I took my time getting dressed. It was barely six o’clock but I seriously debated just calling it a night. Not because I was tired but because I wasn’t sure I had the strength to face Seth again.
I actually laughed at the irony that my life had become. I’d spent nearly six years transforming myself into a man who would never again be crippled by fear. I could take down any opponent with any weapon I was given and I’d taken the lives of some of the most brutal of criminals with barely an afterthought. And yet, here I stood, afraid to confront an innocent, gentle young man because he held more power over me than any other living soul.
But I had good reason to fear Seth because I knew that all it would take was one touch…one perfect touch and I’d shatter into a million pieces. And there would be no coming back from that.
Chapter Four
Seth
I felt tears stinging the backs of my eyes as I began pulling things out of the refrigerator for dinner. I hadn’t thought it possible that my day could get any worse after the mugging this afternoon but, oh, was I wrong. I’d been foolish to think that Ronan had shown up for any other reason than obligation, but my behavior in my bathroom had stolen the show because I’d actually believed for the briefest of moments that Ronan wanted me…not just anyone, not Trace…me. The fact that I wasn’t even an adequate placeholder had become clear when Ronan couldn’t get away from me fast enough in the front hallway. I’d thought he’d just been upset down by the beach when he’d pulled away from me after I’d touched him to get his attention, but when he’d done it again by the front door, I finally understood that I’d been utterly and completely wrong in thinking anything had changed since the day he’d walked out of my life three years ago.
I felt Bullet brush up against my leg and looked down to see his brown eyes watching me knowingly. My dog had a knack for sensing when my anxiety was starting to spike and had proven himself as more than just a pet over the years. I put down the knife I’d been using to chop vegetables and then slid down to sit on the floor, my back against the cabinet. Bullet instantly draped himself over my lap and tucked his head under my chin. I managed to stifle my tears but I didn’t hesitate to bury my face in his soft fur as I tried to get a hold of myself. The irony that the very dog Ronan had gifted me with shortly after Trace’s death was now my only source of comfort wasn’t lost on me.
I still remembered the day Ronan had shown up with the squirming bundle of brown and black fur. It had been the first time I’d seen him since I’d received word of Trace’s death two months earlier. The news had been devastating but even more so since I’d had to endure it by myself. My grandmother had come to live with me after my parents’ deaths and Trace’s return to the army, but within weeks of her arrival, I’d known that her mental health had started a rapid decline that took more and more of her from me each day. So when the Army Chaplain and representative had shown up to tell me Trace had died in a training exercise, my grandmother hadn’t understood who the men were and why they were there. I’d ended up settling her in front of the television and turned on the sports channel which, for some inexplicable reason, was the only thing that kept her occupied for any length of time. And then I’d had to listen as the men made their speech about how valued Trace’s service to our country had been. I hadn’t cared about any of that, of course. All I’d cared about was trying to figure out how I’d gone from having a near perfect life with parents who’d loved me and a brother I’d idolized, to being an orphan at the age of fourteen.
And then Ronan had shown up. He’d never explained why he hadn’t come sooner or why he hadn’t been the one to tell me about Trace and I hadn’t asked. I’d been too happy to see him to even care. He hadn’t hated me back then because the first thing I’d done when I’d opened the door and had seen him standing there, was wrap my arms around him and cry for a good ten minutes. The puppy had been squashed between us and it had spent the whole time licking my face as Ronan had held me and told me everything was going to be okay.
And for a few years, everything had been okay. Because despite the challenges of trying to deal with all the things that had happened, as well as my grandmother’s ailing health, I’d had the prospect of Ronan’s visits to look forward to. And although his visits weren’t regular or often, just knowing he was there if I needed him was enough to keep me going.
Until he wasn’t.
I still remembered the day I’d gambled everything…and lost.
I hadn’t planned on kissing Ronan…yes, I’d dreamed of doing it, but I hadn’t planned it. But when he’d wrapped his arms around me and said goodbye and that he’d be back soon, I’d felt his cheek brush mine as he began pulling away from me and a need unlike any I’d ever known had taken over me and I’d turned my head just enough to brush my lips over his. He’d frozen in place as I’d covered his entire mouth with mine and when I’d pulled back, I’d felt his fingers press into my back where he was holding me. I’d been sure it was a sign that he wanted me, had liked what I’d done, but then he’d slowly dropped his arms and stepped away from me. And the second I’d seen the look in his eyes, I’d known I’d fucked up.
He hadn’t been angry, hadn’t asked me why I’d done it or insisted it couldn’t happen again. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all. He’d just looked at me like he didn’t know me and then he’d turned and walked out the door and I’d never heard from him again.
Until today.
Bullet’s wet tongue brought me back to the present and I shook my head as I gave him a pat. Footsteps in the hallway had me pushing the hundred-pound dog off me and I hurriedly climbed to my feet and went to the sink to wash my hands and run a towel over my face. I didn’t look at Ronan as he entered the kitchen, but I could hear Bullet’s nails clicking on the tile floor as he greeted the other man.
