Salvation (The Protectors, Book 2) (15 page)

Comparing the two men was wreaking havoc on my already worn out mind so I went to the table and dug my laptop out of the small leather bag Trace had given to me years earlier on my birthday – my first birthday with him and the first gift I’d gotten in a long time. Until I’d spent Christmas with Trace’s family…then the gifts had flowed like water. A then thirteen-year-old Seth had given me a beautiful ball point pen that he’d had engraved with my name. He’d been embarrassed by the low cost, low quality item as compared to the expensive watch Trace had given me but I’d been touched by the gesture. I’d asked Trace to return the watch since I rarely wore one. I still had the pen Seth had given me.

“Here you go,” Seth said as he came up to me and put a sticky note down on the table with the wireless password on it. “Um, I have a meeting at nine – it’ll take a couple of hours. Then I was going to go to lunch. Did you…did you want to come with me for that? For lunch, I mean?”

“Yeah, I would, if that’s okay.”

Seth hesitated and then nodded. “You should know that I don’t actually go to lunch-”

“Seth,” I interrupted. “I know where you go.”

“What?” Seth said in confusion.

I’d debated about telling Seth the truth about the extent of my surveillance of him but decided I’d have to risk his anger. He deserved much more than that for the olive branch he’d extended yesterday.

“Have you been following me?” he asked.

I nodded. He stepped back and I grabbed his wrist in case he was considering moving away from me. “Sit, please,” I said as I pushed the chair next to mine back from the table with my foot. He paused and then finally sat and I felt a wave of relief wash through my body.

“Seth, I can’t explain this feeling I have that something’s not right. I hope to God I’m wrong, I really do. But I can’t risk it if I’m not. And you were so angry with me for coming back into your life so suddenly…for knowing I’d been watching you all this time…” I shook my head. “I’m not sorry I did it but I am sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Seth swallowed hard a couple of times and then said, “I never saw you.”

“I put a tracking device on your car.”

Wariness crept into Seth’s gaze but then he nodded. “Is that all?”

Fuck.

“No. I also went to see your old attorney.”

I hadn’t realized I was still holding on to Seth until he actually pulled free of my hold. “Ronan-”

“I needed answers that I knew you wouldn’t give me. I also had someone look into Barry before he attacked you. I…I didn’t like the way he looked at you…touched you.”

Seth was quiet for a long time. “No more lies, okay, Ronan?” he finally said. “We can’t do this if you’re going to lie to me.”

I nodded in understanding. There were things I could never tell him, not even if it meant losing him but I could give him most of the truth.

“I know about the inheritance,” I admitted. “Your lawyer let it slip by accident.”

Seth began chewing on his upper lip nervously.

“Seth, I can’t get it all back to you right away but I’ve got a good chunk of it available – I just need to talk to my bank about moving it to your account.”

I was startled when Seth suddenly leaned forward and placed his hand over mine where it was resting on the table. His skin felt warm against mine and sparks shot up my arm. I waited for the tingling to change into something far less pleasant, but to my surprise, the electricity kept building and I wanted to moan as my cock reacted to the pleasurable sensation. But just as quickly as he’d touched me, Seth seemed to remember himself and he jerked his hand back. I was still struggling with my own reaction so I barely heard his whispered “sorry.”

Seth tucked his hand in his lap and said, “Trace told me he was going to propose to you. It was a couple days before he left to go back to Afghanistan. I’d been discharged from the hospital a few weeks earlier and my grandmother was in the process of moving down from Bellingham to come live with me.” Seth lifted his eyes from where he’d been studying his hands. “That money is yours Ronan. Just because Trace didn’t tell Mr. Brighton that himself doesn’t mean he didn’t want you to have the money…you know how he was about stuff like that.”

I did know. Trace was the kind of guy who’d felt like he was untouchable. Even the prospect of his own mortality hadn’t changed that.

“He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, Ronan. I’m so sorry that you didn’t get to have that but he would have wanted you to be taken care of.”

