Read Saving Ren (Barretti Security Series, Book 3) Online
Authors: Sloane Kennedy
Declan fell silent at that and Jagger felt a strange urge to reach out and wipe the tension from his brow. Which made no fucking sense because he couldn’t stand the guy.
“What’s your plan?” Declan finally asked.
“We get him through the next few weeks. Make him feel safe enough so that he can focus on other things like seeing a professional and reaching out to his brothers. One of us is with him 24/7 for as long as it takes.”
“And if he doesn’t go for it?” Declan asked.
“That’s one choice he doesn’t get to make.”
“Ren, you have to do it.”
“No.”
“Don’t tell my parents…don’t tell them I was scared, okay?”
“Brandon, please, I can’t.”
“It hurts so bad Ren. Please, you have to make it stop…”
“No!”
“Damn it Ren, wake up!”
Ren jolted awake as hard fingers dug into his shoulder. The ground beneath him was surprisingly smooth as he scrambled away from his attacker. Even the usually rough earth at his back felt wrong. There were no sharp edges digging into his skin or large rocks that forced his body to curve at unnatural angles. And the dust that perpetually coated his tongue and throat was gone too. And the light? Why was it so fucking light?
A shot of victory went through him as his fist connected with flesh and bone and the sound of a muffled grunt had him swinging out his leg in an effort to bring his captor all the way to the ground where he could strike a lethal blow. But there was no contact as his target anticipated the move and within seconds Ren was flat on his back, a heavy body holding him down.
“Ren, it’s me, Jagger!”
Ren fought like a man possessed but his body was too weak and it only took a minute before he was too winded to do anything other than twist and turn his body in a futile effort to knock his opponent free. His eyes slowly began to focus as the sensitivity lessened and he stilled when he realized he was looking at an intricate tattoo on a heavily muscled arm. He followed it up to where it disappeared beneath a black T-shirt.
“If you promise not to take another swing at me, I’ll let you go,” he heard a rumbly voice say. His gaze lifted until it met a pair of gray eyes that reminded him of the storm clouds he and his little brother used to watch from the window of the bedroom they’d shared as kids. Rafe had always been frightened because he knew the clouds would inevitably be followed by thunder and lightning but Ren had loved them because there was nothing more exciting than the rush of the entire house shaking as a blast of thunder swept over it.
“You’re Declan’s friend,” Ren finally said as the events from the previous night began to play through his head. There was a certain amount of time that remained lost to him but he did remember this man. “You gave me soup.”
Jagger’s smile was wide and softened his otherwise hard features. His bald head, scarred face and huge body made him look like a biker on steroids but the chuckle that rumbled through his chest as he released Ren was strangely comforting.
“Yeah, well, it was either that or a can of fruit cocktail. I hate that shit,” he added as he climbed to his feet and reached his hand down. Ren took it but quickly released it as soon as he was upright. Jagger’s hand was warm…too warm.
“I used to do that,” he heard Jagger say and he glanced up from the hand he’d been staring at and saw that Jagger was looking at the bed sheet Ren had placed on the floor in the corner of the room. “Took me almost six months to get used to a mattress after I go out.” He looked down at the shoes Ren had put back on last night after he’d woken up. “Did that too…never would’ve guessed I’d need to teach myself how to sleep without shoes on.”
“You served?” Ren asked.
Jagger nodded. “173
rd
Airborne Brigade,” he said.
“Paratrooper?” Ren asked in surprise.
“Yeah. Always dreamed of flying fighter jets but that wasn’t in the cards so jumping out of a plane seemed like the next best thing,” Jagger responded. Something flickered in Jagger’s eyes but it disappeared just as quickly.
“What time is it?” Ren asked as his stomach rolled with hunger. It had been a while since he actually felt hungry and the sensation was foreign. His system had gotten so used to surviving on so little that the prospect of food actually nauseated him even as his body yearned for it.
“Just after nine.”
