Absolution (The Protectors, Book 1) (5 page)

Jonas used his sleeves to wipe at his face. “He hit her. When I went after him, he punched me and then started kicking me when I fell. I saw the knife but I was so dizzy that I couldn’t get up fast enough.” Jonas’s voice grew higher and higher in pitch as he spoke. “I could see him stabbing her over and over but by the time I got to him, she’d gone quiet.”

“How did you get away?” I asked. I knew the question sounded accusatory but I was so raw inside that I couldn’t temper my tone.

Jonas’s voice quieted. “Another girl who worked for Mateo saved my life. She’d been waiting in Mateo’s car. She followed him up to the apartment and saw him knock me down. As he was coming after me with the knife, she hit him over the head with a lamp and she got me out of there. We…we checked Carrie before we left but she was already gone…”

There was a moment of silence before Jonas whispered, “I’m so sorry, Cole,” as one of his hands closed over mine. His touch nearly sent me over the edge so I yanked my hand away. My vision was already blurring with tears and I climbed to my feet, ignoring Jonas’s stricken features. My only thought was that I’d gotten exactly what I asked for and I suddenly wished I’d never heard Jonas’s name. I let my gaze briefly roam over the young man who’d just made my sister’s death very real and then I did something I’d never done in my entire life.

I ran.

Mace

“Jonas, I’m heading out,” I said to the closed door after my knock went unanswered. I waited for several moments but then turned and hurried back down the stairs since I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hear much through the heavy door leading to Jonas’s apartment. There was no doubt in my mind that Jonas was still in there, since I’d seen him rush past me an hour earlier. He’d done his best to hide his face from me but it would have been nearly impossible to miss the tears streaking down his flushed cheeks. My gut instinct had been to grab him and demand he tell me what the fucker he’d walked out of the studio twenty minutes earlier with had done to him, but I’d managed to pretend that I hadn’t noticed how upset he was as I murmured a bland greeting. That same instinct was compelling me to turn around and order Jonas to open the door and tell me what had happened, but I managed to quell it.

It took just minutes to lock up the studio with the key Jonas had given me the day before – a sure sign that I’d managed to earn his trust – and load up the van I’d bought for cheap and loaded with ladders and other supplies to help me sell my persona as a construction worker. I drove the van around the block and parked it in an underground garage where I knew Jonas would never see it, and then hurried back to the apartment building across the street from Jonas’s studio. My computer was still sitting in the bathroom so I only had to grab the rifle from the closet. As I waited for the laptop to wake up, I lifted the gun and looked through the scope. My gut sank at the empty apartment and I realized that at some point as I’d been parking the van, Jonas had left the apartment.

“Fuck,” I muttered. But a second later, my computer lit up and I saw that I’d left the program open that linked to the listening device I’d left in Jonas’s apartment on the day we’d first met. The sound on the computer was muted since I’d been on the phone the last time I had it running but I could see the audio wave line moving up and down which meant the device was picking up some kind of sound. I hit the unmute button and froze as I heard the wracking sobs filter through the small bathroom. My stomach clenched at the strangled, agonized cries and I actually leaned back against the wall for support. I waited for the cries to end but they only let up long enough for Jonas to draw in a ragged breath and then they started all over. How many times had I heard wails like that? How many times had they come from my own lips?

I watched the waves on the program jerk up and down as my hands automatically began the process of removing the scope from my rifle. Once it was free, I stood up and began scanning Jonas’s apartment again. Using the scope without the gun gave me a little bit more freedom in finding an angle that worked without risking someone seeing the rifle and I finally spied Jonas’s mop of brown hair near the window in the far corner of his apartment. I couldn’t see more than that but I didn’t need to because I saw Jonas’s arms come up to cover his head as he let out another few wails before finally quieting to an uneven combination of hiccupping sobs. Then his arms and head disappeared completely but he didn’t get up so I figured he’d lowered himself to the ground because his crying sounded more muffled. It took another twenty minutes before the sounds stopped all together but he still didn’t get up. I kept the scope in place as I searched out my phone and dialed.

“Yeah?” Mav said.

“Did you find any connection between the mark and the Prescotts?” I asked, pleased that I’d managed to not use Jonas’s name this time around but not liking the sour taste that filled my mouth as I said it.