I focused on the tomato I’d been cutting up before Bullet had distracted me, but it took all my effort not to acknowledge Ronan as he came up behind me.
“Can I help?”
I swallowed hard because I wanted so badly to lean back against the big body I could sense behind me.
“Um, yeah. Do you want to finish making the salad?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I was proud of myself for schooling my reaction as I turned to hand him the knife. Gone was the sharp looking suit and in its place was a pair of jeans that lovingly hugged his thick thighs, and a black T-shirt that stretched over his biceps and pectoral muscles. It had been years since I’d seen Ronan so casually dressed and I hadn’t realized how much he’d bulked up since Trace’s death. He’d always been fit but now he just looked…dangerous.
I gave Ronan the knife and thanked God it was a big kitchen because I needed to get as far away from him as I could before I did yet another stupid thing like touch him again. I went to the freezer and pulled out some chicken breasts and began the process of defrosting them.
“What are you making?” Ronan asked as he worked.
“Chicken Cacciatore.”
“Hmmm. my favorite,” Ronan murmured.
I stilled and then realized I’d started making the meal without any thought to that fact. It had been Trace’s favorite too, but I knew that wasn’t what had been in my subconscious as I’d begun gathering the ingredients. An insane, overwhelming need to escape rushed through me and I turned to look at Ronan.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t have him here and pretend everything was okay, that we were back to where we’d been before I’d kissed him three years ago. I was finally getting my life together but having Ronan around only to lose him again would destroy me. I knew it in my gut. Ronan’s back was to me as he worked and I opened my mouth to tell him that he needed to leave but then I saw him reach up to get a strainer out of the cabinet above the sink. The fact that he knew that’s where my mom kept it was telling, but even though it looked like Ronan belonged here, I knew better.
“Ronan…”
“Just a sec,” he said as he stretched to reach the stra
iner, his T-shirt riding up.
And then I saw the gun tucked in the waistband of his pants.
“Yeah,” Ronan said as he turned to face me.
I can’t do this.
Four easy words that would free me from this man.
“Do you want something to drink?”
I kept calling myself a fool and a coward as I went to the fridge to get the soda Ronan asked for and then I began pulling the rest of the ingredients for dinner together. Ronan and I worked in silence and an hour later, we were sitting across the kitchen table from one another eating the same way. It wasn’t until about half way through the meal that I finally found the courage to ask one of the many questions that had been bouncing around my head from the moment I’d suspected Ronan was watching me from the dense woods behind my house.
“He asked you to watch out for me, didn’t he?” I murmured between bites, not daring to look up as I spoke. “Trace…he asked you to check on me before he died. That’s why you’ve been watching me.”
“Yes.”
It was hard to swallow the piece of meat I’d been chewing when he responded. I’d figured obligation was his reason for coming to see me early on after Trace’s death, but I’d hoped maybe things had changed.
I put down my fork and pushed my plate away. “Are you still practicing medicine?”
“No.”
The one word answers were frustrating but at least he wasn’t trying to evade my questions all together. I finally lifted my eyes and saw that Ronan had stopped eating and was staring at me. He had his arms braced on the table and his hands were pressed together. But he kept tapping the pads of his fingers together in a certain, rhythmic pattern.
“What do you do for work now?”
“Consulting,” he answered.
“What kind of consultants carry a gun?”
“The kind who know how to use them,” he quipped.
Irritation went through me and I reached for my plate and stood. I dumped the uneaten food into the garbage can and rinsed the plate before putting it in the dishwasher. I began cleaning up the rest of the dishes.
“Don’t ask the question if you’re not prepared to hear the answer,” I heard from behind me.
Anger went through me as I turned around to see Ronan putting his plate on the island that separated us.
“That wasn’t an answer and you fucking know it, Ronan,” I snapped. He stiffened and then straightened his body. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to intimidate me. I realized I didn’t care. “Here’s a question,” I said. “When did you become such a fucking coward?”
If not for the tension in his jaw and the darkness settling in his eyes, I would have thought him unaffected by the jab.
“You didn’t want me three years ago,” I bit out. “I get that. But not one word – not one fucking word to let me know that you were okay…to ask if I was okay?”
I snatched Ronan’s plate off the island and dropped it into the sink, not caring that it broke. “Watching me from the woods like some stalker-”
I didn’t get any further because Ronan grabbed me and spun me around and pushed me back against the counter. “You’re a smart guy, Seth,” he muttered even as his hands pinned mine next to my body. “You saw me in your bathroom,” he said as he dropped his mouth close to mine. “You felt me,” he nearly whispered against my lips. “Did it feel like I didn’t want you?”
I cursed my body for responding to his nearness, but I cursed the fact that I was so desperate to believe him even more.
“You wouldn’t let me touch you-”
“That’s about me, not you,” he interrupted. His mouth actually grazed the skin next to my lips as he spoke.
I wanted to ask what he meant, but I was too stunned to realize what he was admitting to. But my fledgling hope died a quick death as what he wasn’t saying hit me. He wanted me but he didn’t want to want me.