A glance at the single small window in the room told Ren it was morning instead of evening so that meant he’d actually slept through the night. He couldn’t even recall the last time that had happened. “Where’s my gun?” he asked as the familiar tingle began to make his skin itch. He didn’t wait for Jagger to answer as he went to the nightstand and began rifling through it.
“It’s not there,” Jagger said from behind him.
“Where is it? I need it,” Ren said quickly as he hurried to the dresser.
“It’s gone. You’re safe now – you don’t need it.” The pity in Jagger’s voice grated on his nerves.
“What do you mean it’s gone?” Ren snapped as he whirled on Jagger. But Jagger didn’t answer him and Ren tore out of the room and rushed to the kitchen and began searching all the drawers and cabinets.
“Ren, I swear to you, you’re safe.”
“Don’t you get it? I’ll never be safe!” Ren shouted. “They said they’d come after me! They’re going to find me…my brothers!”
“It was part of the act, Ren. They were trying to get in your head.”
Ren shook his head. Believing that was too big of a risk. “I want my fucking gun!” he yelled. But Jagger just looked at him sadly.
“Fuck!” Ren screamed and he yanked the drawer he was in the process of opening off its rollers and threw it to the floor. He scanned the contents before doing the same to the next drawer. His breath was coming in heavy pants as he kneeled down and searched through the mess.
“The knives are gone too,” Jagger said softly.
Ren rose and viciously kicked at the debris. He
had
been searching for a knife. Even the dullest butcher knife could still be deadly if wielded correctly and he would have been able to take at least two or three guys out before they got their hands on him again. He pushed past Jagger and headed for the front door.
“Your car’s been disabled.”
What the fuck?
Ren froze in the process of reaching for the doorknob. “No,” he heard himself whisper. Denial went through him at the realization that if what Jagger said was true, he was stuck here with no way out…no way to defend himself. He hurried out the door and rushed to his car. The GTO was exactly where he’d left it. He had no idea where the keys were but he could hotwire it if worse came to worse. He lifted the hood of the car and felt the panic rush through him as he searched the engine he’d painstakingly restored himself. Sure enough, the ignition and fuel pump fuses were both missing. He desperately looked around and his eyes lit up at the sight of the car sitting behind his.
“It’s disabled too and Declan took the fuses with him,” Jagger said from somewhere behind him.
At that point Ren lost it and he flew at the other man. But as before, Jagger anticipated his moves and quickly overpowered him.
“If you’ve got enough energy to keep taking swings at me, you’ve got enough energy to take a little walk. You can see for yourself that it’s just us out here,” Jagger said.
Strong fingers closed around his arm and started dragging him towards the woods that surrounded the cabin.
***
Jagger felt a surge of pity go through him as Ren’s eyes darted all around them. The man had only fought him for a few moments when Jagger had forced him onto a narrow hiking trail north of the cabin. Between the heavy plant growth that covered the path and the moderate incline, Ren was breathing hard within minutes. The additional anxiety of expecting someone to jump them at any moment had Ren’s hands clenched in perpetual fists and he flinched every time he or Jagger stepped on a branch. With each minute that passed and Ren’s anxiety failed to ease, doubt coursed through Jagger. What if he’d misjudged what he and Declan could do for this man?
The idea of condemning Ren to a future in a mental health facility that would dope him with drugs to keep him out of trouble went against everything Jagger believed in; he’d seen far too many good men get lost in the system that was supposedly designed to care for their specific needs. But could he and Declan really help ease Ren’s pain long enough that the young man could decide for himself to seek treatment? Last night he’d been so sure they could but seeing Ren’s despair as he’d realized he had no weapon or means of escape had ripped something open inside of Jagger.
“How about we take a break?” Jagger said softly when he saw the sweat forming on Ren’s flushed skin.
Ren didn’t answer him and he wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t heard him or he’d chosen to ignore him. It didn’t really matter since Ren made the decision to stop less than ten minutes later. He sank down onto a fallen log, his breath coming in shallow pants as he ran his palms back and forth over his thighs. Jagger carefully lowered himself down next to Ren and considered it a small victory when the other man didn’t move away from him.
“Why are you doing this?” Ren asked though his eyes continued to scan the area surrounding them.
