Salvation (The Protectors, Book 2)

by Sloane Kennedy

  And then his gaze lifted to meet mine in the mirror and I sucked in a strangled breath. Fear, confusion…shame – they were all I saw.

  I shook my head and tore my eyes from his. I barely managed to tuck my now flaccid dick back into my pants and close them as I rushed from the room, leaving him there exposed and vulnerable and…fuck…broken.

  * * *

  He found me easily because unlike the last time Seth’s touch had destroyed me, I hadn’t run. Not because I didn’t want to – I did. I wanted nothing more than to get away from this place that reminded me of what I’d lost…of what I’d become. But as much as I needed to escape, my gut was telling me that I couldn’t leave just yet.

  “Ronan, it’s cold. Would you come inside please?” Seth asked as he came to a stop on the sand next to me. It had started drizzling within minutes of me fleeing the house but the moisture had felt good on my heated face. It had taken only a few minutes to make my way down the hill and I had no trouble finding the path that led to the beach. I’d ended up walking for a while before I’d forced myself to turn around and head back towards the house. But I couldn’t make myself go back up to it so I’d sat down on an old, weathered log that had washed up onto the shore some time ago based on its distance from the water.

  I didn’t respond to Seth and when he sat down next to me, I saw that his wrists were still red from where he’d fought the bindings. Nausea rolled through me and I shifted away from him so no part of his body even stood a remote chance of touching mine.

  “I’m sorry, Ronan,” I heard him whisper.

  I was certain I was going to throw up at his words and actually had to swallow back the bile that rose in my throat.

  “What?” I managed to croak.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  “Jesus, Seth,” I groaned as I got to my feet and took a few steps forward. “You don’t have a fucking thing to be sorry for,” I said harshly. “God, I almost…”

  I couldn’t even finish the word because it was so disgusting and ugly.

  “Ronan,” Seth said and I felt him come up behind me. His hand closed over my arm and I immediately stepped out of his reach. He got the message and stepped around me but kept his distance. “Ronan, I wanted what happened between us. You must know that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he admitted quietly.

  I shook my head and turned away from him with the intention of making my way back down the beach but he blocked my path.

  “I panicked because I couldn’t get my hands free...”

  Yeah, because I’d treated him like every cheap fuck I’d had in the years since Trace’s death and I’d tainted him with the stain of my dark, twisted need.

  “Seth, you don’t have to explain. What I did to you was unforgiveable.”

  Seth seemed agitated as he studied me. Finally, he said, “Trace never told you, did he?”

  “Told me what?”

  “About what really happened that day.”

  I knew exactly what day he was referring to because there were only two days in Seth’s life that he would refer to that way and Trace had only been alive for one of them. I’d been with Trace when he’d gotten the call that his family had been attacked during a brutal home invasion. At fourteen, Seth had been the only one who’d survived the nightmare and even then, it had been close because he’d been stabbed repeatedly. Trace and I had both been deployed in Afghanistan at the time and I hadn’t been able to get leave to return with him to the States, since we’d needed to keep our relationship under wraps.

  “What do you mean?” I asked as fear of what I would hear churned in my gut. Trace had been tight-lipped about the whole incident, but I’d always attributed his reluctance to discuss it as being due to the brutal way in which his parents had been killed.

  “The men…they were convinced that my dad had a safe in the house. They didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t, so they used me and my mom to force him to talk.”

  I shook my head in disbelief as I began to understand what he was telling me.

  “My mom…one of the guys, he took her upstairs. We could hear her screaming…” Seth managed to get out before he began sobbing. Even though I’d told myself I wouldn’t touch him again, I dragged him into my arms and wrapped my arms around him as his tears soaked through my shirt. I dropped my lips to the top his head.

  “My dad was begging them to stop. Then one of the guys grabbed me. My hands…my hands were tied behind my back…”

  I closed my eyes as a fresh wave of guilt washed through me. “Jesus, Seth, I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “I tried to be brave. I thought if I screamed, it would be so much harder for my dad.” Seth shook his head against my chest. “It hurt too much. They kept cutting me over and over. My stomach, my chest. My father was screaming and crying. Then they stabbed me before going after him. My mom…she’d finally stopped screaming at some point.”

  I held Seth as he continued to softly cry against me. Finally, he pulled back and I dropped my arms. “I just got scared, Ronan. But not of you…not of what you were doing.”

  I managed a nod even though his words did nothing to ease my guilt. No matter what the outcome, I never should have touched him. I remembered his inexperienced kisses and another layer of shame fell on my already heavy shoulders. “Seth, was that the first time someone touched you like that?” I asked.

  His eyes dropped to the sand and I saw his pale cheeks flush with color.

  Fuck.

  “It won’t happen again,” I finally said. “It can’t.”

  “But-”

  “It can’t,” I repeated firmly, my eyes pinning him. The strands of his hair were starting to grow heavy with moisture and I noticed the way his skin glistened beneath the light drizzle. But when a shiver went through his body, I said, “Let’s go back to the house.”

  He nodded but didn’t move. I finally moved past him and hoped that he would follow.

  He did.

