A Mended Man (The Men of Halfway House Book 4) (59 page)

Aidan grimaced in confusion.

He resumed his pacing. "I searched the streets for years looking for him. He's…special. No one is exactly like him." He turned sharply toward Aidan. "Imagine my surprise when I see his photo in an online news report about a big drug ring arrest." Michael laughed, a low rumble that pierced Aidan's body and twisted his gut. "I guess I have you to thank for that—you and the state attorney's office for giving me his name and where he worked. It was relatively easy to find him after that." He switched the prod from one hand to another, looking at Aidan.

"Where's Jessie?" Aidan asked.

"He'll come around and realize he made a mistake leaving me."

"Where's. Jessie?"

Michael cocked his head. "We have plans for him, but he's having a difficult time focusing while you're still in the picture."

We?
Aidan blinked, pushing his mind to process a little more quickly. Jessie was still alive. That was all that mattered. He fisted his hands and pulled at his wrists, causing his body to slightly swing back and forth.

"Ropes are tight. You're not getting out that easily." Michael closely observed him as he slowly strode from left to right and back again.

Aidan focused on each slow step the asshole took around him. He couldn't stop the grin that tugged at his lips when he noticed the bandage wrapped around Michael's bicep. "Did Jessie do that to you?"

Michael looked over at his own arm, indifferent to the bandage with the small stain of blood. "When we picked you two up. He…surprised me. I never expected he'd use a gun. He's more…resistant." He paused for a moment and pointed to the scar on his face. "There are several issues I'll need to address."

"Where. Is. He?"

Michael sighed. He extended his arm and jammed the prod against Aidan's torso again, sending another jolt of current through Aidan's body.

Aidan clenched his teeth, trying to hold back the yell as his body arched and his toes curled. Michael withdrew the prod again and Aidan's body instantly fell limp, the rope cutting more into his wrists as part of the soles of his feet now rested on the ground. He turned his head and peered through the sweat-slicked hair hanging over his eyes. "You better pray you kill me," he said gruffly.

Michael laughed. "I don't think you're in
any
position to issue threats."

"I'm going to kill you slow, you son of a bitch," he said, each exhale hissing through his teeth as his heart slammed against his chest.

"Assuming I don't kill you first." Michael reached out again with the prod.

Aidan fisted the rope in his hands and swung his legs forward, kicking the prod out of Michael's grasp.

Michael lunged forward with a roar, stopping when Aidan wrapped his legs around his neck, holding him in a neck-lock between his thighs. Aidan channeled his fury and tightened his legs, possessed by rage at the thought that this monster had held Jessie prisoner all those years ago and might have hurt him now. He squeezed and twisted his thighs together, jerking his legs tight until the body in his hold went slack. He released Michael, letting his body drop to the ground.

Aidan's focus snapped upward, assessing the rope and hook holding him in place. He took a few deep breaths, centering himself, trying to channel his strength. He looked over at Michael's body slumped on the ground. He didn't have much time. He held his legs together and pushed off the floor, grunting when the pain at his side sent a numbing jolt through his muscles. "Fuck."

He closed his eyes and focused. Jessie needed him. Period. Nothing else mattered at that moment.

He opened his eyes with renewed strength. He took a few deep breaths then pushed off again, gripping the rope and folding his body upward, wrapping his bare feet around the wood beam supporting the hook. He pulled himself higher, gaining enough slack to finally release himself from the metal hook. He hung upside down from the beam for a second before nimbly dropping to the ground on his feet in a cat-like move. He flinched at the jab of pain but slammed that thought behind a mental door and focused on the next step.

Aidan looked around for something to cut the rope and spotted a few discarded tools at the side of a worn wooden table. He grabbed the rusting coping saw from the stack and held the handle between his thighs. He ran the rope back and forth on the serrated edge, finally seeing a slight tear in the threads begin to spread.

The rip grew until it was finally halfway when an arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him back with force, swinging his body to the side and down onto the ground. He immediately rolled and righted himself, holding his bound hands in front of him, staring down Michael who mirrored his pose.