I managed a nod but inside I was struggling. And not just at Seth’s reminder of what I’d lost but at the realization of what I still had. Even with all that had been taken from him at the tender age of fourteen, Seth had been looking out for me…
he’d
been worried about
me
. And even after admitting I’d been trailing him and asking questions about him behind his back, Seth was still looking out for me by making sure I knew how much Trace had wanted to be with me.

I was reaching for Seth before I could think better of it but the sound of Seth’s office door opening stopped me. I barely remembered not to reach for my gun.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Seth. I didn’t know you were in a meeting,” the older man said as he put up a hand to straighten his already straight tie.

“It’s okay, Stan. Come on in,” Seth said as he stood. “I’m not sure you two ever met but I’m sure my dad mentioned him to you. This is Ronan Grisham, Trace’s fiancé.”

Hearing Seth call me that was strange but I was saved from having to examine the unexpected feelings that came with his words because Stan was striding across the room, his tall, thin body suddenly relaxing. He reached out his hand and shook mine fervently. “We were all so terribly saddened to hear about Trace,” he said solemnly. “My condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” I responded. Since the members of Trace’s family were the only ones who’d known about my relationship with Trace, it felt odd for a virtual stranger to be extending what I knew was a common courtesy.

“I understand you’re a surgeon,” Stan suddenly said. “Where are you practicing?”

“Stan,” Seth interrupted before I could even try to consider how to answer. “Was there something you needed?”

I stopped listening as Stan and Seth began speaking about some sales figures for their meeting and went back to the small table and got my computer going. The shitty, off-balance feeling was back and for once, I was actually looking forward to going through the notes Daisy and Mav had sent me about potential marks. It was a sad commentary of what my life had become that I’d rather immerse myself in the business of death rather than face the difficulties of trying to accept who I’d been.

“Sorry about that,” Seth said as he returned to the chair next to me a few minutes later.

“It’s no problem,” I muttered. I knew I was being an ungrateful asshole considering what Seth had said to me before Stan’s untimely arrival, but I’d come too close to saying something to Seth that would have done more harm than good. He wanted to be friends. I needed to remember that.

But Seth must have sensed something was off because he began shifting nervously as he waited for me to say something else – probably to finish the conversation we’d been having. He finally stood, his jaw tight and began moving away from me but I grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Thank you,” I managed to say, though I didn’t look up from my computer.

Seth didn’t say anything and he didn’t linger. But as I opened my hand to release his wrist, I felt his fingers stroke over my palm briefly just before he walked away.

Seth

I ended up letting Ronan drive to my old house on Mercer Island since I was still on edge from the rough morning I’d had. Somehow the information that I was meeting with our biggest competitor in New York to discuss a possible buyout had gotten out, and I’d spent the morning fielding phone calls from worried employees and one very angry union president. To make matters worse, Stan had gone home sick so I’d been on my own. I’d debated whether I should even take the time to make my daily run to the house that played a starring role in my darkest of nightmares, but I’d decided the sooner I could come to terms with the events that had unfolded there, the sooner I could be rid of one of the last links to one of the worst days of my life.

“You did really great this morning,” Ronan said and I glanced over at him. His eyes kept shifting to me as he drove. Ronan had been in my office when the news had broken but after the first couple of phone calls, I’d actually forgotten about him.

“Thanks,” I murmured. “I’m not sure they believed me,” I said.

“Your employees?”

I nodded. “So many of them worked for my dad…I could hear it in their voices, you know?”

“Hear what?”

“The disappointment…like I was letting them down.” I turned to look out the window. “Like I was letting
him
down.”

I felt Ronan’s hand close over mine where it was laying on the middle arm rest. “He’d be proud, Seth. The way you handled yourself…they’d all be proud.”

