Shattered (The Protectors 11)

“We’re going to talk. About what happened this morning and yesterday. And this...”

Before I could stop him, he closed his hand around my forearm. Even though I managed not to wince at the contact, it didn’t matter, because I knew Jace could feel the unevenness beneath the fabric.

“Jace, don’t,” I said when he reached for the end of my sleeve.

He ignored me, of course.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at him as he carefully pushed my sleeve up.

But it didn’t matter because I heard his reaction. I wanted to laugh out loud because a couple of minutes ago I would have killed to get some kind of response out of him. Now I just wanted to sink into the floor.

I forced my eyes open and watched Jace work his hair tie and the swatch of fabric free. He shook his head when his gaze fell on the three cuts that were still seeping blood. He rested his hand and mine in his lap as he closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jace,” slipped out before I could stop myself. I had no idea why I was apologizing, because I didn’t owe him anything. I hadn’t since he’d turned his back on me.

Liar.

I ignored the inner voice and turned to look out one of the little circular windows. I kept my eyes averted even as I felt Jace begin cleaning the cuts with an antiseptic wipe. I flinched as pain stung my arm at the contact. Despite sometimes craving pain, I had no interest in it if I couldn’t control it.

And right now, I felt like there was absolutely nothing in my control anymore.

I was sure it was over when Jace put a large, square Band-Aid over the cuts, but he didn’t release my wrist. Instead, he took his free hand and cupped the back of my neck with it. I waited for him to tell me to look at him, or to ask me why I’d done what I’d done, but he didn’t do any of that.

Instead, he pulled me forward and then pressed his forehead against mine. I was stunned to hear his voice break when he whispered, “Caleb.” He paused and sucked in a breath. “Please, please don’t do this anymore. I’m fucking begging you.”

I closed my eyes and felt a tear trying to escape my clenched lids. I failed to hold it back.

“I’ll try,” I lied, because I couldn’t stand the hitch I’d heard in his voice as he’d whispered the plea.

How in the world had I ever thought he didn’t feel?

He didn’t respond to my words and I wondered if it was because he knew what he was asking was impossible.

We sat like that for a few more precious seconds before Jace released me and stood. “I need to go check things out,” he muttered, then he was gone.

I took my time cleaning up the stuff from the first aid kit and returned it to the kitchen. When I was done, I went back to the bedroom instead of going above deck. I grabbed the blanket Jace had put around my shoulders and covered myself with it as I laid down on the bed.

My exhaustion didn’t make any damned sense, but hell if I didn’t welcome the shit out of it.

Chapter 5

Jace

“You bedding down for the night?” Dalton asked.

“Yeah, we’re by Poole’s Island,” I said. I was using the burner phone Dalton had purchased for me after I’d called him from a payphone earlier in the day to let him know what supplies I’d need. He’d bought one for himself too, so there’d be no chance of anyone tracing the calls. The fact that no one, not even Ronan, knew about my friendship with Dalton made me comfortable enough to keep the lines of communication open with him. It would come in handy in more ways than one.

But as helpful as the phone was to have, it didn’t have the best reception and I wasn’t about to waste my time trying to search out anything on the internet about the attack this morning.

“You find anything?” I asked.

“I found mention of a cabin burning in the local paper, but it didn’t make the wire yet. Either your guys didn’t stash the bodies in the cabin or some idiot at the fire department’s not doing their job.”

“My guys probably made sure there wasn’t much left to discover. They are good at their jobs,” I said.

Dalton snorted, then said, “No news about the shooting either. Really like to know how you pulled that off.”

“Can’t take credit for that one,” I said. I hadn’t told Dalton the full details of the Jennings encounter, other than I’d been involved in a shooting at the man’s house and to let me know if my name or Caleb’s came up at any point. It was driving me crazy to still have no idea how Caleb had known Jennings wouldn’t give his name to the cops. My gut was telling me it was bad, whatever it was. It was the only explanation as to why Jennings wouldn’t want the cops finding Caleb.