Protector: The Flawed Series Book Three

by Becca J. Campbell

  He was blind to the world, and he was outside. Why was he standing? And what was in his hand?

  When Ethan relaxed his fingers, something slipped from his grasp. A whoosh and then a clatter far below told him two things: he’d dropped his cane, and he was standing somewhere very high.

  A hunch told him he was on the fire escape outside his bedroom window.

  He hadn’t been asleep…couldn’t have been. He never sleepwalked. This had to be Nicodemus’s doing.

  Ethan ground his teeth and felt in front of him. His fingers found the cool rail of the fire escape, felt the flecking rust.

  Just then a sudden breeze, stronger than the first, blew against him, and brought a new realization. He was stark naked. The wind caressed every inch of his skin as if violating him. Ethan cowered back, away from the railing.

  Honks came from down below, and a cat call followed. He whipped away from the sound of a laugh echoing across the buildings beneath him. He grasped for the window sill and felt it halfway open.

  Ethan shook with rage and crawled inside. Nicodemus had used his power on him. What had he done, outside on that ledge? The goon could’ve killed him!

  Ethan drew the blackout curtains, activating his vision enough to scramble around and collect his clothes. As he pulled on his pants, he remembered his cane, now down on the street below. Cursing aloud, Ethan stormed out of his room. He’d have to retrieve it.

  When he passed the bathroom, he heard Nicodemus’s whoops of laughter. Ethan tried the handle—locked, of course. He banged a fist on the door. “You think you’re so clever! Just wait until I get hold of you.”

  Outside in the apartment’s carpeted hallway, Ethan pressed the elevator button. He rode down eight stories to the street level and strode outside. With daylight overhead, he could see nothing, but he’d trod this path many times and knew the steps well. Finding his cane might be a different matter.

  He was bent down in a squat, scrounging the sidewalk with his bare hands when someone ran into him, knocking him onto his knees.

  “Oh! I didn’t see you there.” He recognized the voice of a young woman from the apartment across from him.

  Ethan turned to face her, about to ask for assistance, when she suddenly snorted loud.

  “Oh, look! It’s the Conifer King!” The woman burst out laughing, and the sound followed her as she continued down the street.

  Ethan didn’t know what Nicodemus had made him do under the spell of his power, but he knew one thing.

  Nicodemus would pay for this.

  After so much planning and preparation, it was finally the week of the gala.

  Kelsey rapped lightly on the door of Regina’s office and eased it open when she heard talking on the other side. She pinched the quote of prices and waited as Regina ended her phone call.

  Regina put the back of her hand against her forehead and leaned into it. “Bad news.”

  “What?” Kelsey asked.

  “I have to take off for a bit. The neighbors found my mother-in-law wandering around in their backyard chasing after their cat. Her Alzheimer’s is getting worse by the day.”

  “She lives with you, right?”

  Regina nodded. “She’ll be fine, but it sounds like she’s a little freaked at the moment. I need to go stay with her until she’s past this episode. Sometimes it takes her a while to calm down. She thinks the neighbors’ tabby is her childhood pet. She keeps calling it Charlie and trying to bring it back to our place.”

  “Oh, no,” Kelsey said, stifling a grin despite the situation.

  “I’d think it was funny if it hadn’t been happening once a week for the past three months.”

  “Wait,” Kelsey said. “What about the press release?”

  “You’re going to have to do it,” Regina said. “I have to get back to her.”

  A nervous prickle heated Kelsey’s neck. “I can’t go on television—”

  Regina stood and grabbed her purse, waving a hand toward Kelsey. “Don’t worry. Your makeup’s flawless.”

  “That’s not it. I—”

  “Don’t get shy on me now,” Regina said. “We’ve had it out over these plans enough that I know you can speak up when you need to.”

  “I’m not nervous,” Kelsey said. She bit her lip, thinking of the all she’d gone through to hide her identity: moving out of state, changing her last name, avoiding social media like it was cancerous.

