Unprotected Hearts

by Rachel Kane

  “Don’t talk to me about what you have a right to know! I was coerced into protecting you. Now that’s over. Harlan can come get you. I’ll drop you off in town. Hell, I’ll even wait until he gets here. But I’m not doing this anymore, Trent.”

  “Fine, I’m not either.”

  Jace’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “If I’m not getting protected, then why should I testify? I didn’t agree to this either, you know? I never said I wanted my life to be in danger.”

  Jace stood there staring at Trent. Wasn't this just what he wanted, to give up the responsibility of watching out for someone else? If Trent refused to testify, then all this would be over.

  So why did it feel so awful to hear him say that?

  13

  “Look,” said Trent, “there are things you don't know about me. Things that make it very hard for me to do all this.”

  He let his legs dangle from the truck bumper. His hands were together in his lap. It occurred to him that he must look very contrite, like a little boy confessing to some minor crime. He couldn't look at Jace.

  He'd heard the pain in Jace’s voice. It wasn't like Trent was some expert in human nature, but he knew guilt and pain when he heard them. Really, Jace was right, and the specifics behind that pain were none of Trent’s business. But Trent had a well-honed flight or fight instinct, and it was flashing a red danger signal right now. Everything inside him was saying run.

  Never mind that there was nowhere to go, that he had no apartment right now, that Harlan would have no incentive to help him find a place if he didn't testify. Never mind that his friend Billy probably hated him now, through no fault of his own. All that mattered was that he get away from this. All of it. Away from depositions and lawyers and cabins. Away from Jace.

  He couldn't look at Jace right now. The guilt was too great. He was about to disappoint everyone, as he had so many times in his life.

  Okay, but why should I care what Jace thinks? Seriously. Who was Jace? Just a guy who had given him hell for two days. There was no connection between them, outside of one brief night together. Why should he care what Jace thought about him?

  It wasn't until he sat there a moment listening to the silence between them that he realized how defensive he was being, with no real provocation. Jace hadn't said a word to him.

  Which, now that he thought about it, was a little strange. He glanced up. Jace was leaning against the side of the truck, his big arms resting against the bed. He was staring off into the distance, like Trent and his problems were the last thing on his mind.

  When Jace did speak, his words were very slow and careful. “Nobody's going to force you to testify. Harlan might blow a gasket, and Dodi will give you her concerned look, but it's not like either of them has a gun to your head.”

  “Um…”

  “Sorry, bad choice of words. What I mean is, it’s your right to get out of the situation if it’s too dangerous. I don't think anyone should judge you too harshly for that.”

  Trent sighed. “Nobody else might, but I will.”

  Jace raised an eyebrow.

  “Never mind,” said Trent. “I know you're not a fan of talking about feelings.”

  “I don't want to talk about my feelings,” Jace said. “You talk about whatever you want.”

  Was that a hint of a smile? Trent laughed, even though it sounded so hollow.

  “I’m not sure how I can face the students at my school if I don't testify,” he said. “Grumman was poisoning them. It’s lucky his plan was uncovered quickly; it could have been so much worse. But a few of those kids got really sick. Don’t I owe them my testimony?”

  “Okay,” said Jace, “but let me play the little devil on your shoulder for a second: Who says you have a moral responsibility to bring this man to justice? The law couldn't do it. What makes you think you can? One person’s testimony against his army of lawyers? I mean, if I were him I wouldn't even bother with surveillance, I'd just crush you on the stand. I respect my brother a lot—don't laugh, I don't like him, but I do think he's a good lawyer—but if the government couldn't bring this guy down, I don't see what you could do to him.”

  Trent puzzled over that a moment then asked, “Then why is he after me?”

  Jace shrugged. “Maybe his heavies are cheaper than his lawyers? Hell if I know.”

  “But I can't live like this. When I saw that we'd been watched—after the things we did last night—”

  Jace stiffened.

