Defiance (The Protectors 9)

“Asshole,” I said, even as I smiled. Never in a million years would I have guessed the man had a sense of humor. We fell silent as we made our way closer to the pond. But it didn’t last.

“So are you going to tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?”

“Oh, I don’t know…how it is that you know the president of the fucking United States.”

“Little starstruck, were you?” I asked.

“Yes, and don’t deflect.”

“I met him about a couple years before his term ended. But I can’t tell you the how and the why.” When Nathan opened his mouth to object, I added, “It’s not my story to tell.”

“Fine…then tell me why you need to live in Fort Knox,” he said.

“Fort Knox might as well be made of toothpicks compared to this place,” I said.

Nathan’s voice softened as he said, “And you don’t see anything wrong with that?” I glanced at him and couldn’t help but think how beautiful he looked. At some point after Everett had arrived, Nathan had snuck up to his room to swap out his T-shirt for a white button-down shirt. He’d rolled up the sleeves to expose muscled forearms with just a smattering of blond hair on them.

“I’m not some paranoid Y2K fanatic, Nathan. I live like this out of necessity, not because I want to.”

“Is that what you’re doing, Vincent? Living?”

We’d reached the pond, but Nathan was looking at me instead of the water. His eyes were far too perceptive and I found myself looking away so he wouldn’t see things he shouldn’t.

“Just drop it,” I murmured.

“Look, Vincent, I don’t pretend to understand, but-”

“You’re right, you don’t understand,” I bit out. “And frankly, it’s none of your business.”

“Vincent-”

“Just shut the fuck up, Nathan!” I snapped. The pain in my belly had grown to epic proportions, and I quickly downed the rest of my drink in the hopes it would stem the sensation. But it did nothing to quell the rage and agony that began to consume me. I’d had years to deal with it, but the wounds were as fresh today as they’d been that night.

I was dimly aware of pain in my right hand, but it wasn’t until I heard Nathan say, “Fuck, Vincent,” that I realized I’d gripped the glass in my hand so hard that it had broken. “Are you hurt?” Nathan immediately asked as he put his own glass down in the grass and reached for my fisted hand.

“It’s fine,” I said. There was a small cut on my palm, but it could barely be called a scratch.

“No, it’s not. It’s bleeding,” he said, and then he was lifting the bottom of his shirt and pressing the hem against my hand, turning the bright white fabric dark red. “We should go back to the house.”

My eyes fell on his hand which he’d bandaged again at some point. “We match,” I said absently. It was a stupid thing to say, but I was finding that between the beers I’d had during dinner and the whiskey, my tongue was a little looser than normal.

“Yeah, I guess we do,” he said as he grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me forward. With the amount he’d touched me in the last twenty-four hours, I had to wonder if he was just a touch-feely kind of guy or if there was something more going on.

I wanted it to be the latter.

Badly.

But I knew I shouldn’t want that.

It was like wishing that night twelve years ago had never happened or that I hadn’t lost David.

I couldn’t undo either of those things, and I couldn’t have this man even just for a night.

Nathan continued to try and tug me forward, presumably to get me to the house, but I resisted, and when he finally realized I wasn’t moving anytime soon, he looked up at me with questioning eyes. I wished it were lighter out so I could see the unique mix of gold and brown in them.

“Vincent,” he whispered. “Talk to me.”

It figured he’d see it in my eyes…the need to give him something of myself. A part that no one else had.

“They killed my brother,” I finally said.

“Pierce?”

When I nodded, Nathan asked, “Who?”

“Guys who came looking for me. Pierce was staying at my house because he’d just finished his last tour and was leaving the army. I wasn’t home. They tortured him and then they slit his throat. Because he refused to give them what they wanted.”

“What…what did they want?”

I dropped my eyes because Nathan had started rubbing little circles into my wrist with his thumb.

“They wanted him to tell me to come home. They used his phone to call me and tried to force him to tell me there was an emergency at the house. He warned me instead. Shouted at me not to come home. The call cut off right after that and by the time I got home, he was dead. Tied to a chair, covered in blood and bruises. They broke his fingers one by one, cut him, burned him.” As Nathan’s expression grew more and more horrified, I stopped talking and pulled my hand free of his. “You want to know why I live like this?” I said as I motioned to the house. “Because I don’t have a fucking choice. Because even though I got vengeance for my brother, there are a dozen more guys waiting in the wings to get their shot at me.”