  * * *

  After we’d reached the house, I’d urged Seth to take a shower and I’d used the time to retrieve my car which was parked about a half a mile from the house, on a small dirt road that provided access to the woods behind the Nichols estate. I had no trouble getting through the security gate at the end of the driveway since the code was exactly the same as it had been years ago when Trace had brought me here to meet his family. Back then, the house had been alive with warmth and happiness and I’d reveled in being so easily accepted into the fold. The concept of family was as foreign to me as my sexuality being accepted without question or contempt.

  I’d met Trace Nichols at one of the most chaotic points in my life and I’d done everything in my power to discourage his pursuit of me. And that was exactly what it had been…a pursuit.

  Eight years earlier

  “Excuse me,” I murmured without looking up at whomever I’d bumped into as they were getting off the elevator just as I was stepping on to it.

  “No problem.”

  The husky voice caught my attention and I lifted my eyes from the chart I’d been reviewing and nearly stumbled at the sight of the young soldier watching me intently as he stood in the elevator opening, his body preventing the door from closing. I swallowed hard at how beautiful he was but common sense returned quickly and I dropped my eyes. I forced myself to keep my breathing slow and even as I tried to focus on the lab results I’d been studying, but my curiosity got the better of me when I didn’t hear the elevator door slide shut and I shifted my eyes up for just a moment. The gorgeous man hadn’t moved at all and his eyes were watching me with such open hunger, that I felt my dick responding instantly. I didn’t need gaydar to know what his look meant and based on the way he was staring at me, his gaydar was working just fine…that or he didn’t care whether it was or not.

  There were no other people on the elevator or milling around the bank of elevators, but his open interest was making me uncomfortable, both physically and mentally, so I said, “Um, did you want to get
off?”

  He smiled widely at that and it hit me how the question must have sounded. To my dismay, he stepped back into the elevator and released the door which instantly slid shut, closing us off in the small space. I’d already pressed my floor and I watched in mute fascination as he began pressing every button between the floor we were on and the floor I was going to. And then he was moving to stand next to me, despite the ample amount of space available in the elevator car.

  “I’m Trace,” he said softly as his eyes traveled up and down the length of my body. I was insanely glad for the long white doctor’s coat I was wearing because it hid my very obvious physical reaction to his perusal. “What’s your name?”

  The elevator stopped and I held my breath to see if anyone else was getting on. I wasn’t sure if I wanted there to be someone on the other side of the door when it opened or not. There wasn’t.

  I let out a nervous chuckle and returned my attention to the chart. He didn’t need to know that I was having trouble focusing on it.

  I’d known I was gay for a very long time and while I hadn’t ever tried to deny it, I’d kept it close to the vest just like I did all the other personal details of my life. It was something I’d learned to do early on when my father discovered me kissing my eighth grade lab partner in my room during a study session. What had happened afterwards hadn’t been good for me.

  I’d dated a few guys here and there in college and medical school but my busy schedule had often meant an early end to any potential long-term relationships. That had left random hooks-ups in bars and clubs that often left me feeling cheap and dirty as soon as the less than spectacular orgasm wore off. And since I regularly bottomed, I wasn’t even always guaranteed said orgasm, at least not one that I couldn’t have gotten on my own anyway.

  “Dr. Grisham,” Trace murmured and I looked down to see his fingers straightening the fabric of my jacket so he could read the name stitched on the pocket of my coat.

  “Was there something you needed, Staff Sargent?” I asked as I scanned his insignia on his uniform. The rank surprised me considering he seemed to only be in his early twenties. His bright green eyes sparkled as he smiled at me and I realized I’d asked him yet another open ended question that I already suspected how he wanted to answer. “Forget I said that,” I said with a smile of my own.

  The elevator made another stop but I was strangely glad when no one got on.

  “Yes and yes,” Trace said as he shifted even closer to me.

  I looked at him in confusion. “Yes to the first question, yes to the second,” he drawled as his eyes fell to my mouth. “What’s your name, Doc?”

  If his voice had been more flirtatious, I would have been able to coolly dismiss him without a second thought. But the heavy thread of desire I heard had me wanting to do so much more than tell him something as simple as my name.

  I was saved from doing anything when the elevator door opened and a couple of nurses got on. “Morning, Dr. Grisham,” the younger of the two nurses said with a wide smile as she gave me a once over and then actually giggled as she turned her attention back on her colleague.

  “Morning,” I murmured in response. I couldn’t remember her name despite the many times she’d sent me her not-so-subtle message that she was interested in me. I’d expected Trace to move away from me when the ladies joined us, but he didn’t. To my dismay, he moved even closer and I barely stifled a moan when his fingers brushed mine. The sparks that flew were immediate and unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and the rush of having the other two occupants of the elevator car so close, yet so unaware, was heady. But Trace wasn’t just content with the minimal contact because his arm actually stretched out onto the handrail at our backs. To anyone else, he would have looked like he was just bracing himself as he leaned against it but behind my back, his hand was busy as it skimmed over my lower back before dipping down to slide over the curve of my ass. Even through the fabric of my doctor’s coat and pants, the shock of his touch reverberated through me.