  “Okay, fine, I won't talk about that. But I'm scared. I have been trying to structure my life so that I'm not scared all the time. This isn't good for me. For my health.”

  “Clearly if Grumman gets to you it won't be good for your health—”

  “I actually mean it a little more concretely than that.” God, he hated talking about this. He turned his head so Jace couldn't see him. “I'm in treatment for panic disorder. Pills, therapy. Honestly some days I can't even make it to work, I'm so scared. It feels like I might die of a heart attack.”

  “But you’re my age. And you’re pretty healthy.”

  These conversations always humiliated Trent. It was so hard to explain to someone how an illness could have this effect on you, when others couldn’t see its symptoms, couldn’t hear it speaking the language of illness and certain death.

  “I am healthy, physically,” he said. “I've been to the emergency room, I've had all the tests. Objectively I know I'm not going to have a heart attack. But it doesn't stop my chest from hurting. It doesn't stop me from hyperventilating. And it doesn't stop me from having this conviction that I'm about to drop dead. It's so hard to describe. It has affected so much in my life.”

  “It's weird,” said Jace. “I'm used to thinking of fear as either an obstacle or a tool. It arrives, you figure out how to deal with it, and then it's over.”

  The kindness in Jace’s voice was so unexpected that Trent suddenly wanted to cry. He shook his head. “It's never over. Not for me. If there's one thing you need to know about me, it's that my fear is never done.”

  “You're not going to make me do this, are you?”

  Trent glanced at him. “Do what?”

  Jace sighed. “Am I supposed to convince you to be brave and testify?”

  “God no. Forget about it. I'll call Dodi and tell her it's over.” He picked up his phone.

  Jace looked hesitant, watching Trent dial, but Trent ignored that. When the phone picked up he said, “Dodi, we have to talk. I can't do this. I can't testify.”

  “Oh, for god’s sake,” she said. “He’s right there, isn’t he? Put me on speaker.”

  “But I—”

  “Now, Trent.”

  He set the phone on the side of the truck bed, between him and Jace. “All right,” he said.

  “Jace? Jace, can you hear me?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sis.”

  “What the living hell do you think you’re doing out there? First you tell Harlan you can’t guard Trent, and now Trent’s saying he can’t testify? Why are you trying to destroy the months of work I put into this case?”

  “I didn’t tell him not to testify,” said Jace.

  “It’s true,” said Trent. “Look, Dodi, I appreciate everything—”

  “Don’t tell me you appreciate everything. Don’t tell me you can look those little kids in the eye again, knowing the harm that could have come to them, if you don’t testify.”

  Trent felt his insides twist. “I know,” he said. “But Dodi, Grumman had somebody right here. He found me.”

  “I know. Harlan already has his guys looking into it. You should have been safe there.”

  “But I can’t be safe anywhere,” he said quietly. He leaned against the tailgate of the truck.

  He started to say something else, when they heard a rumbling on the road, coming from town. Trent looked up, and saw a black SUV coming their way. There was something about it that set off his alarms. Jace was just as startled by it. Maybe it was the fact that it
was so shiny and new. So clean. Or the way the windows were tinted so you couldn’t get a good look at the driver.

  “Get in the truck,” said Jace.

  He didn’t ask questions, just grabbed the phone and got in.

  “What’s going on?” said Dodi, who sounded extremely far away.

  “Maybe nothing,” said Jace. He started the truck.

  The SUV pulled beside them, and slowed to a halt. They were facing in opposite directions; Jace’s truck pointing towards town, the SUV pointing towards the road back to the cabin.

  Trent expected the dark window to roll down. Expected instructions to be barked at them. Somehow the silence was worse.

  “Jace?” called Dodi from the phone. “Tell me what’s going on. Are you okay?”

  With a spray of gravel from the spinning wheels, Jace pulled the truck back up onto the road, leaving the SUV behind. Trent turned around. There were no bumper stickers on it, no signs that it was owned by some happy suburban tourists who had chosen to drive a big tank to the mountains. Then the reverse lights came on, and Trent watched in horror as the SUV did a three-point turn, until it was facing the truck again. “Jace…I think they’re coming.”

