Salvation (The Protectors, Book 2) (9 page)

I grabbed the first bottle of whiskey I found and snatched one of several corkscrews from a drawer. I didn’t bother going back upstairs for a glass – I just took several swallows, one right after the other, and let the burn roll through me. I had no doubt the alcohol had cost Seth’s father a fortune, but I barely noticed the taste. But as much as I would have liked to get drunk in the hopes of obliterating the sight of Seth struggling beneath the weight of the other man, I knew he might need me to be at a hundred percent mentally, so I closed the bottle and put it away before going back upstairs.

In the six years since Michael “Hawke” Hawkins had helped me get justice for Trace, I’d taken more lives than I’d saved in all of my years of practicing medicine. No, they hadn’t all died by my hand directly, but I’d given the order on every single one. But none of those deaths, no matter how vile the criminal, had ever brought me pleasure. Only watching every single one of Trace’s killers die had ever done that for me. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that taking Barry’s life would have come a close second. That fact should have bothered me more than it did, but the only part that I was struggling with was the fact that Seth had seen the real me in that study.

For all the times I’d worried that Seth’s hero worship of me would turn to something more when he’d been younger, I hadn’t expected to now feel the loss of that last link between us so keenly. Maybe because I didn’t want Seth to have to lose yet another thing from his past. More selfishly though, I wasn’t sure what would happen when I lost that last link to myself.

Once I was back upstairs, I paced the kitchen restlessly as I waited for Seth to return. When I checked the time on my phone, I realized a mere fifteen minutes had passed since Seth had left so I kept myself busy by going up to my room and changing out of my pants and into a pair of jeans. I left my dress shirt on but got rid of the jacket and the shoulder holster. I tucked one of my Glocks into the back of my jeans and then went back downstairs. I glanced out the back door again but still saw no sign of Seth, so I busied myself with changing the security code on the front door. I’d have to do the security gate at the end of the driveway at some point too but since Seth’s house had nothing protecting the perimeter from intruders, the gate wasn’t much of a deterrent.

By the time I was done, Seth had been gone for less than a half an hour, but I was too restless to give him any more time or space so I went out the kitchen door and started walking towards the beach. But I stopped when I saw Bullet lying next to one of the lounge chairs on the far side of the pool. The chair was turned away from the pool and facing the dark blue waters of the Sound and the Olympic mountains beyond.

I didn’t bother grabbing a chair as I moved to Seth’s side and I was pleased that even though he didn’t look up at my approach, he moved his legs out of the way when I sat down on the end of the lounger.

“I didn’t see it,” he whispered.

“What?”

“That thing that made him dangerous,” he said. “I knew something was off the last few months but I thought I was overreacting. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings if I was wrong. He…he helped me.”

“He took advantage of you,” I corrected.

Seth shook his head. “Why did you come back, Ronan?”

“I didn’t leave, Seth,” I said. “I ran some errands today,” I hedged, not wanting to admit I’d been following him. “I left my stuff in the guest room.”

A raw, ugly chuckle found its way out of Seth’s throat. I could tell he was close to losing it.

“You go when I need you to stay and you stay when I tell you to go.” Seth shifted and swung his legs over the side of the lounger but didn’t get up. “You won’t let me touch you but you won’t stop touching me. You want answers but you won’t give them.”

Seth rose as he said, “I can’t figure out what’s more fucked up – wishing you’d stop seeing me as Trace’s little brother or being terrified that you already have.”

I let Seth go because how could I tell him that the only thing fucked up about this whole thing was me?

Seth

After leaving Ronan on the patio, I’d hidden myself away in my room like a child. Between Barry’s assault and Ronan’s reappearance, I was mentally and physically drained. I hadn’t bothered telling Ronan to leave again because it was clear to me now that Ronan was going to do whatever Ronan wanted to do. Just like I wasn’t strong enough to fend off Barry, I wasn’t strong enough to force Ronan out of my life.

For what was likely the hundredth time since I’d crawled between the cool, crisp sheets of my bed, I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost two in the morning but I had yet to find any momentary peace through sleep. My only consolation was that tomorrow was Saturday so I didn’t have to deal with the stress of having to endure the endless hordes of people and cars as I made my way to the office. Not that I really had to deal with those things on a daily basis – they just seemed that way to me after years of self-imposed isolation.

I hadn’t really even realized how bad my fear of the outside world had gotten until after my grandmother died and I’d decided to enroll in college to pursue a degree in business so I would be well equipped to take over my father’s company. After I’d gotten out of the hospital following the home invasion, it hadn’t made much sense to return to my high school since there were only a few months left in the school year. So I’d gotten home schooled instead and ended up sticking with it when I realized the added benefits.

The ability to set the pace at which I learned ended up being the perfect distraction, especially after I learned of Trace’s death. Every hour I wasn’t caring for my grandmother or sleeping, I spent studying. I’d ended up getting my GED early and began taking college courses online just to challenge myself. But it wasn’t until I’d lost the connection with Ronan that my loneliness had started to consume me. Attending college had been the logical choice and I’d been excited about the prospect of finally interacting with kids my own age. I’d even envisioned meeting someone who might finally take away some of the sting of losing Ronan.

My first day had been utter hell. The noise, the crowds…I hadn’t been prepared for any of it. And it wasn’t until I’d managed to make my way back to the Whidbey Island house that night that I’d realized how little I’d left the house in the years since I’d lost my parents. My grandmother had set up regular grocery deliveries shortly after her arrival and I’d never thought to change them even after she died. I bought all the things I needed like clothes and books online. The only time I ventured out was for doctor appointments and even those had been few and far between. But I’d attributed the anxiety I’d experienced to my overall fear of doctors after my lengthy hospital stay and not the fact that I had to leave the safety of the house to go to the doctor’s office.

