Guarding His Heart

by R. Cayden

  He rubbed his temples, then scribbled down a few hard drives, an unnecessarily powerful microscope, and some electrochemical cells. That finished off the list, almost entirely things his father would replace as soon as he received it.

  Seb looked up again, then noticed that the arm on Declan’s blue flannel looked wet. He took in a soft breath when he realized that it was blood. “Declan,” Seb said, rising to his feet. “Your injury.”

  Declan glanced down. “Damn it,” he said, like it was a minor inconvenience. “I’ll go clean it up.”

  He turned to walk to the door, but Seb stepped forward. “I have things here,” he said quickly. “In the lab. Stay.”

  Declan nodded, and Seb gathered together some bandages, antibacterial soap, and a small white cloth. He approached Declan, the nodded at his flannel. “Off with it, then,” he said.

  Declan smiled and seemed to finally relax, at least a little. He ran his tongue across the bottom of his lip, then tugged up his shirt. His muscles were thick, tense from the day.

  With everything that had happened, the flame of desire inside Seb hadn’t grown any weaker.

  But no matter how much he wanted to throw himself at Declan and bury his face against his bodyguard’s chest, he didn’t know how to reach through the tension that was wrenching Declan’s shoulders and casting shadows in his eyes.

  “Is that a paper towel?” Seb asked, pointing at what appeared to be the previous dressing.

  “It’s what was handy,” Declan answered.

  Seb smiled, glad for the occasion to actually do something helpful. “Here,” he said, taking Declan’s arm as he sat at one of the stools. “Let me.”

  Security lights bounced off the trees outside as Seb went steadily to work cleaning Declan up. He moved slowly, tenderly. As with any job that he cared about, it felt very important to Seb that he do this right and that every little detail was handled with care.

  Declan had been injured for him, after all.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  Declan shook his head, his eyes out over the trees. “If it had been a different kind of bullet?” He whistled. “I’m lucky. This will heal up in no time.”

  Seb nodded, then wrapped a thin layer of gauze around the wounded arm. “Thank you, again.”

  Declan chuckled. “I told you, kid. You don’t have to thank me.”

  Seb smiled. “And I told you. I’m going to anyway.” He finished wrapping the wound, then laid his hand on Declan’s arm. His skin was hot to touch, and Seb felt another pang of desire, needing so much more from him than he could ever ask.

  “I should say thanks, too,” Declan said, then patted his bandage. “For this.”

  “Anytime,” Seb answered. “Although I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

  Declan nodded. He stood and pulled on his shirt, then squeezed Seb’s shoulder as he walked back to the window. Seb tried to turn back to the list, telling himself it was silly to feel rejected by Declan splitting his attention, that it only made sense for his bodyguard to focus on security at a time like that.

  There were much more urgent things going on, after all, than whatever tricks his heart was playing.

  “If you’re going to keep watching out the window, can I at least get you something? A drink? A snack?” he asked.

  Declan folded his hands behind his back again. “No. And I’m sorry if I seem distracted. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  Declan turned, frowning. “This wasn’t the same group who came for you before. It was different people, different equipment, a whole different game.”

  “Oh,” Seb said. “I guess I’m not sure what the implications of that are.”

  “Me either,” Declan answered. “But I don’t like it.”

  Seb frowned. He didn’t like it either, although neither had he particularly liked it when some random gang was trying to kidnap him.

  That moment, his eyes caught something, one of the smaller cabinets that was yanked open. He headed over toward it, and when he peered inside, he saw that one specific hard drive had been removed from the carefully organized archive. Squinting and trying to push aside the stress of the night, he turned to a couple of the other smaller cabinets, finding each one untouched until he reached the last, which was also missing a hard drive.

  “Huh,” Seb said.

  “What’s that?” Declan asked from across the room.

  “They didn’t just grab some random equipment. They took a few specific hard drives, too.”

  “Huh?” Declan asked, repeating the word with a heavier thump than Seb gave it.

