Salvation (The Protectors 2)

Harry finally seemed to catch on to my distress and he stood. “I thought you knew,” he whispered. “I tried meeting with Trace about his half of the inheritance before he left the States after Seth got out of the hospital, but he kept putting me off. If he intended to leave the money to you, he never mentioned it. But Seth…Seth was adamant that the money should go to you.”

I didn’t think I even managed to say goodbye to Harry because I heard him call my name a couple times as I walked down the hallway towards the exit. I ended up sitting in my car trying to absorb the turn of events and when I finally got myself together long enough to pull out my phone, I saw it was almost two o’clock. I checked the app and saw that Seth was on the move and I realized from the location of his car that he was probably on his way home since he was nearing the ferry dock in Mukilteo.

Even with the early hour, traffic in downtown Seattle was starting to build so I focused on the road until I got out of the city and then let my mind start to wander. Somehow when it had been Trace’s money I’d used to set up my organization, I’d felt like it was the universe’s way of telling me I’d made the right choice to give up medicine and focus on bringing justice to men and women who had no qualms about taking innocent lives. But knowing that Seth had deliberately chosen to give me the money made me want to throw up.

He knew you’d do good with it.

Harry’s words rang in my ears. I had done good with it but only in my eyes, not Seth’s. What would Seth think if he found out I’d used the money to kill people or to set them up so they could be convicted of crimes the law couldn’t otherwise prove they’d committed? What would he think if he learned that every bullet I’d fired into a man’s brain was paid for by his money? Trace wouldn’t have cared because he understood what the real world was like. He understood that doing what was right sometimes meant using methods most people deemed wrong…like Seth would. Because Seth was gentle and sweet and kind and utterly innocent. He hadn’t seen the shit I’d seen. He hadn’t felt it or touched it or tasted it…that evil that consumed every cell, every fiber of your being until you had no choice but to change to accommodate it, to accept it, to find a way to live with it.

Except that Seth had seen it. He’d seen and felt more than I’d realized and it had left its mark on him. I doubted it had changed the core of who he was but the reality was, it had changed him. And worse, the people who were supposed to bring him back to who he was, who he’d always been – Trace, me – we’d failed him and that had changed him too.

I’d come here to keep my promise to Trace to make sure Seth was safe, but I’d broken that promise every time I’d lied to Seth about his brother’s death and about my role in it. Every time I’d asked Seth how he was doing but never really heard his answer, I may as well have been spitting on Trace’s lifeless body. And when I’d walked away from Seth because of one innocent kiss, I’d flung my promise back in my dead lover’s face. Because nothing I’d done had been about protecting Seth. It had been about assuaging my own guilt. It had been about protecting me.

By the time I reached the ferry dock, I knew I needed to make a choice. A very simple choice. I could try fixing what I’d broken or I could walk away for good this time. No watching Seth from afar, no tracking him, no using the endless resources at my disposal to make sure he was okay. A clean break. Or I had to find a way to be around Seth, to give him what he needed without taking what I wanted. Because now, more than ever, I knew he deserved better than me.

It wasn’t until a car behind me honked that I realized the traffic in front of me had started moving onto the ferry. I needed to make a decision and I needed to make it fast.

Chapter Six

Seth

Ronan was gone.

It was ridiculous to be so disappointed about losing something I’d wanted so badly, but I wasn’t going to delude myself into believing a little piece of my heart hadn’t broken off and disintegrated. Okay, a big piece.

I hadn’t realized Ronan hadn’t left last night until I’d stepped out of the house in the early morning darkness so I could catch the first ferry leaving the Clinton terminal. I’d been both relieved and upset to see his car sitting just behind mine in the driveway, and those same emotions had hounded me all day up until I’d pulled through the iron gate at the end of driveway and waited for the house to come into view. Then it had just been a stark feeling of disappointment as I’d stared at the empty spot where Ronan’s car had been.