I tried going back to school the next day, but I’d only made it as far as the parking lot and then I’d had the chauffeur I’d hired to shuttle me back and forth take me back home. By day three, I’d been convinced it was all in my head and I just needed to work through the newness of it all. But all it had taken was for a big guy bumping into me as he passed me in the hallway of the building where my first class was held, and I’d had a full-blown panic attack. I’d managed to avoid a trip to the hospital after I told the paramedics that had been called that I was declining treatment and that was it. I didn’t venture out of the house again for almost three years.

Another glance at the clock showed that less than five minutes had passed and I debated whether or not I should head down to the kitchen to search out some food since I’d skipped dinner so I wouldn’t have to deal with Ronan. I almost laughed because I’d actually managed to make myself even more of a prisoner in my own house than I’d already been.

I decided against the snack run and flipped myself over so that I could stare out the glass doors that led out to my balcony. But within a couple seconds, I felt Bullet pressing his nose against my back. I turned over and patted the bed in invitation, but instead of jumping up, Bullet sat down and dropped his head on the edge of the bed. I let my fingers trail over the soft fur on his head but then he jerked away, his ears snapping up as something caught his attention. A shot of terror went through me as I was instantly transported to the night I’d been woken up by a stranger’s gloved hand pressing down on my mouth, but I managed to recover when Bullet merely whined and then looked back at me expectantly. If there’d been any danger, Bullet would have taken off towards it.

As Bullet cocked his head, I sat up and listened for whatever the dog was hearing. And then I heard it. Moaning.

Coming next door from Ronan’s room.

I waited quietly to see if the moaning would stop but it grew louder and I finally swung my legs over the bed and left the room. Ronan’s door was slightly open so I could hear that in addition to moaning, he was talking.

“Ronan,” I called as I pushed the door open.

Bullet brushed past me and trotted up to Ronan’s bed.

“Trace,” Ronan whispered. “Please stay with me, Trace.”

I swallowed hard at the sound of my brother’s name, but Ronan’s broken voice kept me moving forward. I carefully turned on the light next to Ronan’s bed, but didn’t touch him despite wanting to. I’d learned my lesson long ago when I’d tried waking Trace from a nightmare when he’d been home between deployments. I’d been lucky that all he’d done was punch me in the chest but my parents had had to take me to the hospital to make sure he hadn’t broken anything. Trace had been wracked with guilt and had warned me over and over again not to touch a soldier while he was having a nightmare, since the reaction could be lethal.

Ronan’s brow was dotted with sweat and the blanket was bunched around the lower part of his body. His fists were clenched and I could see that his face was drawn up in agony. But what really had my attention were the dozens of jagged scars that covered his chest. I knew instantly what they were because they looked like mine. But they weren’t like the penetrating stab wounds along my chest and side. No, they were shallower, longer – designed to inflict pain, not death.

The knowledge that Ronan had been tortured in the same way I’d been distracted me and it was actually Bullet who woke Ronan up by putting his paws on the bed and licking Ronan’s face. Fortunately, Ronan didn’t strike out at the dog but he did jerk upright. His panicked eyes settled on me and then slowly cleared as he looked around the room.

“You were having a nightmare,” I managed to say, though my eyes were still on his chest.

“Sorry,” he muttered before dropping his legs over the side of the bed and resting his head in his hands, the blanket draped over his lower body.

“Ronan, your chest-”

“Go back to bed, Seth.”

I knew it was the wrong thing to do before I did it but some sick, twisted part of me ignored the mental warning and I reached out to run my fingers over one of the scars. Ronan grabbed me long before my skin connected with his and his eyes lifted to meet mine, but I couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. Not that it mattered because the iron-hard grip he had on me was answer enough. And at that point, I knew I was done. I had nothing left to give this man. He’d broken me.

I tugged my hand free and he released it instantly.

My chest hurt as I took a step back. If I hadn’t known better, it had been me who’d woken him up and he’d struck out at me just like Trace had years earlier. I was glad that I didn’t feel any tears tugging at my eyes, though I wasn’t sure why since the pain I was feeling was a thousand times worse than the agony I’d felt as the blade had cut through me over and over again that terrible night so long ago.

I turned to go but sucked in a breath when I once again felt Ronan’s fingers close around my wrist.

“I lied.” Ronan’s whisper was barely even that, but I didn’t dare turn back in case I broke whatever spell had caused him to stop me from leaving.

“About what?” I managed to ask, my voice sounding loud compared to his.

“You asked if Trace asked me to keep an eye on you…”

“You said he did,” I said as I carefully turned back to face him. His head was hanging but he still had a hold of my wrist.

“He did.  But I could have done that from anywhere. I could have paid someone to do it. That isn’t why I keep coming back here…why I keep watching you from the woods…”

The admission was so much and still not enough, but I didn’t know what to say so I remained silent.

“God forgive me, but I stopped seeing you as Trace’s brother a long time ago,” he said hoarsely. His eyes finally lifted and where they were expressionless before, they were filled with turmoil now. My insides knotted up when I felt his finger brushing back and forth over the inside of my wrist.

“Seth,” Ronan whispered. I realized my eyes had dropped to the spot where our bodies were joined and I forced my eyes back up. “I’m not that man anymore.”

I knew which man he was talking about. The one I’d only seen through a child’s eyes. The one who’d never really existed – at least, not on his own. I’d seen only parts of Ronan, but it wasn’t something I’d understood as a naïve boy of thirteen. I’d never really known the whole man.

Ronan finally released my hand and I felt the loss immediately. And as I stood there, I knew we were both at a crossroads. Our relationship would change tonight one way or another. But looking at Ronan, his head once again hung and his hands resting on the edge of the bed, I knew I would have to be the one to make the next move.