  “It doesn’t make sense.” Seb rubbed at his temples while he crossed the lab. “How would they even know what to look for?”

  “You’ve got everything labeled clearly,” Declan said, nodding his head to the cabinets.

  “Of course,” Seb answered, trying not to take it as a compliment on his organizational skills. “And I’ve got plenty of backups, so it’s not like the data is lost to me forever. But taking specific hard drives makes it seem like they care about the information, not the hardware. And none of that research would make sense outside of the context of my own work.” He waved his hand in the air, trying to think of a way to explain. “It would be like stealing random pages from someone’s diary.”

  “Okay, that decides it,” Declan said, concentration tightening his brow. “We need to figure out what the fuck is actually going on here.”

  “Do you want to go see your nephew again?” Seb asked, his voice tight. He hated the idea of Declan leaving, even if the police were still around.

  “Nope,” he answered. “This time, I need to go up the ladder.”

  “Up the ladder?”

  “My boss is out in Vegas, but there’s a man I report to here, a local contact. I’ll pay him a visit in the morning. It’s time these guys stopped keeping me in the dark.”

  Seb felt a shiver of relief that Declan wasn’t leaving that evening. “Great,” he said. “I hope they can help.”

  Declan grunted his agreement. “You get that list done for the police?”

  “Just about,” Seb answered. “I’ll go over things again in the morning when I get a clear head.”

  Declan nodded quickly. “Good. Let’s see if you can get some sleep tonight. I’ll be wide awake, but that doesn’t mean you should be.”

  Seb started to protest. “You shouldn’t stay up for me. That’s not—”

  “It’s not a choice,” Declan answered. He tapped the side of his head. “I won’t be able to sleep if I try. Now come on. I’ll get Ellie.” He paused, his eyes holding Seb’s. For a breath, the shield around Declan softened, and Seb felt the glow of his warmth again. “We’ll be right there with you,” he said, “right by your side.”

  “Okay,” Seb answered, and then at last, he reached out and rested his head against Declan’s chest, the relief of that brief touch setting the world right. “Thank you, Declan.”

  Declan

  By ten the next morning, Declan was driving down the highway, cutting through the mountainside and drinking greedily from a big travel mug of coffee. He had expected to use the drive to get some thinking done, but that was before Seb had asked to come along.

  Something about those damn eyes, he just couldn’t say no.

  And Seb? He’d asked with a damn puppy dog in his arms.

  “Funny,” Declan said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “I’ve had plenty of cops following me before, just never one I was glad to see there.”

  Seb laughed, his eyes out the window. “If those people are after my research instead of me, the cop would probably be better off at home.”

  “I’m just happy your dad is the kind of guy who can pull strings to get this kind of protection.” Declan pressed down on the accelerator as they climbed a hill, the engine revving. He was still beating himself up, convinced that he would have caught the intruders earlier had he not been distracted by fooling around with Seb. At lea
st until he could get his head on straight again, the extra security was a relief.

  They chatted as they drove, Declan’s fingers tight on the steering wheel. Every time a car passed going the other direction, his eyes would dart, adding a description of the vehicle and its driver to a tally he was keeping. Having not gotten much sleep the night before, there was a dull ache behind his eyes, but he didn’t give a damn about that.

  He just wanted to know what the hell was going on.

  As they pulled off the highway and into Syracuse, Declan grunted. It dawned on him that his contact from Big Paolo probably wouldn’t want Declan driving a cop straight to his front door. Instead, he started to circle the blocks downtown until he found a quiet street near some cafes.

  “This it?” Seb asked.

  Declan glanced out the window and saw the cop car parking down the block. “We’ll go for a little walk first,” he said.

  With a nod to the police officer to let him know they’d be back, Declan took Seb across town. It felt funny to be out in public with him, even funnier with the way Seb kept glancing up, batting his eyes like some kid with a crush. Cutting through a small park, certain there was no one tracking them, Declan even let himself lay his hand on Seb’s back, guiding him forward.