  “Well, whatever is, you’ll have to get over it,” Regina said. “Or else there’s no story. This is just the kind of exposure you’ve been railing about since we started planning the gala.” Regina passed her and touched the handle of the door. “Or you can just tell Mr. Bercovitch you aren’t up to it. Either way, I have to go.” She gave Kelsey a shrug and left.

  With a headache creeping up on the back of her skull, Kelsey pulled out her ponytail holder and ran her hands through her hair. For a brief moment she considered asking Bill to talk to the media for her. But this wasn’t his forte, and although he was great at assisting her with whatever she needed, Bill wasn’t quite the type to stand up to tough questions. And for the gala to be a success, they had to nail this interview.

  Despite all the doubt in her mind, she knew she was the best one to do it. The art therapy angle had been her own idea, after all. She puffed up her chest with a deep inhale and decided to put her fears aside and step into the role.

  Ten years was a long time ago, and Florida was way across the country. Surely Ethan had given up on her by now.

  ~

  The jingle of bells heralded Logan’s entrance to the bookstore. A musty smell of old books contrasted with the scent of newly printed paper, intermingling to create a pleasant sensation. Or maybe he enjoyed the concoction because it reminded him of Jade. Either way, their spat seemed long ago, and a sense of comfort wrapped around him as he wove through the shelves to the check-out desk. They hadn’t had any more arguments about his ability.

  “Just closing up,” she said. “Perfect timing.”

  He bent over the counter, leaning forward to kiss her. “How was your day?”

  She sighed. “Busy. I’ve got so much homework.” She thumbed through bills and put them in a zippered bag. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  “Happy to.”

  Stacking papers and tidying the counter, she nodded at the front of the shop. “Bike’s out front if you want to load ’er up.”

  “Locked? Got a key?” Logan asked.

  “Combination is three, fifteen, forty-seven.”

  “I see. No key to lose, eh?”

  She nodded. “I’m almost done here. I’ll meet you out front in just a bit.”

  Fifteen minutes later they arrived at her apartment. Logan followed her inside and took his normal spot at the end of the sofa.

  “Have at the TV,” she said, nodding toward the remote and entering the kitchen.

  He wasn’t big on watching television, but he flicked it on to check the news. Jade returned with two glasses of iced tea and a notebook.

  “I’ve got to turn in my story outline next week, and I’m not even close to done.” She handed him one of the drinks and plopped down at the other end of the couch, folding her legs and setting the notebook on her lap. “Not to mention the load of reading for literature and psych. Teachers,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes.

  Logan grinned. “What slave drivers, huh?”

  “I’m sure you’re nothing like that.”

  “Nothing whatsoever.”

  Her eyes flicked up to him for a moment, allowing a soft smile before she turned back to her notebook.

  Logan turned his focus to the afternoon news. Some story about lost dogs and how animals were overrunning the shelters, ending with a call to have your pet spayed or neutered. Then a story about a little boy with terminal cancer whose dream was to become an astronaut, so NASA took him for a visit to their headquarters and let him experience zero gravity. A commercial came on, and Logan yawned.

  “…small town of
Pueblo is making big waves. We recently met with Kelsey Matthews to talk about the upcoming fundraiser and what it will mean for one group of children with special needs.” The news anchor held her microphone out to a pretty woman with a fair complexion and dark hair.

  “Tell us what you’re raising money for,” the news anchor said.

  “Sprawling Plains Mental Health Center is in the process of a full renovation and expansion, and we’re hosting a gala and art auction to raise funds for the last phase of the project.”

  “Can you tell us what’s so special about this event? I hear you’re tackling somewhat controversial issues.”

  On the screen Kelsey smiled, but there was a tightness around her eyes. “I wouldn’t call it controversial. But we’re hoping to raise awareness for the kids that stay here. Our art therapy program has been really big for some of them—helping them break out of their shells. The gala will showcase beautiful work from residents who want to share their art with the world. The auction is Saturday, and we’re nearly sold out. You won’t want to miss it.”