I felt tears stinging the backs of my eyes but I managed to keep them at bay. I’d always hoped that wherever my parents and Trace were, they’d approve of the life I was leading and the choices I’d made. But somehow hearing the confirmation from Ronan was more comforting than just hoping for it on my own.

I’d had an idyllic childhood and I’d been smart enough to know it. While my parents had been more than just “well off,” they hadn’t let our family’s upper class status and wealth go to Trace’s and my heads. We’d had chores just like any other kids our age and when Trace wanted his own car when he turned sixteen, he’d had to pay for it and the insurance himself. And that was after he’d had to produce a stellar report card. I hadn’t been old enough to worry about a car, but I’d spent nearly all the money I’d saved from chores and doing odd jobs for the neighbors on books.

Trace and I had been polar opposites from the get go but somehow that and our ten-year age difference didn’t affect the bond we’d shared. Trace was the classic high-energy extrovert who excelled at athletics and earned every popularity title known to man. I’d only been eight when he’d come out to our parents at the age of eighteen, so I hadn’t understood the struggle he’d been going through from the time he’d turned fourteen and figured out he was gay. And while he hadn’t been around much as I’d struggled with my own sexuality, I had no doubt that the risk he’d taken in telling our parents had paved the way for me, because my mother had actually hugged me when I mustered enough courage to tell my parents the truth one night over dinner when I was twelve. My father had given me a hearty slap on the back, said it was about time and asked me to pass the peas.

My brother had also been my protector from the time my parents brought me home from the hospital and told him he needed to look out for his little brother. Trace had taken their words to heart and had spent the next six months sleeping on the floor next to my crib so that he would be there if I needed him. And while we’d had our tussles as we’d grown older, I’d known Trace would always be there for me. But there was one love I couldn’t compete with and it wasn’t Ronan. Trace’s love for the military held no equal and I’d finally understood that when I’d gone with my parents to Trace’s graduation from basic training. I’d never seen my brother more alive and in his element and I’d been strangely envious because I’d feared I’d never be a part of something like that.

Like Trace, I’d excelled in school but unlike him, I’d struggled to find my place in the various social circles that ran rampant in the private school I’d attended. I’d ended up escaping into my books more often than not and could count on one hand how many friends I had managed to scrape together. But where Trace was always on the go, I’d relished staying home and spending time with both my parents. My mother had been a music teacher so I’d spent many hours learning various instruments, though it never became a true passion for me like it had been for her. My father had often worked long hours but weekends were our thing and he’d often taken me boating on all the different lakes the region had to offer. As I’d gotten older, I’d started asking him questions about his work and that had turned into dreams of one day standing side by side with him running the company. I’d even spent the summer before they’d died working at my father’s office. I hadn’t done much more than get coffee and perform basic administrative tasks like sorting the mail and filing, but it had given me a chance to see my father in action. I’d idolized him in every sense of the word.

And now I was him…or I was trying to be anyway. But as much as I’d hoped to feel that thing that Trace had felt when he’d joined the military, it hadn’t happened yet. My teachers and Stan said I had a head for business but I still felt like I was playing a role…like I was trying to fill shoes that maybe weren’t meant to be filled.

I glanced at Ronan whose hand was still covering mine. “How did you know you wanted to be a doctor?”

Ronan’s grip on me tightened before he released me and I instantly regretted the question. As much as I wanted us to be friends, I needed to remember that we weren’t those kinds of friends. We were friends with boundaries…a lot of boundaries, if the tight look on Ronan’s face was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” I mumbled before turning my attention back out the window.

“I didn’t know,” Ronan said quietly. I risked looking at him as he spoke. “Not at first. I enrolled in medical school for someone else.”

I knew next to nothing about Ronan’s past and I could tell from the hard set of his jaw that he likely would prefer it that way. But I wanted desperately to know more so I said, “Who?”

Ronan swallowed hard. “My father.”

I would have liked to explore that revelation more but I sensed it was a topic that was off limits. “But you fell in love with it?”

The tension eased from Ronan and he nodded. Finally, safer ground.