  I was barely aware of the elevator dinging as the door slid open or the nurses saying their goodbyes to me as they both stepped off the elevator. Before the door even finished closing, I turned on Trace with the intention of laying into him about his behavior but then his hand was snaking around the back of my neck and drawing me forward, and any argument I was about to make died in my throat as his tongue slipped between my lips. I’d been kissed plenty of times but what Trace was doing to me wasn’t kissing. He was owning me, consuming me, changing me. In that instant, I didn’t care that I had patients to see or rounds to finish or that there was even a fucking security camera in one corner of the elevator that was likely capturing everything Trace did to me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew the elevator doors had to be opening and closing over and over again since Trace had pressed nearly every single button on the panel, but I didn’t care about that either.

  It was Trace who finally drew back from the heated kiss. “What’s your name?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Ronan,” I responded without hesitation before I leaned forward to steal another kiss. He gave it to me before putting some space between our bodies.

  “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  The request registered but I was still too off balance to answer. Luckily, my beeper went off. The sound was so jarring that I yanked myself away from him and silenced the damn thing and checked the number. It was a stat call to the OR.

  “I have to go,” I mumbled and it wasn’t until Trace handed me the medical chart I’d been reading that I realized I’d dropped it when he’d kissed me.

  “Dinner?” Trace asked again as he grabbed my arm before I could escape out the elevator door as it slid open.

  “Can’t, I’m working,” I said, glad that my common sense was finally coming back to me. Random hook-ups and dead-end relationships were one thing but dinner with a guy who could fuck me up so completely with just one kiss…no way, not happening.

  I tugged my arm free of Trace’s hold and forced myself to not look back as I hurried for the stairwell. I blew out my breath at the close call and then let the chaos of the OR engulf me as I began the process of scrubbing in for emergency surgery.

  It wasn’t until a few hours later that I had the time to wonder if I’d blown a chance at something good…or at worst, a chance at some phenomenal sex. I had my answer as soon as I left the Surgery department intent on seeing the patient I’d hadn’t gotten to before the emergency page.

  Because sitting on the small bench near the bank of elevators, was Trace.

  * * *

  “Ronan?”

  Seth’s concerned voice knocked me from my thoughts and I looked up to see him walking down the stairs, his hair damp from his shower and wearing fresh clothes. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been leaning against the inside of the front door for while I’d gotten lost in the past, but even the brief memory of Trace had my gut churning and my skin crawling.

  “Are you okay?” Seth asked as he came to a stop in front of me. He settled his hand on my arm and I couldn’t stop myself from yanking it away from him. I ignored his startled look and moved away from the door.

  “I’m fine,” I muttered. “Just need to get cleaned up,” I said as I ran my hand through my wet hair. My clothes were soaked through but I felt hot all over, like I was burning up from the inside. It was a familiar feeling and I knew it would only get worse the longer I spent in Seth’s presence.

  “Um, sure. Use any room you want,” Seth said quietly before finally turning away from me. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that the tension inside of me began to ease and the heat dissipated. I didn’t even realize my hands were clenched into fists until I reached for the handle to open the front door. I went back outside to my car to grab my bag and then made my way to the second floor where all the bedrooms were located. I bypassed the master bedroom which I knew had belonged to Seth and Trace’s parents and ignored the next room as well, since it had been Trace’s roo
m…our room on the occasions he and I had visited his family together. That left only one room – a guest room that also happened to be right next to Seth’s room.

  The guest room was nearly as large as the other three bedrooms and was nicely furnished with an iron bed covered in thick, plush bedding, a flat-screen TV above the fireplace in the corner and a nice bay window overlooking the water. The attached bathroom wasn’t as big as Seth’s but had a nice shower and vanity. But just being in the room reminded me of what I’d done to Seth in his bathroom and I felt the shame crawl over me. I’d taken something that should have been special for Seth and turned it into something dark and ugly. And if I hadn’t seen his tears, I would have fucked him without hesitation right there against his bathroom counter. Revulsion went through me even as my dick responded to the memory of seeing Seth bent over for me, his tight ass on full display.

  God, I was one sick fuck.

  I stripped off my wet jacket and removed my double shoulder holster with my twin 9mm Glocks and placed it in my bag. I searched out a change of clothes and stripped off the rest of what I was wearing and climbed into the shower. The hot water did little to soothe the raw lust that was tearing through me. I tried to bring up Trace’s face as I began stroking my dick but all I could see was Seth, his head thrown back, his eyes closed as I took his thick shaft down my throat. He’d held nothing back as I’d wrenched his orgasm from him and then, just before I’d sent him over, he’d called out my name.

  “Fuck!” I shouted as my balls drew up tight against my body and wave after wave of pleasure tore through me. I slapped my hand against the glass shower wall as jet after jet of come shot from my body. I fought to catch my breath and when I opened my eyes, I saw the proof of my release slowly sliding down the glass. An image of my come dripping out of Seth’s ass flashed through my brain and I felt my half hard dick twitch in response. I let out a foul curse and reached up to angle the shower head to wash away the thick white streams and then finished cleaning up.