Absolution (The Protectors 1)

I’d gotten home from the party a few hours ago, but as darkness had started to fall, I’d found myself too restless and agitated to paint, so I’d spent the last couple of hours unpacking and organizing the supplies that had arrived earlier in the day. I was excited at the prospect of watching kids who’d never held a paintbrush before get to experience the freedom that came with it. And I was looking forward to finally have some normalcy back in my life. Being around Mace and Cole had brought back a mess of feelings I’d thought I’d buried long ago.

As I studied the plain white walls in the studio, I began to contemplate the idea of painting murals on them but my thoughts were interrupted when I heard the gallery door unlock. I couldn’t see who it was from my position but I could guess, because the only other people who had keys were Mace and Casey, and I knew Casey would be knee deep in preparations for their flight in the morning. So knots of tension started to form as I got to my feet and walked into the gallery.

Mace paused when he saw me, but he didn’t speak and I noticed the same agitation he’d had when he’d muttered his goodbyes just before leaving Casey and Devlin’s house. I’d long ago lost my fear of Mace but there was something in the way that he was looking at me that was off, and I couldn’t make my feet move forward towards him. But I didn’t have to because he came to me. I didn’t even realize I’d backed away from him until my back hit the brick wall behind me. I held my breath as Mace reached out to cup my face with his hand. I thought maybe he was going to kiss me, but he just held me that way, his dark eyes latched to mine.

“I fucked up, Jonas,” he whispered. “I need you to believe that I didn’t know.”

“Know what?” I managed to ask in spite of the ball of anxiety that was bouncing around in my gut.

“Tell me about Cole’s sister.”

“What?” I asked, surprised by the change in topic.

“How did you know her?”

“I met her in Chicago…”

“How old were you?”

“Fourteen,” I answered, still not sure what he wanted from me. His body was brushing mine and his hand was still wrapped around my cheek, but his thumb had started brushing back and forth over my skin.

“Why were you in Chicago?”

“I…I didn’t know where to go after my parents kicked me out. I ended up at the bus station and I saw this poster for Chicago and I had just enough money for a bus ticket there. I kept thinking they’d have a lot of art galleries in Chicago…” I said numbly as I was transported back to that moment that I’d stood surrounded by people going about their daily lives, as I was trying to figure out what had just happened to mine.

“What happened when you got there?”

I automatically shook my head and tried to pull away from him. But then he brushed his lips over mine and I stilled. It was over as quickly as it started but the aftermath was brutal. My heart began pounding so hard in my chest that it actually hurt.

“Please tell me, Jonas.”

“I met a man who told me he could help me out. He said he knew some people who would give me a job. He seemed really nice.” I closed my eyes to try to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. “I was so fucking stupid,” I whispered.

This time Mace’s lips skimmed the cheek he wasn’t holding, and then his lips settled against my ear, “It wasn’t your fault, Jonas. Do you understand me?”

I’m not sure if I nodded or not.

“Was it Mateo Santero?”

I wondered how he knew the name and could only assume Cole had told him. I nodded. “He let me stay at his place, got me some new clothes, fed me…when it came time for me to meet the people who could help me find work, he took me to this motel.”

My throat seized up and I felt the tears I’d been desperately trying to hold back slide down my cheeks.

“Is he the one who hurt you?” Mace asked.

I shook my head. “Mateo only broke in the girls. It was his brother, Eduardo.”

“Fuck, Jonas, I’m so sorry,” Mace said brokenly as his forehead pressed against mine. He just kept repeating that he was sorry even as his mouth brushed mine over and over again. I wanted to ask why he was sorry but I didn’t want to risk losing the feeling of his lips ghosting over mine. But he never deepened his kisses or forced his tongue into my mouth like so many men in my past always had. And then he was pulling back from me. I managed to grab the back of his neck to prevent his backward motion.