  “I see them.”

  “Can we outrun them?”

  Jace peered through the windshield, as though thinking about it, before shaking his head. “Not a chance. Not on these roads. Not in this truck.” He kept up a steady speed towards town.

  “Jace!” shouted Dodi from the phone.

  “We’re being followed,” said Jace to her.

  “How did they find you?” she asked. Trent had never heard her so nervous.

  “No way for me to find that out,” said Jace. He kept glancing at the rearview mirror. “But now you see why Trent can’t testify. I don’t know what they’re planning right now. Maybe it’s just to make sure we know they’re around. Maybe it’s something worse. But as long as that deposition is hanging over his head, he isn’t safe, Dodi.”

  A new voice came on the phone. “Jace, Trent, sit tight.” It was Harlan.

  “I don’t think there’s much chance of that,” said Trent.

  “Dodi let me know you’re being followed. I’m calling Grumman’s lawyers right now.”

  “To let them know I can’t go up against Grumman?” asked Trent.

  “What? Hell no. To let them know that I know they’re breaking the law right now. They can either pull their guys off you, or talk to the judge.”

  The SUV was so much closer to them now. It seemed impossible it wasn’t hitting them. Jace picked up the truck’s speed, and the SUV matched it. They were getting closer to town.

  “You better work your magic fast,” said Jace. “These guys mean business, and I’ve got limited options here. Call me as soon as you hear something.”

  Trent clicked off the call. “What if we just parked and got out?”

  “Here?”

  “No. In town. You saw all the tourists. Surely Grumman’s men wouldn’t do anything to us in broad daylight.”

  Jace shook his head. Then nodded. “That might be our best bet. I don’t like it, though. I wish I knew what they wanted. Just to intimidate you? Or worse?”

  Trent felt a lump in his throat from fear. “Don’t say that. I’m sure they just want to scare me.”

  “It’s your decision. Should we keep going and try to lose them on the back roads—which I’m just not sure we can do—or get out into the crowds and see if that saves us?”

  “You’re the bodyguard,” Trent said. “Tell me what to do!”

  Jace shook his head. “It’s your body I’m guarding.”

  Trent felt like he was freezing. His fingers felt like they had been plunged into ice, pins and needles poking at them. His lips tingled. And yet this was a different kind of fear than the helpless panic he so often felt. His mind felt sharp, and there was an anger inside him, as though his body were trying to choose fight or flight…but was leaning towards fight.

  “Okay,” he said. His breaths were quick and shallow. “Let’s get to town.”

  14

  Whenever Jace would tell someone what he did for a living, their eyes would light up, and inevitably he would have to tell them that being a bodyguard wasn’t like something out of the movies. He had to go to the gym a lot, for example, because so much of the job itself was sedentary, sitting around waiting for something threatening to happen. Mostly nothing threatening ever happened, but you had to be ready. He’d watched a lot of guys drop out of the business, getting too big, too slow for the job, and going on to become private investigators, jobs like that, lots of sitting in the car and taking pictures of cheating husbands.

  But once things started to happen, you had to be ready. Every nerve was awake and firing in his body. He glanced at the road, then back at the mirror. The SUV wasn’t backing off. The ruts in the roads made it hard to go more than 20 miles an hour. Slowest car chase ever. Finally he got onto the asphalt road and was able to pick up speed a little.

  He hoped Trent was right about going into town. He didn’t like the idea. Too much exposure. Too little awareness of who exactly their enemies were. But there was no alternative.

  Trent was wound up tight. His hand was on the armrest of the truck door, fingers squeezing the vinyl. Knuckles white. He was biting his lower lip.

