Page 22 of The Keeper

Rueben kept his eyes on Keegan as he handed his debit card to her. He had to look away to return his card to his wallet and stuff his purchases in his tote, but then he made a beeline for his friend. Keegan was as still and stiff as a statue as he stared unblinkingly out the window. Rueben eased up beside him and settled a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Keegan’s muscles twitched under his fingers, but that was the only acknowledgment of Rueben’s touch or presence. His mind had swept Kee someplace scary, judging by the looks of it. Rueben scanned the sidewalk in front of the shop, looking for the cause. He hadn’t seen this catatonic-like response from Keegan in six months or more.

“What’s wrong, Kee?” Rueben kept his voice soft and calm, trying to ease his friend out of his fugue.

Keegan blinked rapidly, then trembled like a frightened animal. He turned wide, wet eyes toward Rueben and reached out with both hands. A wave of helplessness buckled his knees as fat tears dripped down Keegan’s face.

“Sweetheart,” Hope said, stepping up to bracket Keegan’s other side. “What’s wrong?”

Keegan blinked a few more times, sending more tears streaking down his face. “I thought I saw him.”

“Who?” Reuben and Hope asked at the same time.

“Brother Cain.”

It took Rueben a minute to understand the reference to one of the Salvation Anew members. Most of the cult had remained at the compound after Mick and Quinton Carson fled. They’d been brainwashed to only do what they were told. No one had given them permission to leave, so they’d stayed behind even when food became scarce. Law enforcement interviewed those members thoroughly after their rescue and reunited them with their worried families. That was when Seth and the feds learned that two high-ranking cult members, who went by Brother Cain and Brother Abel, had also fled in the days after Mick and Quinton left. Keegan named Brother Cain his chief tormentor, and the potential sighting had triggered all his past trauma.

Rueben tensed and scanned the streets again, looking for a man with an overlong beard and an unkept appearance who dressed in simply constructed clothes, but no one fit the bill. Then he realized the guys could’ve easily altered their appearance by shaving, styling their hair different, and wearing normal clothes. “Where, Kee?”

“Across the street.” He blinked and shook his head. “I don’t think it was really him. Something about the guy’s posture just reminded me of that bastard.” He shivered hard again.

“Do you need something warm to put on?” Hope asked.

Keegan shook his head and smiled pitifully at her. “I’ll be fine, but thank you.” Then he turned his wounded eyes back to Rueben. “The guy had white-blond hair like Cain and had a similar build. But he wore regular clothes and didn’t have a beard. If I could’ve seen his eyes, I would’ve known for sure. They’re the coldest blue you’ll ever see. It’s like he’s dead inside. But this guy wore a ball cap low on his forehead.”

Rueben shivered from the description, and fear for his friend gripped his heart. “Kee, do you think we should call Sheriff Burke?”

Keegan swiped the tears from his face. “There’s nothing to tell. I zoned out and didn’t even see where he went.” Embarrassment lingered in his expression before he averted his gaze.

Hope rubbed small circles on Keegan’s back. “Do you want me to get security camera footage? If mine didn’t pick him up, others along the street would have.”

Keegan shook his head. “No. I feel so silly. There’s no way Cain would risk coming back here.”

Rueben wasn’t nearly as certain, and law enforcement would definitely like to talk to anyone that remotely resembled either man. But he didn’t want to push the issue and make things worse for Keegan. They’d just need to be vigilant.

“Brendan taught me how to deal with triggers in therapy.” Keegan closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. When he met Rueben’s gaze again, he looked calmer. “I used to see them everywhere I looked, but I haven’t had one in a few months. This just caught me off guard. Please don’t make a fuss. I’m okay.”

Rueben nodded, but he wasn’t taking chances. “Let’s head back to the ranch.” Keegan would feel safer there and could work through the aftereffects in private.

“What about getting something to eat?” Keegan frowned.

“We both know there are plenty of leftovers at the ranch. I call first dibs on the spaghetti and meatballs.”

Keegan smiled at that. “You’re going to turn into a meatball.” He reached for Rueben’s hand. “You’re not going to hover all day long, are you?”

Reuben snorted. “Of course not.”

But he kept his eyes on Keegan over the next several hours. They ate leftover spaghetti and meatballs in his cabin and binge-watched the newest season of The Traitors, including the postmortem episodes and the reunion. The combination of food, friendship, and faithless traitors worked wonders for Keegan and distracted Rueben from obsessively watching the clock. Or that’s what he thought until he unintentionally drew attention to himself during their weekly poker game at Ivan and Rory’s house.

“You got someplace you need to be?” Owen asked as he dealt the next hand.

“No.” Rueben’s answer came fast—too fast—and all eyes in the room shifted to him. “Why?”

“You’ve checked the time at least three times in the past fifteen minutes,” Ivan said.

“I counted four times in the past twelve minutes,” Rory countered.

Everyone picked up their cards to assess their hands, except for Finley. His keen green gaze locked on Rueben and didn’t budge. His scalp prickled and beaded with sweat, but Rueben kept a neutral expression on his face.

“You’ve seemed off for a few weeks,” Finley said softly. “Quieter and a little withdrawn.”

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