Jagger remained silent as he considered his words carefully. “Believe it or not, I know a little bit of what you’re going through,” he finally said. When Ren remained silent, Jagger continued. “I tried to keep count of the number of men I killed when I was first deployed. Tried to remember their faces too. I guess I wanted to make sure I never got too comfortable doing it.”
“Did you?” Ren asked.
“Get comfortable?”
“Keep count?” Ren clarified.
“I lost track after a while. I still see some of the faces though. Especially the innocents.”
Ren shifted slightly and Jagger had to force himself to ignore the feel of Ren’s thigh brushing against his.
“First guy I killed was using a little boy as a shield,” Ren said quietly. “My aim was good but the guy jerked as he fell and his gun went off. Kid was gone before I could even get to him.”
As disheartening as their conversation was, Jagger was glad to see that Ren’s eyes had dropped to study his hands instead of the woods around them.
“I don’t think anyone ever gets comfortable with it,” Ren said. “Whether you kill one or a hundred.”
Jagger was surprised when Ren looked up at him. “Why are you doing this?” he asked again. The bright blue eyes that were shrouded with pain had Jagger reaching out to stroke his fingers over Ren’s face. Luckily he caught himself at the last moment and ran his fingers over his own head instead.
“Because I want you to be able to go home someday.”
Ren nodded. “I understand,” he whispered. Jagger didn’t like the tone he’d used to say it though. He sounded almost…disappointed. But that didn’t make any sense.
“What is it that you understand exactly?” Jagger asked.
Ren’s eyes stared straight ahead. “My brothers hired you to find me over there,” he said. “You’re just doing your job.”
This time Jagger did reach for Ren and the feel of the man’s early morning stubble felt amazing against Jagger’s fingers as he closed them around Ren’s chin and forced Ren to look at him.
“My ‘job’ ended the second you stepped onto American soil. I’m here because I know what a good man you are,” Jagger said. “Vin has been telling stories about you since the day he asked me to join the team to bring you home. You may not know me from Adam but I sure as hell feel like I know you. I want you to have a shot at a life…a real life. I don’t care if it’s the one you had before all this shit went down or a new one you create for yourself. As long as it’s your choice.”
Ren’s gaze softened and Jagger wondered what it would feel like to lift his thumb just enough so that he could drag it over the full, soft lips. Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with him? Not only was this guy straight, he was incredibly vulnerable and only a complete scumbag would be lusting after him right now.
Jagger forced himself to release his hold on Ren and dropped his hand. “You ready to head back?” he asked.
Ren considered it for a moment and no one was more surprised than Jagger when he said, “Let’s go a little bit farther.”
***
Why the hell wouldn’t his skin quit tingling? Ren’s hand traveled to his chin and smoothed over where Jagger had touched him, half expecting to find some evidence there that would explain the sensation that he’d felt when those thick fingers had held his face. And Jagger’s words…he sure as hell didn’t mince them because Ren had believed everything he’d said. The brief – and strange – disappointment that had come over Ren when he’d realized he was just a job to Jagger had disappeared when the bigger man had looked down at him with open honesty and explained what he wanted for Ren. Ren knew that the future Jagger envisioned for him wasn’t a realistic one, but God it had felt good to have someone want that for him.
“Declan’s back,” he heard Jagger say and Ren nearly stumbled to a halt when he realized that not only had they completed a half circle and started heading back to the cabin, but that he hadn’t once searched the woods around him for shadows or focused on every snapping twig. Not since Jagger had touched him…
***
Declan was in the process of grabbing a couple of shopping bags from the trunk of his car when his eyes fell on Jagger and Declan as they exited the woods. His eyes instantly scanned Ren for any sign of distress and although he looked tense and uncomfortable, it was a thousand times better than how he’d looked last night. And Jagger…well, Jagger looked like he always did – big, overbearing, arrogant…and fucking hot. Declan cursed as the dreaded image of the two men surrounding him filtered once more through his mind like it had when Zane had been fucking him. Jesus, had that only been yesterday?