Absolution (The Protectors 1)

But I knew now that nothing about what I was feeling was simple. I didn’t understand it but seeing them together somehow felt…right. My world felt right when I was around both of them at the same time. Even with things as fucked up as they were, I took comfort in seeing them together.

I cursed the ridiculousness of my thoughts as I stepped out of my clothes and climbed into the shower. Cole had covered the wound he’d stitched up for me with a waterproof bandage so I didn’t have to worry about not getting the stitches wet.

That was something else that had surprised me. I’d expected another confrontation this morning when Cole had come into the kitchen. But instead of railing at me or shooting questions at me as I sat sipping coffee at the kitchen table, he’d simply poured himself a cup of coffee and made pancakes from a box of mix he’d found in the pantry. We’d eaten in silence and then he’d made a batch for Jonas and disappeared upstairs. I’d made the mistake of following him so I could see for myself how Jonas was doing but then I’d heard Jonas say he didn’t want me around so I’d gone back to the kitchen, the pain of Jonas’s hatred making my insides bleed.

When Cole had come back down, he’d tossed a first aid kit down in front of me. But it wasn’t just any first aid kit when I’d opened it. There’d been an array of scissors, scalpels and needles. I’d had to assume the kit belonged to the owner of the house and while he cleaned my wound, I’d prepared the needle. The only time he’d spoken was to warn me just before he pushed the needle into my skin.

After my shower, I hunted around under the vanity, unearthing a spare toothbrush and a bottle of mouthwash. I made use of both and then crashed on the bed with the intention of just grabbing a few minutes to try and gather myself together. The plan was to go downstairs and finish this thing with Cole and Jonas, since the sooner we figured out who’d set all this up, the sooner I could fuck them up and then get the hell out, but I ended up falling asleep and didn’t wake until it was already dark outside.

I found Jonas and Cole working side by side doing dishes from whatever meal they’d prepared for dinner. They worked in silence but I could see them occasionally looking at each other.

Jonas was the first to notice me, and I was glad to see he didn’t look away from me like he had earlier this morning when he’d seen me watching him and Cole sleeping.

“Dinner’s in the microwave,” he said quietly before returning his attention to the dishes.

“Not hungry,” I murmured as I went to the table and sat down. “We need to figure out our next steps,” I said.

“The guys last night – were they yours?” Cole asked.

I shook my head.

“How do you know?”

“Because my guys wouldn’t have missed,” I said simply. “They also would have had the patience to wait until Jonas was alone to take him out.”

I immediately regretted my words when Jonas stilled in the process of putting a plate away.

“Can you trust your guys?” Cole asked as he dropped down in the chair next to me.

I hated needing to do it but I shook my head. The only thing that had kept me from pulling the trigger was some instinct…some pull Jonas had on me. I knew that most of the members of my team wouldn’t have felt the same thing. And even if they had, they certainly wouldn’t have spent weeks trying to figure it out. They would have accepted the solid evidence that had been presented to them and done their job and moved on.

“The only people I currently trust are in this room,” I admitted. “We’re on our own,” I added.

I heard the chair on the other side of the table scrape across the floor and I lifted my eyes long enough to watch Jonas sit down, a dish towel twisted between his fingers.

“The stuff in that file...is it real?” Jonas asked. “I mean, I know the arrest isn’t real but do the police really believe I did those other things? That one statement had my name in it.”

“I don’t think so,” I said as I held Jonas’s eyes. “The boys might be real victims but whoever went through the trouble of setting you up would have changed their names and added yours in place of the real suspect. But they would have risked exposing themselves if they tried altering the actual records.”

I forced myself to voice a truth I didn’t want to have to admit was a possibility. “Whoever did this could have been someone on my team,” I said. “Any one of them would have had the skill needed to alter the police reports and create those emails.”