  Jace had the most absurd, ill-timed urge to kiss Trent right then. Something about the fullness of that plump lower lip, pressed by Trent’s straight white teeth. He knew it was just the tension building up inside him, wanting some kind of release. He had to keep his mind on the real world, though. What had happened between them back at the cabin was over. A distant memory, never to be repeated.

  Now he had to slow down again, as tourist families began dotting the area, taking pictures, parking at awkward spots at the side of the road. The SUV crept behind the truck, keeping pace.

  Much of the parking in town was already taken, and the sidewalks were full of sleepy families shuffling to restaurants for Sunday breakfast. Jace felt a moment of frantic worry, an instinct to floor the accelerator and get the hell out of here. But then he saw a spot near the town fountain, and pulled in there.

  The SUV crept towards them, then passed and continued down the road.

  Trent let out a long breath, seeing them leave. His fingers unclenched from the armrest. “Thank god,” he said.

  “Don't assume we're safe yet,” Jace said. “Let’s get lost in this crowd.”

  A rumble from behind them made him glance up at the rearview mirror.

  “Oh no,” said Trent.

  The SUV was behind them again. It had circled the block and returned. It pulled to a stop, blocking them in.

  “We're trapped!” said Trent.

  “No,” said Jace. “The truck is blocked, that's all. Let's get out.”

  “But—”

  Jace was already getting out of the truck. He spared a split-second for looking at the SUV. He felt the rage inside him. Whoever these people were, they'd come to intimidate him and Trent, and his fists and twitching muscles cried out for a fight.

  But his mind said they needed to keep moving, get into a big group. Only then could they be safe from Grumman’s men.

  His heart broke a little, seeing Trent emerge from the truck. He looked so lost. His gaze flicked back and forth between Jace and the SUV. But he rushed over to Jace’s side.

  By the time the SUV’s doors began to open, Jace and Trent were already on the other side of the fountain. The fountain was empty now, always drained just before the first frost was expected. There was a long line to get into the Sunrise diner, and Jace led Trent among these people. Only now did he dare to give a long look back.

  Two men had gotten out of the SUV. They looked chillingly anonymous amongst the tourists. They wore winter jackets and hats that looked like everyone else's. The taller, thinner man was smoking, while the more thickly built one was busying himself with a phone.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Trent,
his voice tight.

  Jace said, “You're sure you're not going to testify?”

  “I don't know,” Trent said. “Will it make them go away if I say I won't?”

  As the two men stepped onto the sidewalk, Jace got in front of Trent. “Let me do the talking,” Jace whispered.

  But when the smoking man reached them he said, “Jace Marlowe. You packing? No? Not planning to do anything unwise, are you?”

  “I think we need to talk,” Jace said to him.

  “You and me? No. Nothing to say to you. You're irrelevant to the process.”

  “You're not talking to Trent by himself.”

  “Maybe talking’s not what we got in mind,” said the shorter man.

  Jace felt his pulse quicken. It seemed to pound inside his throat. It took a conscious effort to slow his breathing and loosen his fists. He felt too exposed out here to have any maneuvering room. Too much chance of innocents getting hurt.

  “Cut the shit,” Jace said. “If you had any real plans you would've gotten us last night.”

  Smoking man laughed. “What, and interrupted the show?”

  Jace couldn't keep his cheeks from growing red, but hopefully his beard covered the blush. He wanted to punch this guy in the face. Wanted it more than anything in the world. It was only the thought of them pulling a gun on Trent that prevented him.

  “Look out, Harold,” said the short guy. “You’re about to get a face full of knuckles.”

  A sickly smile crept across smoking guy’s face. “He knows better than to try. Don’t you, Mr. Marlowe? Now look. Let’s be nice and peaceful here. All these happy families, they don’t want to see any trouble. They came up here for pretty leaves. So where can we go for a little privacy? Won’t take but a couple of minutes, and this will all be over with.”

  “Whatever you’ve come to do, you can do it right here, in the open, with witnesses,” said Jace. He felt Trent take a step closer.