  Seb softened at the touch. Declan went to light himself a smoke but remembered what Seb had admitted, about how the cigarettes bothered him, and he fought down the urge. They didn’t say much after that, which was good and fine for Declan. He was just happy to walk together.

  “Here we go,” Declan said, approaching the address.

  “Are you sure?” Seb asked. “This is a security company?

  Declan stared at the building. “I guess so,” he said. An old barbershop was on the first floor, and what looked like apartments occupied the two stories above it. The building was a bit rundown, the brick siding worn with time and the awning ragged. It wasn’t what Declan expected, either, although he wasn’t exactly surprised. The security company this man ran was supposedly legitimate, but anyone with ties to Big Paolo was crooked, through and through.

  Inside, there was only one man getting his hair cut, but a couple of guys sat behind the counter with a small television on between them. No one looked up when Declan and Seb stepped through the door, and when Seb tensed, Declan rested his hand lightly on his back again, the impulse hitting him so quickly he didn’t even think about it.

  “Something I can help you with?” one of the men at the counter asked, his voice slow and deep.

  “I have an appointment,” Declan answered, working his jaw in a circle to show he wasn’t intimidated. “A man named Reed.”

  The man at the counter nodded. “Through the back.”

  Declan walked Seb over, doubly relieved that he hadn’t brought the damn cop with him. The door in the back of the barbershop led to a staircase, which he started straight up, stomping his heavy boots on the way.

  “Should I follow?” Seb asked, hesitant.

  “Come on,” Declan answered. “Maybe they’ll have some good magazines in the waiting room.”

  Seb laughed, and Declan smiled that the joke had landed. He knew places like that could look so damn intimidating, but he also knew that nowhere particularly dangerous would have a sign advertising half-off cuts for kids on Tuesdays.

  Upstairs, the heavy door opened straight into an office, the kind of place you would go to get your taxes done. A receptionist was sitting behind an old squat desk, reading a novel over a stack of papers, and when she looked up, she snapped the gum in her mouth. “Good morning,” she greeted them dryly.

  “Name’s Declan. I called this morning—”

  “Of course,” she interrupted. “You know, not that many people call Mr. Reed demanding an appointment.”

  Declan grimaced. “I had good reason.”

  “Don’t we all, don’t we all,” the receptionist said. She coughed roughly, then pushed a buzzer on her desk. “The bodyguard is here,” she announced into the static, then released the button as her eyes landed on Seb. “Didn’t expect you to bring a friend.”

  “It’s fine,” Seb said quickly, straightening his back. “I’ll just wait here.” He gestured to an old leather chair, sitting beneath a painting of a ship.

  The woman had already turned back to her novel when the door swung open, and Declan let himself inside. The room was dimly lit, with blinds covering the window and old wallpaper, checkered with dark purples and reds. Declan’s handler was sitting behind his own desk, his hands folded in front of him. He was about ten years Declan’s senior, but Declan could tell that, beneath his bulk, the man was still all muscle.

  “Mr. Reed. Glad to finally meet you in person.”

  He grunted, then gestured to the empty chairs. “What’s so urgent, Declan?”

  Declan took the seat, then leaned forward, holding his boss’s eye. “Are you telling me you didn’t hear?”

  The man laughed, a creaking, grating sound that made Declan want to shove cotton in his ears. “I suppose I did hear a thing or two. And what do you want me to do about it?”

  Something inside Declan tensed. He felt a sharp need for a cigarette. “What do I want you to do about it?” he repeated the question. “I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on. I signed up to fight some lowlife local gang, not to face down three trained killers.”

  He said it a hell of a lot sharper than he intended, considering the debt he owed to Big Paolo. But irritation was scratching at Declan, and he was sick and fucking tired of being left in the dark by men who thought their shit didn’t stink.

