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Brad's Rock [Rescue for Hire 7] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)
Brad's Rock [Rescue for Hire 7] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Read online
Rescue for Hire 7
Brad’s Rock
Top tracker Rock Morrison travels from Alaska to interview with Rescue for Hire. Short and wiry, sporting long dreadlocks, tattoos, and piercings, Rock knows what he wants, and now, after meeting Brad Hayward, who he wants.
Brad Hayward may be tall, muscled, and an all-American blond. But losing his children in a tragic event, and an overbearing mother, has left him a shell of a man. Rock takes him away to heal and discover the joys of two men being together. Life starts looking up for Brad until his mother shows up with vile threats and brain-numbing demands.
Rock has his hands full on his first mission finding a missing dementia-afflicted old man, confronting Brad’s mother, and tracking down an on-the-run Brad. Not all take-charge bad boys are tall and muscled. Not all battered souls are twinks. But with the Rescue for Hire men, it’s always a fun ride as their love conquers all.
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary
Length: 31,227 words
BRAD’S ROCK
Rescue for Hire 7
Bellann Summer
EVERLASTING CLASSIC
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove
BRAD’S ROCK
Copyright © 2015 by Bellann Summer
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-967-5
First E-book Publication: January 2015
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
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This is Bellann Summer’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Bellann Summer’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
In times of trouble there is always someone somewhere to lean on. You just have to open your heart and mind to find them. This one is for those quiet heroes who support.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
About the Author
BRAD’S ROCK
Rescue for Hire 7
BELLANN SUMMER
Copyright © 2015
Prologue
Brad Hayward lifted the steaming mug of coffee to his lips and glanced at the small television mounted in the corner of the bright yellow kitchen.
“Dad, I need to be picked up after volleyball practice today.” Thirteen-year-old Megan was gathering all of her books and papers together. Brad had spent most of the evening before helping her with homework. Some nights Brad wondered whether he or his children were attending school.
“I have football practice, Dad. Don’t forget about me,” eleven-year-old Braden chimed in between taking a bite of his toast and gulping down his orange juice.
“I’m invited over to Jake’s house for supper,” Terry chimed in. At ten, he had a bunch of best friends and was the social butterfly of the family.
“I’ll be there. If an emergency comes up, I’ll see if Grandma or Grandpa can pick you up,” he answered.
“Okay,” all three children answered in unison, but he knew they were only seeing the smartphones in their hands.
Brad’s own phone rang. The notes of a song about letting the dogs out told Brad it was the clinic.
“This is Brad,” he answered.
“Brad, can you come in? Gretchen’s leg needs to be drained right away.” Dr. Ruben’s voice, as usual, was brisk and to the point. It was the slight edge in his tone that told Brad the small pony they had operated on yesterday was in trouble.
“I’ll be right there,” Brad answered.
“Thanks.” The short ping in Brad’s ear signaled the call had ended. Brad shook his head at his boss’s ever efficient mannerisms.
Walking out of the kitchen and through the spotlessly clean house, Brad shook his head in frustration. Three kids and the place hardly looked lived in. He was a veterinarian and they didn’t even have a dog. Sometimes he wondered why he kept failing everyone in his life.
Brad entered the master bedroom that he hadn’t slept in for the last three years. That was when he and Tracy decided to give up the charade that sex between them was anything but a duty. Bent over slightly in front of her vanity mirror, his wife of a little over thirteen years struggled to close the ends of her earring together.
“I’ve been called into the clinic. Can you take the kids to school?” he asked.
Tracy turned toward him. Her face sad but determined as she looked at Brad. “Sure. Then I have an appointment with my lawyer.”
“That was fast. We only talked about it last night.”
“Come on, Brad, this has been coming for a long time. We’ve tried our best, but we both need something else.” Tracy walked over and put her hand on the side of his face. “Promise me that you
will live your own life from now on. Your brother Tyler broke free from your mother, and now I’m finally strong enough to grab onto my own happiness. This is your chance, Brad. Take it and run.”
