“Just after nine.”
A glance at the single small window in the room told Ren it was morning instead of evening so that meant he’d actually slept through the night. He couldn’t even recall the last time that had happened. “Where’s my gun?” he asked as the familiar tingle began to make his skin itch. He didn’t wait for Jagger to answer as he went to the nightstand and began rifling through it.
“It’s not there,” Jagger said from behind him.
“Where is it? I need it,” Ren said quickly as he hurried to the dresser.
“It’s gone. You’re safe now – you don’t need it.” The pity in Jagger’s voice grated on his nerves.
“What do you mean it’s gone?” Ren snapped as he whirled on Jagger. But Jagger didn’t answer him and Ren tore out of the room and rushed to the kitchen and began searching all the drawers and cabinets.
“Ren, I swear to you, you’re safe.”
“Don’t you get it? I’ll never be safe!” Ren shouted. “They said they’d come after me! They’re going to find me…my brothers!”
“It was part of the act, Ren. They were trying to get in your head.”
Ren shook his head. Believing that was too big of a risk. “I want my fucking gun!” he yelled. But Jagger just looked at him sadly.
“Fuck!” Ren screamed and he yanked the drawer he was in the process of opening off its rollers and threw it to the floor. He scanned the contents before doing the same to the next drawer. His breath was coming in heavy pants as he kneeled down and searched through the mess.
“The knives are gone too,” Jagger said softly.
Ren rose and viciously kicked at the debris. He had been searching for a knife. Even the dullest butcher knife could still be deadly if wielded correctly and he would have been able to take at least two or three guys out before they got their hands on him again. He pushed past Jagger and headed for the front door.
“Your car’s been disabled.”
What the fuck? Ren froze in the process of reaching for the doorknob. “No,” he heard himself whisper. Denial went through him at the realization that if what Jagger said was true, he was stuck here with no way out…no way to defend himself. He hurried out the door and rushed to his car. The GTO was exactly where he’d left it. He had no idea where the keys were but he could hotwire it if worse came to worse. He lifted the hood of the car and felt the panic rush through him as he searched the engine he’d painstakingly restored himself. Sure enough, the ignition and fuel pump fuses were both missing. He desperately looked around and his eyes lit up at the sight of the car sitting behind his.
“It’s disabled too and Declan took the fuses with him,” Jagger said from somewhere behind him.
At that point Ren lost it and he flew at the other man. But as before, Jagger anticipated his moves and quickly overpowered him.
“If you’ve got enough energy to keep taking swings at me, you’ve got enough energy to take a little walk. You can see for yourself that it’s just us out here,” Jagger said.
Strong fingers closed around his arm and started dragging him towards the woods that surrounded the cabin.
***
Jagger felt a surge of pity go through him as Ren’s eyes darted all around them. The man had only fought him for a few moments when Jagger had forced him onto a narrow hiking trail north of the cabin. Between the heavy plant growth that covered the path and the moderate incline, Ren was breathing hard within minutes. The additional anxiety of expecting someone to jump them at any moment had Ren’s hands clenched in perpetual fists and he flinched every time he or Jagger stepped on a branch. With each minute that passed and Ren’s anxiety failed to ease, doubt coursed through Jagger. What if he’d misjudged what he and Declan could do for this man?
The idea of condemning Ren to a future in a mental health facility that would dope him with drugs to keep him out of trouble went against everything Jagger believed in; he’d seen far too many good men get lost in the system that was supposedly designed to care for their specific needs. But could he and Declan really help ease Ren’s pain long enough that the young man could decide for himself to seek treatment? Last night he’d been so sure they could but seeing Ren’s despair as he’d realized he had no weapon or means of escape had ripped something open inside of Jagger.
“How about we take a break?” Jagger said softly when he saw the sweat forming on Ren’s flushed skin.