  “Thanks, Kelsey.”

  Logan glanced over at Jade. “She looks a lot like you. Wait—did that lady just say—”

  The onscreen dialogue continued. “It’s going to be a great event, and remember, you won’t just be having a fun evening, you’ll be supporting a wonderful cause.”

  “Kelsey?” Jade’s mouth hung open as she stared at the screen. “Kelsey Matthews,” she whispered, eyes wide. Her head slowly turned, and she met Logan’s gaze.

  “It’s her!”

  “You really think so?” he asked.

  “Yes!” Jade dropped her notebook and pen to the floor and scooted closer to Logan. “It’s got to be the same Kelsey Ethan was after. That’s not far from here. It’s too close to be a coincidence.”

  Logan nodded slowly.

  “Pueblo, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you know what this means?”

  “She’s alive and well,” he said.

  “And we can actually warn her. Before it’s too late.” Jade’s eyes were alight with intensity.

  Her fervor brought a note of worry to Logan’s mind. “Right. But it means he might be close too.”

  Jade acted as though she didn’t hear him. “We have to contact her.”

  “We should probably call the police first.”

  Jade shook her head. “She’s the one who needs to be warned. We can call the police next.”

  Logan was about to defend his point, but Jade hopped off the sofa and headed to the kitchen to grab her phone. I’m calling the medical center now.” She came back into the room with her cell phone on her ear. “It’s a recording.”

  After a solid five minutes of her pressing extension buttons and following rabbit trails—met with sighs and exasperated puffs—she finally got kicked into someone’s voicemail.

  She left a message with her name and number then crossed her arms and sighed, her index finger absently tapping against her phone.

  Logan nodded at the clock. “She’s probably gone for the day.”

  “Yeah. I guess I’ll call the police then.” Jade looked up the number for the Carlsbad Police Department and spoke to someone for a few moments.

  “Well?” Logan said when she’d hung up.

  “The lead detective will call me back when he gets in.” Jade paced the room. It looked like she was deep in thought. She fiddled with her phone, flicking a tab on its case and scrubbing at the screen with an absent finger.

  “I guess it might be a while.” She grabbed her laptop. After twenty minutes of pounding away at the computer, she sighed loudly in exasperation.

  “What?” Logan asked.

  “Kelsey’s impossible to find even when you know her last name and where she works. Her phone’s not listed. I searched the hospital website and looked for art therapists under her name, too. In case she works by contract or something, but still no direct number. I’ve got nothing.” Jade’s brows refused to unfurrow.

  The tension in the room mounted, and Logan’s anxiety grew. The thought of the kidnapper hiding somewhere in their state was too close for comfort. He couldn’t stop thinking of that man, skulking in the shadows, watching some unsuspecting victim that could just as likely be Jade.

  Suddenly Jade leaned forward. Her hand gripped Logan’s biceps. Startled, he turned to her. “We could head over there right now.”

  A vision rammed Logan in the chest: Ethan lying in wait in Pueblo, getting two victims for the price of one. He swallowed it back enough to speak. “What about all your homework? And I’ve got a stack of tests to grade.”

  “But we’ve got to go warn her.”

  The anxiety hadn’t ebbed. Logan forced a calm expression, knowing it wouldn’t help Jade, but maybe it would help himself.

  “We can’t go now,” he said.

  Jade frowned at him. “Why don’t you want to help?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to. You already tried to contact her.”

  “But what if I can do more? I can go there—”

  “And put yourself in danger?”

  Jade blinked. “Is that what this is about? You don’t need to worry about me.”

  “I have every reason to worry about you! You’re my girlfriend, and I can’t take the chance that something bad might happen if you go to Pueblo.”

  “If Ethan’s left me alone for this long, he’s moved on.”