“Where did you go to school?”

“Stanford.”

We were back to the one word answers but I didn’t care. He was still talking. “Wow, I had no idea you were a geek,” I said with a smile.

Ronan glanced at me in surprise. “What?”

“Stanford…that’s like Ivy League shit, right?”

I felt my body go all warm when Ronan chuckled. “Actually, no.”

“Well, it should be.”

Ronan didn’t respond but I didn’t miss the small smile that graced his lips and actually stayed there. “So did you do anything bad while you were in school?”

“What do you mean?”

I shifted in my seat so I could see his reactions better. “Pranks, practical jokes, that sort of thing.”

Ronan didn’t say anything but I laughed when I saw his jaw tick. “You did!”

An even wider smile spread across his mouth and I wanted to lean in and kiss him. “Tell me.”

He glanced at me and then finally said, “One of my classmates and I rigged a cadaver to move. Scared the shit out of the guy who was about to cut into it.”

“No,” I whispered in horror. “What else?”

“Nothing. That one act of rebellion almost got me expelled so I walked the straight and narrow after that.”

“So what, you were a goody two-shoes?” I asked in surprise.

“Does anyone even say that anymore?” Ronan teased. I was so caught off guard by the jab and the grin on his face that I didn’t realize the car had stopped moving until he turned to face me. “We’re here,” he said gently and then motioned behind me. I turned and sure enough, we were sitting in the driveway of my old house. The anxiety was instantaneous and I was glad when Ronan covered my hand with his again.

The home where my parents had chosen to live during the week was a sedate colonial that looked like countless other homes in middle class neighborhoods, but it sat on a large lot that had a great view of the water and beautifully landscaped gardens that my mother had spent years getting just right. At nearly ten thousand square feet, the gothic Tudor style house on Whidbey Island dwarfed this house and no expense had been spared in designing it. But as much as I’d always liked our vacation home, it was the relatively small, four-bedroom house with the black shutters and simple window boxes that had always felt like home to me…until it hadn’t.

“Do you want to go?” Ronan asked.

Yes
.

I shook my head. “No. I just need a minute.”

Ronan fell silent but he didn’t release my hand which I was grateful for since I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to actually let him go at that moment. I wasn’t sure how long we sat there for but when I heard someone shouting from across the street, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“It’s just some guys working on the roof across the street,” Ronan said gently.

I nodded but I couldn’t stop the panic that started to overtake me.

“Seth, look at me,” Ronan ordered and then his hands were on my face. “Take a breath and hold it,” he ordered.

I did as he said but couldn’t manage to hold it. “Try again,” Ronan urged.

I swallowed hard and then sucked in a breath. It seemed like forever before Ronan told me to release it and then he was telling me to do it again. I did it at least a dozen times before Ronan told me to stop and I was surprised to find it easier to breathe again.

“How long have you been coming here?” Ronan asked.

“Not long,” I admitted. “I started going into the office about a month ago. The choice to come out here was an impulse…I hadn’t seen it since that night.”

“Have you gone inside?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t been able to get out of the car.”

Ronan nodded in understanding. “Are you hoping to move back here someday?”

“No,” I said adamantly. “Never.”

“Then why not just sell it?”

I’d asked myself that same question a thousand times. Even Barry, who I’d expected would have encouraged me to slay my demons before getting rid of the house, had said it would be a mistake to come back here.

“I…I need to let it go first, you know? If I don’t…”

“You’re afraid you’ll only remember it the way it was that night.”

I nodded. “So many good things happened in this house. But it’s hard to remember them.”

“There’s no rush, Seth. It’ll happen when you’re ready.”

I dropped my eyes. “It’s been six years, Ronan. I need it to be over.”

I could feel Ronan’s eyes on me for a long time and then he released my hand. But instead of starting up the car, he got out and walked around to my side and opened the door. He took my hand and linked our fingers together. “Then let’s do this.”