“I’ve got to go,” he said. Turning away, he walked to the doorway before swinging around to face her again.
In her early thirties, Tracy appeared vibrant and happy. She always had that look when she found someone who could give her what he couldn’t. Over the years she’d thought she found the one to make her happy, but they never stayed around for long, until the latest. Brad couldn’t be anything but happy for her. She had been stuck in the hell of both their mother’s expectations as much as he was.
Brad knew Tracy was right in her advice and in ending their marriage. But as was his way of living life, he would deal with things when he had to. Not thinking too much about anything helped him stay sane.
“It’ll all work out for the best, Brad. You’ll see,” Tracy said.
Brad left the bedroom, his wife, and what little that was left of his marriage and went back into the kitchen. He kissed each of his children, even though Braden thought he was too old for Dad’s kiss, and left the house.
Backing his Chevy Trailblazer SUV out of the driveway, Brad looked over at the huge backhoe digging up the street in front of his house. The coming weeks commuting to work were going to be a pain. His was going to have to plan a new route that no doubt would take longer and mess up his day-to-day schedule. He wondered why he even bothered to be irritated. This was how his life worked.
His only hope was that the utility company didn’t run into any problems putting the new water piping under the street. A bonus would be if they kept the mess to a minimum. Again, Brad wasn’t holding his breath at that happening.
Continuing down the block away from the construction and his house, Brad could only speculate on where his life was going with all of the changes that were about to occur.
* * * *
Behind him one of the workers for the utility company frantically signaled the backhoe driver to stop the huge piece of equipment. The metal bucket quit moving with a jerk, hitting against the side of a large rock and causing a spark.
Later, the news feeds would report that investigators concluded the explosion that rocked an entire three-block area, was caused by the workers damaging a natural gas pipe. They would describe in great detail how a total of three houses on either side of the backhoe were demolished, killing everyone inside.
Brad only remembered bits and pieces of the accident. Later he found out his SUV had been thrown through the air and crashed into a group of cars parked on the side of the street. Everyone told Brad he was lucky to be alive. He wasn’t so sure.
Chapter One
One year later
Brad sat in the oversized rocker-recliner, eyes glued to his last three full-size bottles of whiskey sitting on the cheap pressboard coffee table in front of him. It was nine o’clock in the morning, and for the first time since the day after the memorial service for his wife and children, he hadn’t had a drink, yet.
Scanning the worn, out of date room nervously, Brad drew a deep breath into his lungs. He needed to keep a clear head for a little while longer. At least until he made a decision. Yesterday both his brothers had called him before nine o’clock, just after he had staggered out of bed. They had tried calling him multiple times during the weeks before, but he had been too drunk to talk to them.
Brian had reached him first. “Brad, are you okay to talk to me?”
“If you’re asking me if I’m drunk, then the answer is no, not yet,” he answered.
“It’s been a year, and I know it hurts. Maybe it’s time for a change of scenery?” Brad could hear the concern in Brian’s voice, and for the first time in months, he was ready to listen.
“What are you saying, Brian? Don’t you like my hotel room?” It might have been a lame try at humor, but at least he tried.
“Why don’t you come over and stay with us for a while? The babies aren’t due for a couple of months, and it’s the perfect time for you to visit,” Brian said.
“You have enough to handle with the girls and Jack’s crazy schedule with Rescue for Hire,” Brad argued half-heartedly. Now that the bug was put in his ear, the thought of getting away was sounding pretty good.
“There’s an open veterinarian position at the small animal clinic in Granite City. Maybe it’s time for you to start working again?”
Brad knew how hard it was for Brian to push an issue. There was a reason his partner, Jack, called him Sweets. It was becoming obvious to Brad that Brian was extremely worried about him.
“Let me think about it, Brian, and I’ll get back to you,” Brad answered.
“Please, Brad, don’t put me off. Come visit. Leave today,” Brian urged. “Um, Brad…”
In his mind, Brad could see Brian biting his lip and getting his courage up for what he was about to say.
“What?” he asked.