Michael inched to the side when Aidan shifted toward him, circling each other in an odd dance, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Aidan maintained his focus squarely on his opponent while twisting, turning, and pulling at the rope binding his hands, increasing the frayed edge with each shift.

"Here's a tip. When you knock me down, you should make sure I stay down," Michael said.

"And you should have killed me when you had the chance." Adrenaline pumped through Aidan's veins, recharging every tiny muscle and tendon in his body. "I'm a man of my word. Snapping your neck would have been an easy kill. I want you to suffer, you son of a bitch."

Michael reached down into the side of his boot, withdrawing a short spear-point blade. "C'mon, asshole," he taunted, folding his hand in a
come here
gesture.

"Where's Jessie?"

Michael sneered. "Safely locked away." He lowered his chin and held up his arm across his body with the blade gripped firmly in his fist, aimed at Aidan in a combat stance. "You're not the only one with formal training here." He stepped forward and swung his arm, and Aidan stepped back, bowing his body to avoid the swipe. The monster attempted a few more swings, forward and arching upward, growing impatient each time Aidan managed to avoid him. In a split second, the rope around Aidan's wrists finally broke free and Michael barreled forward with a yell, pushing his body into Aidan and throwing them both onto the ground. Michael raised his arm and brought down the knife, stopping only when Aidan held his wrist in the air in a tight grip.

They bared their teeth like enraged animals, grunting and rolling on the dirty, hay-covered ground, one trying to overpower the other.

"Get away from him!" A new voice echoed in the open space.

Michael whipped his head around, and Aidan took advantage of the momentary distraction. He broke free from the hold and jammed his thumb into the wound on Michael's arm. Michael let out a howl of pain and rolled onto his back, giving Aidan the second he needed to land a punch to his opponent's face. Aidan threw another punch, then another. Michael struggled and kneed Aidan in the torso, intentionally aiming for the freshly opened wound.

Aidan gasped from the pain and his vision blurred. He barely had a chance to focus when Michael slashed the knife across his chest. The anger thrummed through Aidan's body, numbing him to the burning new slice of his skin. He gripped Michael's shoulders as a growl-like sound emerged from his throat. He head-butted his opponent to weaken him then held down Michael's body as he pulled back his arm and began repeatedly punching Michael, channeling every ounce of rage and vengeance into his fists and his bloodied target. There was no flashback or monster from Aidan's past demanding his attention. His focus was vivid, sharp, and squarely aimed at destroying the monster who had stolen so much from Jessie.

"Get off him!" the voice yelled again, a split second before a shot rang through the air.

Aidan's body instantly bowed and his jaw slackened with the searing burn that pierced his core, each hissed breath racing in and out of his lungs like a blaze of fire. His lips curled into a sneer, biting back the sting of pain rippling through his limbs.

Michael grabbed him by the throat and thrust him to the ground, straddling him, pushing the weight of his body onto Aidan. "You're a weak son of a bitch," Michael said with a twisted, bloodstained smile. He hooked his other arm backward, taking aim at Aidan's body with the blade in hand.

Aidan gasped and gripped Michael's wrist with both hands in the air, stopping the blade before it pierced his body. He grunted and snarled as he worked to twist Michael's hand, shifting the tip of the blade to the side and slowly around, aiming it at its new target. Michael's eyes rounded as his arm shook, trying to redirect the blade away from his body.

A veil of red colored Aidan's vision. The rage, the pain, the hurt…justice and vengeance battled for control and recharged each tendon in his pained body. His blood was on fire, blazing a trail of fury in every inch of his muscles. He pushed the blade that final inch away from himself and into the hard flesh of his opponent's abdomen, seating the blade at the mark with full force and twisting the handle to eliminate any room for error. Aidan looked into the shocked eyes of the monster staring back at him, reveling in the justice of the fading life from that hollow gaze, before the weight of Michael's body fell upon him with a thump.