“No, I’ve got Benny working on it.”

Fuck.

Benny was our tech guy who could dig up even the best kept secrets of any mark. And while that part was great, he also had our team leader’s ear so anything Benny found would be filtered through Ronan first. Which wouldn’t have been an issue if I was still in the early stages of studying my target, but since I’d been hedging on pulling the trigger for almost a month now, there was no doubt that Ronan Grisham would be watching my every move at this point. It was the main reason I’d been relying so heavily on Mav to handle the operational side of things when it came to this particular case.

As much as I wanted to light into Mav, it wouldn’t change anything. “I need you to run a name for me,” I told him. “Cole Bridgerton.”

“Got it,” he said.

“And Mav…”

“Yeah?”

“You run it, not Benny,” I said firmly.

Mav was silent for a moment before he finally said, “Yeah, okay.”

I hung up and checked the scope again. Although I couldn’t see Jonas or hear him on the bug anymore, I was certain he hadn’t moved. There was no reason for me to keep standing there watching for any sign of movement because I doubted Jonas would be leaving the apartment tonight. But I didn’t lower the scope and I didn’t move from where I was.

And I had no idea why.

* * *

“Jonas, can you open the door? I’ve had a bit of an accident.”

There wasn’t even an ounce of guilt as I heard the lock disengaging less than a minute later. But even though I knew Jonas had had a rough night, I was still shocked at his condition when he opened the door.

I’d already known he’d spent much of the previous day crying and had been plagued by nightmares last night, because I’d heard every single one. The first one had happened shortly after midnight, about twenty minutes after Jonas had dragged himself off the floor and crawled into his bed. I’d set up the laptop next to my bed and had just managed to nod off when I heard the screams come through the computer’s speakers. I’d jolted awake and had already reached for my gun that I kept next to the mattress before I realized what was happening. By the time I’d reached the bathroom and looked through the scope which luckily had night vision on it, Jonas had stopped screaming but his sobs were so loud that I could hear them in the bathroom even though I’d left the laptop in the bedroom. And with every sob, I’d watched his body curl tighter and tighter into a fetal position.

It had taken more than an hour before he’d fallen asleep again but I hadn’t bothered trying to go back to sleep at that point. Less than fifteen minutes later, I listened as Jonas began quietly repeating the word “no” over and over until his screams once again ripped through the apartment. I’d returned to my perch in the bathroom and watched him for a while until he drifted off but didn’t move back to my own bed because I knew there was no point. In the weeks I’d been watching Jonas, I’d watched him sleep on more than one occasion when my own nightmares kept me from enjoying the short-lived peace that I only found when the darkness of sleep claimed me, and I hadn’t once seen any indication that Jonas was plagued with the same affliction. The reason for the sudden change was clear because only one thing had changed in Jonas’s normal routine.

Cole Bridgerton.

“What happened?” Jonas asked as he opened the door wider and automatically reached for my left hand which I was holding lax in my right hand.

“Hammer got away from me,” I said, injecting as much self-deprecation into my tone as I could. “If I could just get some ice, I’ll get out of your hair.”

Jonas’s next move didn’t surprise me at all. It was exactly why I’d deliberately smashed the hammer against the back of my hand in the first place.

“Come in,” he said quickly as he carefully grabbed my arm. His red, puffy eyes skimmed over the injury as he held my hand in his and used his foot to kick the door closed. “Sit,” he said softly as he led me to the same chair he’d had me sit in the first time his need to nurture had kicked in. I wasn’t particularly proud to exploit his instinct, but I’d gotten what I wanted – the chance to see for myself that he was okay, and hopefully, draw him out. It wasn’t something that made sense to me since my job was only to make him pay for the atrocities he’d committed but I’d given up on having that same argument with myself all morning long as I waited for him to come down to the main studio. Even then, just watching him through my scope should have been enough to satisfy me as to his condition, but it wasn’t. Yet another revelation I didn’t want to explore too much.

As Jonas went to his refrigerator to get the ice, I scanned his apartment. It looked exactly like it had the day before when I’d watched him after he’d returned from his meeting with Cole. The same exact dishes that had been piled on the counter next to the sink were still there, which had me wondering if he’d even eaten and a glance over my shoulder at his bed showed the bedding was still messed up. None of his paint supplies looked like they’d been touched, which was unusual in itself because in the entire time I’d been watching Jonas, he always spent at least part of his day painting.