“Don’t listen to Mom. She has tried to run all of our lives long enough. Tyler and I managed to get away, and Stephanie has as good as run away. She only went back home for the memorial service because you’re our brother. I doubt she’ll ever go back there again. She said Mom was relentless, harping at her the whole time. Stephanie finally lost it and told Mom to butt out. She said she was going to date who she wanted to date, not who Mom thought she should.”
“Brian, I’ve got to go.” Talking about the memorial service and his mother made Brad need a drink desperately.
“Please, think about it. If I don’t hear back from you, I’ll call you in a few days,” Brian said.
“Okay, fine, I’ll think about it,” Brad answered.
After he hung up the phone, Brad sat there, ready to get up and find his newest bottle of whiskey when his phone rang again.
“Hey, bro,” Tyler said.
“Hey,” Brad answered. He had talked more this morning than the entire last year.
“Graham and I thought you might like a change of scenery. Why don’t you hop on a plane and come visit the Crazy Angle? Our veterinarian, Callum, could use some help caring for the horses. What do you think?”
Of everyone in the family Brad was closest to Tyler. They were both athletic and had stuck together during their mother’s insistence that they play every sport available. Now Tyler had a partner and lived on a gorgeous horse ranch in Texas while Brad had nothing.
“I think that you and Brian have decided to stage an intervention,” Brad replied. He wasn’t stupid, just a fool who’d let other people tell him what to do for far too long.
“Are you at a point where intervention is needed, Brad?” Tyler asked. “I can be there by the end of the day if you need me.”
“Truth?” he asked.
“Total truth.” Brad knew Tyler was now standing with his legs braced, shoulders and head back, preparing himself for Brad’s answer.
“I’m on the edge. I think I can stop drinking right now, but maybe by tomorrow or next week, I won’t be able to.” There, he had said it. And it was the truth.
“Shit. You’ve got to get out of that hotel. Come to Texas. There are so many things to see and do here. People tend to come to the ranch to heal. I did.”
“Brian called, too, and asked me to stay with him for a while,” Brad admitted.
“One or the other, but decide quick and do it. You’ve spent a year wallowing in your misery. That’s long enough. It’s time to get off your ass,” Tyler said.
Only Tyler could say that and get away with it. Brad was six-one and one hundred ninety pounds of solid muscle. At least he used to be before tragedy and drinking became his life. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in months, but he had noticed the waistband of his pants was loose.
“Let me think about it,” he said.
“If I don’t hear from you by tomorrow morning, I’ll call you. If I don’t like how you sound, I’m on the next plane to haul your ass here.” Tyler sounded confident, assertive, and comfor
table in his skin. Brad was happy for him. Tyler had been through a lot before and after his baseball career ended.
“Okay, I’ll let you know,” he conceded.
Brad ended the call. For the first time in months, his first thought wasn’t finding a whiskey bottle. A small hope of an actual future was taking shape in his head. But an hour later the liquor’s siren call claimed him into the depths of the bottle.
Waking up with a hangover this morning, Brad stumbled to the shower to clear his head and then forced himself to eat some breakfast. He even washed all of the dishes that had been accumulating over the last two weeks. Now sitting in the big faded brown chair, that would have been a nice addition to anyone’s family room ten years ago, Brad had to decide whether to fly to Texas or drive to Granite County. His other choice was to dive into those three tempting bottles of whiskey he’d lined up on the table.
The ringing of his phone brought his attention away from the whiskey bottles and the conversations of yesterday. His old phone, which had been set to play different sounds for different people, had been destroyed in the fire after the crash. Now instead of the beginning deep base notes of a doom and gloom song, the screen of the phone read, “Mother.”
Knowing that if he didn’t answer it, she would keep calling and then show up at his door, Brad sighed and reluctantly picked up the phone.
“Hello,” he said.
“Brad, I have great news for you.”
The excitement in Janice Hayward’s voice scared the living daylights out of Brad. It meant that she had made some decisions, and they were never the decisions that Brad would have made.