where they’re actually coming from.” Doc narrowed his gaze. “I don’t care what anyone says. No one, regardless of the money they have or the setup they are in charge of, can roll out exactly what’s needed and have it all on the ground, ready to go, at little more than a moment’s notice. I mean, if he’s dealing with a poisoning, that requires special gear to clean up. Why would he have that much in stock? Why does he have it in such quantities so near a potential disaster?” Doc scraped his hand through his already unruly hair. “None of this makes sense.”

Dix was impressed. “That’s what makes you our resident genius, Doc. You’re always thinking.”

Doc sighed. “My so-called genius isn’t meant for the things you guys are doing. I recognize my limitations, and I try to find ways to compensate.” He met Dix’s gaze, his eyes troubled. “The more I learn about Spencer, the more I realize he’s not seeing his limits. I’ve listened to the things he says. Want to know what I think? He truly believes there’s nothing he can’t do.”

Dix’s phone rang. It was Michael. He clicked Answer. “What’s up?”

“Turn on your TV. ABC News, right now.”

The urgency in Michael’s voice had him scrabbling for the remote. When he found the channel, his heart sank.

“Holy fuck.” Dix wanted to throw up.

“What’s wrong? Why have you—” Doc gave a strangled gasp.

“Oh my God.” Chalmers joined them, his eyes wide.

The rolling banner across the bottom of the screen proclaimed the stark details: Stutton, Arkansas, 2,348 deaths. The well-dressed anchorman looked gravely into the camera.

“For those just joining us, breaking news. Our own Kent McCormick has been sent an amateur video showing an attack on the town of Stutton, Arkansas. It happened four hours ago as a twin-engine Cessna flew over the town and released a mist into the air. We warn viewers, the images they’re about to see are disturbing and viewer discretion is advised. Also, we ask that you not allow children to view this video.”

It was as the talking head said. The small plane flew high in the sky, then tilted downward, leveling out above the town. A few moments later, a thick mist streamed earthward. For whatever reason, people on the streets stood with their faces upturned as the haze filled the area. Almost immediately, people fell, choking, clawing at their throats?—

And then dying.

“Turn it off!” Doc shrieked.

Dix flicked the television off, then went to Doc and pulled him into an embrace, but Doc was having none of it.

“I should have done something about this years ago. Every one of these people died because of me.”

“Stop it!” Chalmers ordered. “You didn’t make the damn toxin, you didn’t distribute it, and you’re sure as hell not responsible for what this asshole is doing.” He pointed to the TV. “Ask yourself one thing. This happened how many hours ago, and we’re only learning about it now?” He snatched the remote from Dix’s hand and aimed it at the TV. “Sorry, but this is important. We need to see this.”

The report had gone live to the site, and Dix wasn’t surprised to see Spencer dressed in a hazmat suit, a microphone thrust at him.

“Mr. Spencer, you had your hazmat teams on the ground within two hours, but news only got out about this terrible incident an hour ago. Why weren’t we informed at once?”

“It was decided to delay sharing news until the area had been declared safe to enter. As soon as we got the all clear, I ordered my teams to get in there and begin the cleanup.”

“But why isn’t the government here?”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat. “We’ve got an agreement with them. They’re sending troops to quell looting and to keep order, but we feel with tensions this high, it would be best if we take the lead.”

“The body count is now as high as twenty-five hundred, and we’ve learned many of them were kids, as one of the places the plane buzzed was a school.”

Spencer’s face was grim. “This is a tragedy on a scale we haven’t experienced before.”

Chalmers growled. “This is total bullshit. He said no one was allowed in until it was declared safe, but that amateur video the news network received… who shot it? Because if that was a member of the public, on their phone, they’d be dead too. And it had to be taken as the plane came over.” His face was grim. “So someone knew enough to film the event. Someone who wore fucking protective gear, you know, like the kind Spencer’s people use in areas like this.”

“Listen!” Doc yelled.

“Mr. Spencer, do you have any thoughts on why someone would do this?”

He grabbed the microphone and glared into the camera. “It’s our belief that this is a new terror cell carrying out attacks on US soil. While I’m not at liberty to divulge classified materials, it seems the group is centered in the US, and its leader is a citizen.”

What the everloving fuck?