Jonas returned to my side with a plastic baggie full of ice cubes and a towel.

“Thanks,” I said as I started to stand but when I reached for the baggie, he dropped a hand on my arm and gently urged me back down. Just like every other touch he’d bestowed on me, whether intentional or by accident, it burned my skin in a delicious way.

“Can you move your fingers?” Jonas asked as he pulled up the other chair and sat across from me. I had to spread my legs a bit so he could move close enough to examine my hand and I had to fight the urge not to move in such a way that our legs were touching.

I wiggled my fingers slowly and didn’t need to fake my wince. Apparently I’d been a little overenthusiastic with the hammer.

Jonas seemed satisfied and gently lowered the towel-covered baggie down to my hand. “Sorry, this might hurt,” he murmured. His eyes remained fixed on my hand and I used the opportunity to take in the rest of his appearance. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d had on yesterday, and his skin looked pale except for the areas around his nose and eyelids, which looked red and chafed – further proof that his crying jags had continued during the times I hadn’t been watching him through the scope.

I hadn’t had a chance to connect with Mav this morning to see what, if anything, he’d found out about Cole Bridgerton, so I wasn’t used to feeling so unprepared for a conversation. I usually had all the answers well before I asked the questions, but just like everything else with the young man in front of me, I was off my game.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jonas didn’t lift his eyes but I felt the tremor in his fingers where he was using his palm to support my hand as his other hand held the ice in place. I was surprised when he didn’t try to pretend he didn’t know what I was talking about. Instead, there was an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“Did he hurt you, Jonas?”

Fuck, I hadn’t meant to ask that question. It was way too personal. His surprise mirrored mine because he lifted his eyes to look at me. I held my breath in anticipation of his answer because it shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. It absolutely mattered.

“No,” Jonas finally responded, his voice sounding hoarse. “He just…meeting him brought back a lot of memories for me.”

“You’d never met him before yesterday?” I asked carefully.

“Um, no. I…I knew his sister.” His voice dropped off on the word sister and I knew if I pressed any harder, I’d lose him. Besides, I was supposed to be keeping my distance so I could finally reach an unbiased conclusion about the young man’s innocence or guilt. And I’d been doing a pretty decent job up until yesterday.

Until Jonas had brought me a cup of coffee. A simple cup of coffee and a fucking container of cinnamon and he’d done what he’d been doing from the first moment I saw him through my scope. He’d made me want to find some way to prove he wasn’t like the others. I wanted the veil of innocence he wore like a mantle to be real. I wanted one reason, any reason, that meant I wouldn’t have to put a bullet through his brain.

Jonas dropped his gaze again and I watched a single tear escape his eye. One fucking tear and I did exactly what I told myself I wouldn’t. I touched him.

When I cupped the side of his face with my hand, he didn’t move, barely breathed. I slid my thumb over the fallen tear and marveled at the way his skin glistened from the tiny bit of moisture. I was telling myself to pull my hand back when he suddenly closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. I knew I was treading on dangerous ground with what I was doing, but I couldn’t pull my hand away, because I’d finally been able to give him what I’d spent the entire night wanting to give him as I listened to every heartbreaking, soul-wrenching sob that had worked its way out of his throat. And it wasn’t enough. The need to take away his pain had me leaning forward, and even though Jonas didn’t open his eyes, he tensed in my hold and I knew that he knew what I was planning.

I ignored every warning bell going off in my head as I slowly tipped Jonas’s head up at the same time that I pulled him forward. And then it was over because the second my phone rang, Jonas jerked his whole body back so fast that the chair he was sitting in nearly tipped over. The bag of ice hit the floor and he quickly jumped up and scooped it up as I searched out my phone and silenced it.

“I’ll just add a little more ice to this and then you can take it with you,” Jonas stuttered as he hurried back to the refrigerator. I glanced at the phone, saw that it was Mav and sent the call to voicemail. My muscles felt tight as I fought the need to finish what I’d started, but then I remembered the broken sobs that had tormented the young man in front of me for the last twenty-four hours.

“I think it’s okay now,” I forced myself to say as I stood up.