“I…I think you should go, Ronan,” I managed to say despite the sudden tightness in my throat.
Ronan hung there for a moment and I wished like hell he’d ignore my request and seal his mouth over mine. But then his hands fell from mine and he stepped back.
“Not until I get some answers,” he finally said.
I nodded because at that point, I was willing to do just about anything to get away from him for good.
Chapter Five
Ronan
To keep myself from reaching for Seth again, I went around the island and retrieved the few remaining dishes from the table. Seth had turned his back to me by the time I got back to the sink and I was glad, because I needed both the physical and mental distance. I’d already made myself more vulnerable than I wanted to admit by revealing my aversion to being touched to Seth. It would have been easier to let him believe I didn’t want him but it was one lie I just couldn’t stomach.
“You said you were attacked in your office building’s garage – were you coming or going?” I asked.
“Going. I was on my lunch break.”
“Is the garage secure?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are there security guards or parking attendants?” I clarified.
“Um, there’s an attendant but I guess anyone on foot can technically get into the garage.”
“You’ll want to talk to your boss about adding extra security. If the owner of the building isn’t willing to do it then your boss should foot the bill,” I said. “The other companies in the building might be willing to go in on the cost together.”
“Okay…” Seth responded non-committedly.
“Seth, if you want me to talk to someone for you-”
“No,” he said. “I mean, that’s not necessary. It’s my building. I’ll make the call tomorrow.”
I was caught off guard by his admission. “Your building?”
“Yeah, well, it’s the company’s technically. My dad bought it just before…just before he died. The business was growing so fast that he wanted to make sure he had enough room to keep expanding.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise. “You took over your dad’s shipping company?”
“I’m still learning but yeah, it’s mine. My father’s business partner is teaching me the ropes.”
Seth’s father had started a global shipping business several years before Trace was born and within a matter of years, it had become one of the top companies in the industry, netting millions in profit every year. At the time of their deaths, Trace and Seth’s parents had amassed a personal fortune of nearly a hundred million dollars. Seth and Trace had inherited the bulk of the estate, but Trace had never shown any interest in running the company and Seth had been so young that I hadn’t considered he might one day take it over. God knew he had enough money to do whatever he wanted with the rest of his life. Of course, then again, so did I since Trace had left his entire inheritance to me. At first, I’d been horrified by the prospect of profiting from Trace’s death, but when I’d realized I could use the money to get justice for Trace and so many others like him, I’d been grateful for it.
“I didn’t know that was something you were interested in,” I said to Seth.
He cast me a look that didn’t need words. I didn’t know because I hadn’t made an effort to find out. In the years that I’d been checking on Seth after Trace died, I’d been too lost in my own grief and hate to really focus on what was happening to Seth beyond making sure he had the basics covered. I hadn’t even realized the extent of his grandmother’s declining mental health until one of my last visits just before she died. Seth had only been sixteen at the time and I hadn’t had any idea what to do for a guardian for him after he called me to tell me she’d passed, but by the time I’d arrived for the funeral, he’d taken care of the situation by getting himself emancipated.
“I’m sorry Seth, I should have done a better job of knowing what was going on after Trace-”
“Anything else?” Seth cut in, refusing to look at me. Beyond the hurt in his voice was anger.
“Who was the guy this afternoon?” I asked. The question had nothing to do with trying to figure out if Seth was in danger but the curiosity of what the man meant to Seth was driving me crazy.
“Barry?” Seth asked. “A friend.”
“He said you were his patient.”
Seth turned around, his hands clenched into fists. “Are you done?” he bit out. “Because I am. I want you to leave.”
He walked past me but I grabbed his arm. I expected him to fight me but he didn’t. He just stood there, completely still except for the slight tremor in his body but I couldn’t tell if it was anger or something else.
“He wanted you,” I said, hating the jealousy that took over me.
Seth looked at me and for once, his expression was unreadable. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like it one bit. Then he did something unexpected. Instead of pulling away from me, he stepped into me and his free hand came up to close over the fingers I had wrapped around his wrist. I automatically let go of him and stepped back until I hit the island behind me.
“At least someone does,” Seth whispered and then he left the kitchen.
* * *
Seth was gone by the time I got up the next morning, so I pulled up the tracking app on my cell phone. I’d placed a tracking device on his car the day before, so I wasn’t overly concerned about missing him leaving. The app showed that he was in downtown Seattle, presumably his office. Since it was barely seven o’clock, I figured he’d had to have gotten up pretty early to catch one of the first ferries from Whidbey Island to the mainland. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was his normal routine or if he hadn’t wanted to risk running into me this morning.
I hadn’t slept well after my encounter with Seth the night before and for the first time since my arrival, I’d started to wonder if I was doing more harm than good. I’d known Seth would be angry with me for the way I’d cut him out of my life after he’d kissed me three years ago, but I was starting to realize that I’d started the process of cutting him out of it much sooner than that. I’d gone through the motions of being there for him but I hadn’t really been what he’d needed.
Salvation (The Protectors, Book 2) Page 4