Beautifully Stolen - Charity Parkerson Page 0,6

it to his mouth and kissed the back. With his eyes closed, he inhaled Brett’s scent. He smelled familiar. Nostalgia washed over him, but he couldn’t place the scent. Brett leaned his way and kissed Roman’s cheek. Roman turned his head, capturing Brett’s lips. Their lips clung, sweetly lingering. Roman craved. There was no other word for it. Brett made him want things he had never cared about before. Roman couldn’t explain it.

“You’re not seducing me,” Brett said, pulling away. Brett stared at him so long that Roman almost forgot where they were. He swallowed the desire choking him. “I know.” He really did. Brett was the one seducing him. “The light is green.”

Brett looked away and went. The world exploded. The air left Roman’s lungs as something slammed into his face. He fought to breathe as pain vibrated through him and screeching metal assailed his ears. He fought his way through the white cloud attacking him and sucked air. There was a horn that wouldn’t stop blowing. When the haze finally cleared, Roman’s confusion evaporated. They had been hit. Fear slammed into him as he caught sight of Brett. He was slumped over the steering wheel, unmoving. Roman quickly unsnapped his seatbelt and reached for Brett. He moved slow, hoping not to make any injuries worse. Brett was limp—like there was no life in his body. Blood covered his face and poured from his nose. Roman checked his pulse. It felt strong. He didn’t hesitate to peel off his shirt and use it to stem the blood running freely down Brett’s face.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. Wake up. We need to get out of this car.”

People swarmed the car, trying to open Roman’s door. Someone knocked on the window and asked if they were okay. Everything was a low hum on the outskirts of his panic. Brett wasn’t regaining consciousness and the entire driver’s side was caved in. A large dark-colored truck was parked where the steering wheel should have been. The more Roman’s mind cleared, the worse things looked. He threw open his door and scrambled onto his knees, trying to unbuckle Brett’s seat belt. It took some doing, but he managed to cram his hand in between Brett’s body and the center console to get it undone. Things were way closer to Brett than they should have been. With so much damage, he worried the car might catch fire and there was no way Brett could get out through his side.

Brett suddenly screamed out in pain—like he went from unconscious to waking up in hell in an instant.

Roman pressed his lips to Brett’s forehead, trying to cling to sanity. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Tell me what hurts.”

In a panic, Brett tried looking around. He fought Roman while coming to grips with reality. “Goddamn. I’m stuck. I can’t move my legs.” The more Brett struggled and the more his terror grew, the more helpless Roman became. Sirens filled the air and Roman prayed for them to get closer while trying his best to keep Brett calm.

“Shhh. Help is coming.”

Brett’s dark blue gaze latched on to Roman. He held Roman’s stare and visibly fought for sanity. Roman clung to him, trying to keep him calm. Brett tried to move again. Another cry escaped him, ratcheting up Roman’s fear. Brett went limp—like the life left his body again. Roman fought the urge to scream for help. He didn’t know what to do. Roman had never been more terrified in his life. Time creeped by, making him feel like help would never arrive while Brett suffered from god only knew what injuries. He needed Brett to be okay. They still had things to discuss. Memories to make. Brett had countless people who looked to him for a bright future. Roman would keep him safe. He would make him better. If it was the last thing he did, Roman would see Brett smile again.

Three

The inside of Brett’s mouth felt like he had been licking shag carpeting for hours. His eyes were gritty as he peeled them open. He hadn’t felt this bad since the last time he got the flu. The more he rejoined the world of the living, the less he wanted to be there. Everything hurt. Not just a little—like he had slept wrong, but a lot—like he had been hit by a fast-moving truck. Oh yeah. He had. The hazy memory of Roman keeping him calm creeped into Brett’s brain. His foot had been pinned and felt