Absolution (The Protectors 1)
“What?” I asked.
Another swallow and then he put a shaky hand on the table. “They bolted it to the floor. I thought that was something you only did on cruise ships,” he said with another unnatural laugh. “I was wondering why they left it behind but I guess they must have stripped the screws…”
His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on a spot on my neck and I knew he was likely focused on the tattoo there. Under any other circumstances, I would have used his fascination to my advantage but since I wasn’t interested in fucking a kiddie rapist, I focused on the task at hand and said, “You’re looking for help.”
My cold tone did the trick because his eyes lifted to meet mine and I saw the hesitation in them. I’d already decided that I needed to get close to the guy to get a better read on him and my attitude so far was clearly not going to get me the job. Which was why I was glad Mav had had the foresight to pull the ad the guy had posted. But even with his options limited to just me, he could just as easily tell me to take a hike and do the work himself or go the route of hiring a professional contractor. So I reached past him and grabbed the screwdriver off the table. I didn’t miss the way he tensed as our bodies nearly touched. Yep, I’d definitely freaked him out. Time to pull a Hail Mary.
Chapter Two
Jonas
The second Mace disappeared under the table, I started planning my escape because I knew what the look in his eyes meant. No, I had no clue what had put it there but hatred was hatred and I’d learned long ago that ignoring that look was tantamount to signing your own death sentence. Only this time, I wasn’t some desperate kid whose sole focus was earning enough money to ease the ache of starvation that had taken up permanent residence in his belly. I was going to tell this guy to get the hell out, but the only place I was going to do it was up at the front of the building, preferably out on the sidewalk where there was plenty of foot traffic.
“I’m going to need some other tools to work this loose,” the man said from beneath the table and as he started working his way out from underneath it, a rush of panic went through me and I started backing away from the scarred, stained table and towards the doorway that led to the main room. My eyes never left Mace as I watched his huge frame pull itself upright, the screwdriver in his hand. And in that moment I was exactly what I’d said I wasn’t – I was the same desperate, stupid kid because just like that, I was back in a darkened alley, backing away from the gleam of the knife fisted in the man’s beefy hand…
I saw Mace’s mouth move as he pointed at me but I couldn’t hear anything he said above the voices in my head – mine telling me to run and the man’s telling me not to move. By the time I made the decision to listen to my fourteen-year-old self, I was too late because the man was reaching for me and even as my back bumped into the alley wall at my back, I knew I’d waited just a moment too long to run.
Pain radiated through my shoulder as I hit the wall but when the wall gave way behind me, I instantly returned to the present and realized I’d run into the pile of old lumber that had been leaning upright in the corner of the room. I started to fall but a strong hand wrapped around my wrist and yanked me forward and even as the pile of wood crashed around me, I knew that none of it would hit me because somehow Mace had managed to put his body between the danger and me and while his body blocked mine from each impact, I heard every little grunt as piece after piece of wood struck him.
While I knew the whole thing had lasted only a couple of seconds, it took me much longer to recover and when I did, I could feel Mace’s warm breath fanning across my cheek as he asked, “You okay?”
I nodded even as I struggled to catch my breath, because not only had I not managed to escape the man, he had somehow succeeded in pinning me against the wall, his big arms caging me in. I forced my eyes up and saw his nearly black ones watching me intently. Not with hatred this time but with something else. Something I couldn’t put my finger on but that had the fear in my gut twisting into something that was no longer about the danger this man represented. A fierce surge of energy fired throughout my entire body. It was the same thing I’d felt when my eyes had spied the curl of black ink peeking from underneath the collar of his shirt and I’d wondered what it would feel like to trace the outline of the tattooed arc with my fingers.