Ren didn’t answer him and he wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t heard him or he’d chosen to ignore him. It didn’t really matter since Ren made the decision to stop less than ten minutes later. He sank down onto a fallen log, his breath coming in shallow pants as he ran his palms back and forth over his thighs. Jagger carefully lowered himself down next to Ren and considered it a small victory when the other man didn’t move away from him.
“Why are you doing this?” Ren asked though his eyes continued to scan the area surrounding them.
Jagger remained silent as he considered his words carefully. “Believe it or not, I know a little bit of what you’re going through,” he finally said. When Ren remained silent, Jagger continued. “I tried to keep count of the number of men I killed when I was first deployed. Tried to remember their faces too. I guess I wanted to make sure I never got too comfortable doing it.”
“Did you?” Ren asked.
“Get comfortable?”
“Keep count?” Ren clarified.
“I lost track after a while. I still see some of the faces though. Especially the innocents.”
Ren shifted slightly and Jagger had to force himself to ignore the feel of Ren’s thigh brushing against his.
“First guy I killed was using a little boy as a shield,” Ren said quietly. “My aim was good but the guy jerked as he fell and his gun went off. Kid was gone before I could even get to him.”
As disheartening as their conversation was, Jagger was glad to see that Ren’s eyes had dropped to study his hands instead of the woods around them.
“I don’t think anyone ever gets comfortable with it,” Ren said. “Whether you kill one or a hundred.”
Jagger was surprised when Ren looked up at him. “Why are you doing this?” he asked again. The bright blue eyes that were shrouded with pain had Jagger reaching out to stroke his fingers over Ren’s face. Luckily he caught himself at the last moment and ran his fingers over his own head instead.
“Because I want you to be able to go home someday.”
Ren nodded. “I understand,” he whispered. Jagger didn’t like the tone he’d used to say it though. He sounded almost…disappointed. But that didn’t make any sense.
“What is it that you understand exactly?” Jagger asked.
Ren’s eyes stared straight ahead. “My brothers hired you to find me over there,” he said. “You’re just doing your job.”
This time Jagger did reach for Ren and the feel of the man’s early morning stubble felt amazing against Jagger’s fingers as he closed them around Ren’s chin and forced Ren to look at him.
“My ‘job’ ended the second you stepped onto American soil. I’m here because I know what a good man you are,” Jagger said. “Vin has been telling stories about you since the day he asked me to join the team to bring you home. You may not know me from Adam but I sure as hell feel like I know you. I want you to have a shot at a life…a real life. I don’t care if it’s the one you had before all this shit went down or a new one you create for yourself. As long as it’s your choice.”
Ren’s gaze softened and Jagger wondered what it would feel like to lift his thumb just enough so that he could drag it over the full, soft lips. Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with him? Not only was this guy straight, he was incredibly vulnerable and only a complete scumbag would be lusting after him right now.
Jagger forced himself to release his hold on Ren and dropped his hand. “You ready to head back?” he asked.
Ren considered it for a moment and no one was more surprised than Jagger when he said, “Let’s go
a little bit farther.”
***
Why the hell wouldn’t his skin quit tingling? Ren’s hand traveled to his chin and smoothed over where Jagger had touched him, half expecting to find some evidence there that would explain the sensation that he’d felt when those thick fingers had held his face. And Jagger’s words…he sure as hell didn’t mince them because Ren had believed everything he’d said. The brief – and strange – disappointment that had come over Ren when he’d realized he was just a job to Jagger had disappeared when the bigger man had looked down at him with open honesty and explained what he wanted for Ren. Ren knew that the future Jagger envisioned for him wasn’t a realistic one, but God it had felt good to have someone want that for him.
“Declan’s back,” he heard Jagger say and Ren nearly stumbled to a halt when he realized that not only had they completed a half circle and started heading back to the cabin, but that he hadn’t once searched the woods around him for shadows or focused on every snapping twig. Not since Jagger had touched him…
***
Declan was in the process of grabbing a couple of shopping bags from the trunk of his car when his eyes fell on Jagger and Declan as they exited the woods. His eyes instantly scanned Ren for any sign of distress and although he looked tense and uncomfortable, it was a thousand times better than how he’d looked last night. And Jagger…well, Jagger looked like he always did – big, overbearing, arrogant…and fucking hot. Declan cursed as the dreaded image of the two men surrounding him filtered once more through his mind like it had when Zane had been fucking him. Jesus, had that only been yesterday?