  “Probably to Pueblo! You’d be going right in his path, for all we know. You can’t take that risk.”

  “But this is more important. Risk or no risk, I have to warn her.”

  “No risk is okay when it comes to your safety.”

  “That’s my decision to make.” The chilled edge to her voice wounded him, and he could feel this argument going places he didn’t want. He hated fighting with her again, but he couldn’t let her do this. Frustration and a sense of helplessness made him clench his toes inside his shoes, and Jade’s hands were balled.

  Forcing himself to exhale to relieve some of the tension in his voice, Logan spoke again. “You tried. We both have things to do right now. Let it lie for a day. I’m sure the detective will get a hold of you later tonight, and Kelsey’ll probably call you tomorrow.”

  Jade held his gaze but didn’t answer. She seemed to be fighting an inner battle.

  Logan put his hand on her knee and sent her a look that he hoped was understanding.

  “Okay,” she said. “We’ll talk about this all later.”

  Logan nodded. “My students’ papers won’t grade themselves.” He forced a smile but let it dissolve when she didn’t return it.

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Want me to pick you up from work tomorrow?” he asked.

  “No. I think I’ll drive. But I might come over to your place afterward. As long as I can bring homework.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He kissed her, but still worry plagued his mind.

  Unable to quench the frustration until he’d left her apartment, Logan decided his slipping control was becoming a serious problem. Sure, he had a reason to worry now, but that didn’t explain what was happening inside him.

  What could be wrong? A hormone imbalance? A blood sugar issue? He wasn’t sure what could cause this, but genetics or not, he decided to go into the clinic first thing in the morning and get checked out. He wouldn’t do Jade any good if he couldn’t control his own feelings. Logan wouldn’t even consider what might happen if he lost it with Jade the way he had with Violet.

  ~

  Ethan reclined on the couch in the darkened living room, letting the classical music drone around him. He liked it loud enough to soar from the tiny plastic buds and into his eardrums, so the acute vibrations strummed his nerves. It normally relaxed him, but tonight he was on edge. He hadn’t had the thrill of a woman in his clutches in months, and the lack was beginning to ravage his brain.

  Seated at the computer across the room, Nicodemus was scri
bbling away at a notepad. When Ethan had glanced at it earlier, the only thing written down was the number 3, over and over again. The guy was seriously bordering on nutcase.

  And Ethan had to deal with it.

  An irritating, egotistic, lazy, incompetent nutcase. If only Ethan could use computers, then there’d be little reason to keep the fool around.

  Nicodemus stretched in his seat, pushing back from the desk and glancing at the television. The box’s flickering gave Ethan a headache, but he could ignore it well enough. Keeping an eye on Nicodemus was the priority at the moment. He worked a lot harder when watched. Ethan closed his eyes and tried to focus on his music.

  An ear bud jerked out of his ear. He sat up, frowning, and pulled the other bud out, hearing snippets of noise from the TV. Nicodemus was standing over him.

  “What?”

  In the background some news anchor was blabbing about missing dogs. It must be after nine if the evening news was on. He realized he hadn’t eaten dinner.

  Nicodemus bent over him until they were face to face. “I need some—”

  Ethan realized what his accomplice was doing and averted his eyes. “I told you, no more tricks! You aren’t trying that on me again. You’re working for me, remember?”

  Nicodemus grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Then, “You ain’t my boss. I’m done for the night. Your girl can wait ’till tomorrow.”

  As if waiting seven months wasn’t enough—and ten years before that. Ethan’s hands clenched into fists. “Pull that stuff on me again, and you’ll be sorry.”

  Nicodemus slumped into one of the chairs. “Whatever.” He looked up suddenly, captured by something on TV.

  Ethan was about to ask what his problem was when he heard the news anchor.

  “…Kelsey Matthews, talking about the upcoming fundraiser…”

  The name snagged his attention, but it was the wrong one. Her last name had been Mason…unless she’d changed it…