When Roses Collide

Chapter One

And then came the light...

"Hot today." Brady's comment was met with creaks of saddle leather and silence. "Hot yesterday." The drone of bugs and his horse's long drawn out emission of gas was the only response to reach his ears. "Probably be hot again tomorrow." Brady pulled down his worn out straw Stetson further down and slid a glance over at his boss riding beside him.

Travis didn't show any sign of acknowledging his attempts at a conversation in either his stony features or his giant frame sitting astride his mount. But then again, Travis wasn't known for his conversational skills and definitely lacked the ability and the desire to participate in idle chit-chat.

Brady chuckled to himself. Hell, his boss was considered to be an out and out asshole to most people in these parts. Truth be known, he thought Travis liked people thinking the very worst of him and went out of his way to be intimidating and unaccommodating. The locals gave him wide berth and those that didn't, usually quickly regret it. Yes sir, Travis possessed all the cuddly softness of sandpaper and the temperament of a rabid pit bull, that's for sure. Only those closest to him knew there was more to him than the façade he presented to the average Joe.

Brady himself owed the man more than he could ever repay. He reset his ass more comfortably in his saddle and looked around at the beautiful landscape they'd been riding through for the last half hour looking for fence damage. Yup, he certainly came a long way from the street rat he used to be before Travis literally picked him up by the scruff of his neck and brought him here to the Dusty Rose, better known as the DR.

Like most boys his age, Brady considered himself a major badass at the tender age of 16 and took it upon himself to prove it in every stupid way imaginable. Kicked out of the house before he grew pubic hair by his alcoholic sorry excuse for a father, Brady took up a life of petty crime, booze and vandalism in hopes of winning favor with the local street gangs. He chuckled again at the thought. Yeah, major badass alright, soaking wet he might have weighed 100 pounds back then. Skinny ass with a bad attitude was about all he managed to pull off.

One night, boozed up pretty good, he took a dare from one of the big boys of the gang he aspired to join. A wet dream come true to even have them talking to him. They challenged him to break into a vehicle parked behind one of the bar joints in town and go for a little joy ride. If he succeeded, he would be one step closer to obtaining his "badass" status and become a member of their family of miscreants. He had so badly wanted that. He wanted to feel as if he belonged, rather than feeling like a piece of chewed gum stuck to somebody's shoe. Brady chuckled again. Little did he know then, he was about to meet his future employer and have his life changed forever.

After scoping out the possibilities, he set his sights on a damn fine red dually pick-up. Why he picked that truck out of all the hot little sports numbers or souped up rice burners was beyond him, but for some reason the truck called out to him like a siren calls to a wayward sailor. Must have been the inner cowboy calling him, who knows. All he knew, was he was taking that damn truck.

He remembered the way he weaved his way through the parking lot and stumbled up to the driver's side door, but before he could even lay screwdriver to door lock, he felt his wore out sneakers lift a good foot off the ground and was turned to face the devil himself. The darkness prevented Brady from seeing any real facial features...or maybe it was the half of Wild Turkey he had swilled down earlier which kept his eyes from focusing...either way, he was positive he was looking at death personified. And Death was one big motherfucker!

Brady snickered as he remembered the pure terror that flowed through him, and yes, ended up flowing down his leg as well. Scared shitless took on a whole new meaning that night. He couldn't recall what was said. Hell, he couldn't remember most of that night except bits and pieces. All he knew was, eventually, he was lowered back to the pavement and he promptly vomited on the biggest pair of boots he had ever seen and blacked out. He woke up some hours later here at the DR, hosed off and offered a job by the same man he thought was going to end his short and rather pathetic existence.