“Hey,” Jagger said as he came over to the car and automatically began pulling bags from it. They’d come to a truce of sorts last night since they’d agreed that calling Ren’s brothers wasn’t an option at the moment and that together they might be able to get Ren to a place where he felt secure enough to make some reasonable decisions. But they’d both been too drained to work out the details and this morning they’d agreed that it would make sense for Declan to be the one to get some food and supplies since he knew the area and for Jagger to stay behind. In truth, Declan had felt uncomfortable at leaving Ren with a virtual stranger but it wasn’t like he’d had a lot of choice in the matter. It had been Jagger’s idea to disable the vehicles and remove any potential weapons from the cabin – an insight that Declan hadn’t even considered beyond getting rid of the gun.
“How’d it go?” Declan asked as his eyes settled on Ren who was staring at his GTO.
“A little rough,” Jagger said quietly. “I’ll explain later.”
Declan was wondering what ‘a little rough’ meant but he had his answer a minute later when he followed Ren and Jagger into the cabin. The kitchen was in a shambles and the way Ren had been staring at his car suddenly made sense.
“I’m going to go take a shower,” Ren said quietly.
“Here, I got you some fresh clothes,” Declan said as he handed Ren a couple of bags. “They might be a little big,” he said.
Ren’s eyes connected with his as he took the bags and that familiar ache settled in Declan’s gut.
“Thanks,” Ren mumbled as he turned and disappeared into his room.
“Still think this was the best way to go?” Declan muttered as he stepped over the mess and opened the refrigerator.
“What I think is that you started all this,” Jagger snapped.
“Right,” Declan said. “And you get to be the big hero and save the day.”
“Your words,” Jagger quipped.
“God, you’re a piece of work,” Declan said as he began jamming the items from the grocery bag into the refrigerator.
“At least my plan didn’t involve arming a guy with severe PTSD and setting him loose on innocent people. For a cop-”
“What the fuck is your problem with cops?” Declan shouted as he slammed the refrigerator door closed. “Or are you just too stupid to come up with any other digs?”
Jagger’s eyes hardened but Declan was surprised when he turned and left the cabin instead of railing back at him. And then he remembered Jagger’s admission about being dyslexic on the day he’d interrogated him.
“Fuck,” he muttered and he quickly hurried after the other man. He didn’t have to go far because Jagger had stopped on the small porch.
“Jagger,” he began but all the wind got knocked out of him when Jagger grabbed him and slammed him up against one of the porch columns.
“Does it make you feel like a big man to look down on me, Detective?” Jagger snarled. Jagger’s fingers bit into his upper arms and Declan didn’t miss the sight of the blood on Jagger’s knuckles. A quick glance at the opposite column showed a smear of blood where Jagger had likely slammed his fist against the unforgiving wood.
“No-” Declan tried to say but Jagger cut him off.
“Go on, give me your worst, asshole. I’ve heard them all!” When Declan remained quiet, Jagger seemed to become more enraged. “No? Nothing? How about retard or idiot or shit for brains? Oh wait, that’s not the only part of me you have a problem with, is it?” Jagger bit out. “You think I’m a thug too. A criminal. A loser.”
Sadness went through Declan as Jagger continued to spit out slur after slur. He wished he could ask who’d flung such merciless, hateful words at this man at some point in his life but Jagger was too angry for Declan to even get a word in. His face was practically in Declan’s and venom dripped from his voice as he continued his tirade. But his next words had Declan’s blood running cold because they were all too familiar and the pain he felt in Jagger was his own.