"I'll kill him," the voice shrieked brokenly.

Aidan glanced over the shoulder of Michael's slumped form and inhaled sharply, panic instantly flooding his body.

Jessie stood still with an arm locked around his neck. A young man—roughly an inch or two taller but just as lean and fit with dark hair and light eyes—stood behind him, pointing a gun at Aidan.

Aidan blinked a few times, trying to reconcile what he saw. He didn't care about the barrel of the gun aimed at him. He didn't care about the young man holding Jessie. All that mattered was Jessie and the haunted, vacant gaze as he stared at Aidan's body.

Aidan's focus shifted to the cut on Jessie's lip and his bruised eye and cheek. Anger exploded. He clenched his hands and bit back the rage that clawed its way to the forefront. His heart slammed against his chest and a pounding echo pulsated in his head.

Maim.

Kill.

Rip the fucker apart who dared hurt
his
Jess.

He shoved away Michael's lifeless body from above him and yanked the blade out from Michael's abdomen. He slowly stood and turned to face his new opponent, wiping the blood from the knife on his jeans-clad thigh, readying himself for his next target.

"Jess…"

Aidan took a step forward and the man stepped back, dragging Jessie against him like a shield. Aidan took another step and staggered slightly as the adrenaline slowly evaporated from his system. He shook his head to clear his vision. In the midst of the pain fogging his mind, he sought Jessie and the sea of crystal blue, needing some telepathic surge of strength. Instead, there it was, that haunted look in Jessie's eyes. The one he'd seen when they first met. The one he'd hoped to never see again. The fear and pain bore into Aidan's soul and radiated throughout his body, compounding the aches of his muscles and weakening him.

The man yanked Jessie's head back by his hair and turned the gun, digging the metal barrel against Jessie's temple. "You killed him!" the man yelled with a sob, the panic rising in his voice. "I want you to know how that feels!"

"Aidan…"

The crack from Jessie's plea nearly broke him and made him stumble.

Save Jessie. Nothing. Else. Matters.

He screwed his eyes shut and steadied his breathing as best he could past the pain that clamped down around his torso and burned in his lungs. He didn't want to think about where the damn pain was coming from anymore. He raised the blade and took a deep breath to steady his shaking hand.

What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't put Jess at risk like this. He lowered his hand and took a step forward. His step faltered. The room started spinning and each breath made a wheezing sound from his chest.

"Aidan," Jessie whispered. "Look at me."

It took too much effort to coordinate his breathing, standing, and keeping his hands steady. He stumbled back then looked up, focusing his attention on Jessie to ground him.

The man pulled back Jessie's head with force, a crazed, almost delirious expression washing over his features. He spoke, his tone, although a whisper obviously directed at Jessie, carried in the open space. "He's dying. You're going to watch him die and there's nothing you can do about it."

Aidan swallowed heavily as his body swayed, his attention drawn to the shine in Jessie's eyes. Aidan shook his head harshly from side to side with a grunt, trying to coordinate his body.
I don't ever want you to be scared again
.

"Jess…" He pleaded, his voice broken, pushing each breath through clenched teeth. He blinked slowly, his grip on the knife loosening as he begged for a shred of mercy to come into his life at that very moment—not for him, he didn't give a shit about himself.
Please don't hurt him.

"Aidan, look at me, dammit. Look. At. Me." Jessie's tone hardened with a sudden strength that boomed across the room like a sonic message only Aidan could hear. His voice sharpened Aidan's focus and beckoned his fighting spirit to resurrect. "Every second of every day, with every breath and heartbeat. Know that I trust you just as much."

Jessie's few words awakened a surge of strength within Aidan. He narrowed his eyes, forcing his vision to sharpen further and took one deep, steadying breath. He straightened his arm with renewed determination and aimed the blade at the man threatening the life of
his
Jess a few yards away. Aidan flicked his arm back then forward with a final thrust of power before launching the blade across the room just as everything faded to black.