Free BlackWind by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Page A

Bronnie.”
    * * * *
    Before she could say anything else, Bronnie watched the man she loved pedal away. He didn't turn to wave or acknowledge her presence in any way. With her heart aching, she headed for the gym.
    Bobby was leaning against the brick wall, his arms crossed over his wide chest. At his cousin's approach, he cocked his head to one side. “Living dangerously, eh, Bronwyn?”
    “You tell Daddy you saw me talking to Sean and I'll tell Uncle Mike about the girl over in Colquitt.”
    His face paled. “You won't if you know what's good for you.”
    She smiled nastily. “Stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours.” She waited for him to say something else, and when he didn't, she headed for her car.
    * * * *
    Bobby pushed away from the building. His head throbbed with anger, but it wasn't directed at the little cousin for whom he had a vast amount of affection. His rage was aimed at Sean Cullen. To Bobby's way of thinking, few men would ever be worthy of Bronnie's hand and Cullen was on the lowest rung of the ladder.
    With a brutal look of vengeance, Bobby hunched his shoulders and headed across the parking lot to football practice. But before taking his anger out on the tackling dummies, he had a few words to discuss with a couple of his teammates.
    * * * *
    It was dusk before Sean finished vacuuming the last car on Griffin's lot. He was sweaty and tired and his nose ached miserably. Zeke had left for the day and Andy was making sure the cars were locked. When Andy came out back to lock the storage shed, he found Sean inside, putting away the shop vac.
    “You need a ride home, son?” Andy inquired. “You can stick your bike in my trunk.”
    “No, thank you, sir,” Sean replied as he left the shed.
    Andy followed Sean outside and turned to padlock the shed. “I live only a couple of blocks from your house. It ain't no bother.”
    “I appreciate the offer, but I kinda like the solitude.”
    Andy looked at him. “Seems to me you have more solitude than you need, son.” He smiled sadly. “Or that's good for you.”
    Sean ducked his head. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged.
    “Well, any time you wanna talk or such, you just let me know,” Andy said gruffly. “Okay?”
    Sean nodded. “Yes, sir.”
    Andy patted him on the back. “See you tomorrow.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    As Andy backed out of the car lot, the sweep of his headlights played over the tree where Sean had padlocked his bike, then left it in darkness. Sean wished there were security lights illuminating that section of the lot. As it was, he had to strain to see the barrel lock. Just as the last pin disengaged, he heard a rattling in the bushes that bordered Griffin's property and the empty lot behind it.
    Straightening up from his crouched position, Sean looked into the shadows. He stood still, listening, but there was no further sound. Still, the hair on the back of his neck stirred, and there was a tight sensation in the pit of his stomach, the taste of lead filling his mouth.
    All his life Sean had felt and heard things he could not explain. Able to “read” other people's minds had at first frightened, then confused, then later irritated him. Most of the time he pushed aside the thoughts and ignored them. With Bronwyn, he often gave in to listening to her inner thoughts, but always hated himself for doing it. On rare occasions, the ability had served Sean well when his father had made up his mind to take his frustrations out on him. At times like that, Sean was quick to put distance between himself and Tymothy Cullen. Rarer still were the times when Sean sensed danger heading his way from an unknown source.
    Just as he sensed it now.
    Never taking his eyes off the bushes at the edge of Griffin's property, Sean backed his bike away from the tree. He never saw the person behind him, but he heard the swoosh of air a second before something hard connected painfully with his spine. He fell sideways, over his