“Pansy-ass queer, fagg-”
All thought and reason left Declan’s head as his need to undo the harm he’d unwittingly caused took over and he slashed his mouth over Jagger’s just in time to prevent that ugly last word from fully leaving his lips.
***
Jagger’s rant died the second Declan’s mouth closed over his and it took him several long moments to even process what was happening. His reaction to Declan calling him stupid had been unexpected and over the top, even for him, and he’d escaped outside to try to understand why a word that he’d heard so often in his life and that shouldn’t have had an impact on him anymore, had instead left him reeling with pain. He’d spent most of his life learning to be immune to the cruel taunts about his intelligence so Declan’s attack shouldn’t have even registered. But it had, and the feeling of weakness that had come with it had brought Jagger’s infamous temper to the surface and he’d lashed out at the porch column. But the biting pain in his hand had done nothing to ease the humiliation that was coursing through him and when Declan had followed him outside, Jagger’s only thought was that he needed to go on the offensive. He needed to show Declan that he had no power over him.
But that argument was shot to hell and all his anger disappeared as Declan’s tongue slipped between his lips and stroked over every surface of his mouth. The kiss was rough and desperate and fucking perfect and Jagger couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped him as Declan’s tongue licked his. At some point he must have released Declan’s arms because he found himself being turned around so that it was his back pressed up against the column. The hard cock brushing against his caused a burning deep in his abdomen as lust consumed him and he reached his hands down to grab Declan’s ass so that he could grind their hips together.
Fingers wrapped around the back of his neck to hold him still while he was tortured with kiss after kiss, each one deeper and needier than the last. But just as quickly as it had begun, it was over and Declan was pushing away from him, a look of horror passing through his gaze as his eyes met Jagger’s. It was definitely a ‘What the fuck have I done’ look and Jagger didn’t try to stop him when he quickly turned and went back into the cabin. God knew he needed a few minutes to figure out what the hell had just happened himself.
***
No, No, No, No.
What the hell had he just done? Disbelief went through Declan as he reach
ed out an arm to support himself against the kitchen counter. Had he really just fucking outed himself to a man he couldn’t stand…who couldn’t stand him?
Before he could stop himself, Declan ran his tongue along his lips and he shuddered at how sensitive they were. Jagger had tasted so much sweeter than he ever would have expected. And for someone so hard and unbending, Jagger had opened to him so beautifully…so willingly. The heat of his skin had burned Declan wherever he touched it and that slick tongue had returned every one of Declan’s seeking strokes. And their cocks…they’d found each other long before Jagger’s powerful hands had closed over Declan’s ass.
“Fuck,” Declan whispered and when he heard the front door open a tremor of fear went through him. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He quickly reached down and began cleaning up the mess on the floor.
“Declan…” he heard Jagger say softly.
“Want to give me a hand here?” Declan snapped. He hoped to God that his tone made it clear he wasn’t interested in discussion.
Jagger didn’t answer but Declan’s traitorous body could sense the bigger man just behind him. It would be so easy to turn around and pick up where they’d left off. Declan jammed one of the drawers back into place.
“Did you tell Ren what the plan was?” Declan asked.
“No, he didn’t,” Declan heard Ren say and he glanced up to see him standing in the doorway. His short hair was still slightly damp and the new jeans and T-shirt he was wearing hung loosely on his gaunt body. Declan had guessed correctly that the clothes would be too big but he’d deliberately chosen a larger size in the hopes that Ren would put enough weight on in the next few weeks to fill them out normally. Declan glanced at Jagger who was uncharacteristically silent.
“Why don’t we go sit down?” Declan suggested as he motioned to the living room.
Ren remained silent but he moved to the other room and Declan forced himself to ignore the heat of Jagger’s body as he brushed past him. His eyes found Ren standing near the fireplace, his arms hanging at his sides. But his hands were clenched and his features were drawn tight. It wasn’t a good sign.
Saving Ren (Barretti Security Series, Book 3) Page 5