  Reed held his hand in the air. He frowned, his fat lips turning down as he wavered his hand, back and forth. “Street gang,” he said. “Killers. I don’t know anything about this.”

  Instead of yelling or pounding down on the desk with both fists, Declan squeezed his hands as tight as he could. Storming out wouldn’t do any good, and there was more than one way to get info out of a man like Reed.

  “Sure,” Declan said. “And I don’t know anything about what they were trying to steal.”

  Reed didn’t say anything for a moment, then nodded. The way he narrowed his eyes, it seemed like Declan had poked in the right hole.

  Now he just needed the weasel to stick his head out.

  “Of course,” Reed said, “the threat was to kidnap our client and hold him for ransom. I trust you still remember that it’s your job to keep him safe?”

  Declan chuckled. If only Reed knew how much that job now mattered to Declan. “Trust me. I won’t forget my fucking job.”

  “Then are you trying to suggest something, Declan? Insinuate an accusation?” The man clicked his tongue. “Big Paolo didn’t tell me you were nosy.”

  “Big Paolo doesn’t say a lot of things,” Declan answered. But it was clear that his fishing wouldn’t get anywhere, at least not that afternoon. Reed was a stone wall, and he definitely knew how to keep his secrets. Gritting his teeth, Declan decided to try the direct route one more time. “Listen, I almost had my head blown off last night, got it? And if I get my head blown off, I can’t do my damn job. I just need you to level and tell me what we’re looking at. How much worse is this thing going to get?”

  Reed creaked his chair back, then pressed a button on his desk, buzzing the front. “My receptionist will see you out,” he said, his voice icy and the conversation clearly finished. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything.”

  Frustration crashed down on Declan, but he knew he was in no spot to fight back. He hated feeling powerless, more than just about any other damn thing in the world, and Reed was leaving him on the ground like a fucking cockroach. With a quick nod of his head, he pushed back out into the lobby, cursing his own failure under his breath. “Have a good day,” he said to the receptionist with a nod, then gestured for Seb to follow along.

  “You find anything out?” Seb asked as they headed down the stairs.

  “Nothing useful,” Declan answered. A pang hit his gut. He hated telli
ng Seb that he had failed. Like Reed had told him, he had one damn job, and if he was still in the dark, he wasn’t so sure he could do it.

  Seb paused by the door and rested his hand on the wall. With the hood on his jacket hanging down, his hair was mussed, and he looked shy.

  “What?” Declan asked.

  Seb shoved his hand in his pocket, then pulled out his cell phone. “I got something,” he said, waving it in the air. “I noticed that the wifi network in there wasn’t very well secured, and I started poking around and kind of grabbed some stuff.”

  “What?” Declan growled the word under his breath, then pushed Seb’s hand with the phone down. “You did what?” he asked under his breath.

  “I just thought, well, you didn’t seem to trust them,” Seb whispered back. “And I was just sitting there anyway, so…”

  Declan grimaced. He didn’t like Seb taking any sort of risk, but he couldn’t lie—he was impressed too, and more than a little eager to find out what was on the drive.

  “Come on,” he said, ready to hurry Seb out of the building. “Let’s get you home.”

  Sebastian

  Once Declan and Seb got back to the house, Seb didn’t waste any time pulling open all the files on his desktop. He’d only had a few minutes to poke around the office computers once he got into the network, but he’d grabbed a healthy amount of information.

  “Making any progress?” Declan asked, stepping in from the back porch with Ellie at his feet.

  Seb sighed, then pushed his laptop to the side. A half-eaten sandwich and a cold cup of coffee sat next to him at the counter, and as he blinked his tired eyes, he realized he had totally lost track of time. Darkness had fallen, although the extra security lights his father installed cast a glow across the yard.

  “A little,” he said. “I’ve been combing through the emails to see if there’s anything relevant, but most of the interesting files are encrypted.”

  “What does that mean?” Declan asked as he hung his jacket.