Page 49 of The Keeper

Nick turned and looked at him with a raised brow. Was Rueben’s reaction overkill?

“The oil only slowed him down. He said he was going to kill me, and I wasn’t giving up without a fight.”

The sirens went from a distant wail to a deafening scream as the cavalry arrived. Rueben pulled free of Cash and waited in the living room. Seth was the first one through the door, but he wasn’t alone. Lyndhurst and the agent who’d originally worked the Salvation Anew case entered behind him. The look of relief on Seth’s face made Rueben’s knees weak. Strong arms wrapped around him again, but this time, they belonged to the man he loved.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Rueben said.

Seth murmured assurances for several moments before he pulled back enough to cup Rueben’s face and hold his gaze. A throat cleared behind them, and Seth smiled. They couldn’t deny a deeper connection between them now. As if Seth read his mind, he lowered his head and kissed Rueben.

“What are you doing?” Rueben whispered when he pulled back.

“Announcing to everyone that you’re the keeper.”

Seth’s blood pressure had been on a steady climb, with each new event contributing to the clusterfuck of all clusterfucks. He’d nearly reached stroke-inducing levels when he couldn’t get ahold of Rueben after Quinton Carson escaped custody. The successful ambush detonated explosive allegations, accusations, and endless finger pointing between the law enforcement agencies. Luckily, both marshals avoided grave injuries, and their return fire took out one of the gunmen and likely injured Quinton. The downed assailant turned out to be Jasper Odell, which connected several dots, raised more questions, and fueled a lot of speculation. What was the end game? Was the point of the ambush to help Quinton escape, or did they have a bigger agenda? Did he get as far away as fast as he could, or had he stuck around to take care of the other people who could testify against him?

As soon as the idea struck, Seth gave up trying to be discreet to salvage his reputation. He’d ignored the unveiled hostility aimed in his direction as he frantically tried to reach Rueben. A call to Redemption Ridge accomplished two things: he found out Keegan was safe and asked Nick, a former FBI agent, to check on Rueben. Not even that was enough to quell his unease, so he’d headed out of the station with Lyndhurst and Agent Johansen on his heels, demanding to know where he was going and why. Rueben was the only thing that mattered to him, not his job and certainly not their opinions. Seth had prepared to leave them behind, but the assholes had jumped into his SUV before he could pull away. He’d fucked up enough and didn’t need to add assaulting a federal officer or the county prosecutor to the mix. Seth had given them an overview of his secret during the drive but blocked out their reactions.

Now that he held Rueben safely in his arms, it was time to pay the piper. He pressed a kiss to Rueben’s forehead and whispered, “It’s about to get really ugly.”

Rueben’s big brown eyes brimmed with love. “Bring it on. I took down that son of a bitch. Next man up.”

“Seth.” Tony’s voice was firm but not hostile. “Let’s go see if we can figure out who this guy is while another officer gets a statement from Mr. Sanchez.”

He held Rueben’s gaze for a few more heartbeats before he lowered his arms and stepped back. “This is almost over, and everything will work out.”

“You better hope so,” Tony whispered as they walked away. “Christ, I can’t figure out where your head has been. This stunt could cost you everything if it gets out.”

Seth halted his steps. “Not if, Tony.” The prosecutor stopped and whirled to face him. “When. I won’t compound my mistakes by engaging in an elaborate cover-up.”

Seth didn’t yet have a solid game plan in mind, but he knew that much, at least. Some could argue—okay, mostly Seth argued—that he should’ve made a contingency plan for when his relationship with Rueben came to light. Standing in the revelation’s aftermath, he fully understood that it was always going to happen. Seth’s lack of preparation could mean that someone else got to tell his narrative, and in the wrong hands, his story could get twisted and turned into something ugly when loving Rueben was the definition of beautiful. The two men engaged in a silent showdown that ended with a brief nod from Lyndhurst. Seth thought he saw a shimmer of begrudging respect in the prosecutor’s gaze, but he wouldn’t hold his breath.

Johansen had already moved into the kitchen, where Rueben’s attacker lay unconscious on the floor. The federal agent’s hand covered his mouth as he studied the prone man, but Seth was certain he saw a wry smile peeking out on one side. There was nothing funny about the situation, so maybe it was respect for Rueben’s survival instincts. The assailant’s hulking size sent a shiver of terror down Seth’s spine as he thought about Rueben confronting the man on his own. But as his heart rate calmed, the analytical part of Seth’s brain took over, and he analyzed the scene with objective eyes.

It also helped to inject levity into the situation when Tony stepped up beside him and gasped. “Holy shit.” The prosecutor looked back into the living room before surveying the bound man on the kitchen floor again.

The assailant’s face was cherry red and deformed by blisters. Blood pooled at the back of his head, and Seth’s grandmother’s cast-iron skillet rested a foot away from the prone man. Seth scanned the rest of the kitchen, noted the tortilla shells on the cookie sheet, and pieced together the sequence of events. Rueben had been frying tortillas in the skillet when the intruder arrived. He disabled him by throwing hot oil in the man’s face, then brained him with the skillet. Seth knew he should check the guy for a pulse, but if he put a hand anywhere near this asshole’s throat, he was likely to squeeze the life out of him, if any remained. “Is he…” Seth let the unfinished question float out there.

“He’s alive,” Johansen said, then grimaced. “Though he will probably regret it when he’s conscious again. Your boyfriend really did a number on him.” He didn’t stifle his respect, and Tony grunted in agreement. “An ambulance and additional backup are on the way,” Johansen said, switching gears. “We have to assume this is Odell’s partner. So where is Quinton Carson?”

“Dead or injured somewhere,” Seth said. “The marshals are certain they hit Quinton in the abdomen before he escaped.” They’d alerted all the hospitals in a hundred-mile radius, though a person wasn’t likely to survive an injury like that to make it a quarter of the way. They couldn’t afford any more missteps with assumptions, though. “Is there any ID on him?”

“None,” Johansen said.

The injured man groaned as if coming around. Seth shifted over and kneeled down to be in the man’s line of sight should he open his eyes. “Who are you?” The man’s eyelashes fluttered but didn’t open.

A flurry of activity happened all at once as the ambulance and their backup arrived simultaneously. Johansen photographed the assailant’s original condition before he authorized new accessories. Handcuffs and zip ties replaced Rueben’s crude bindings on his hands and feet. The latter went into evidence bags as the EMTs, luckily not his sister, wheeled the injured man out on a gurney with his police escort in tow. Seth shifted his gaze to Rueben as the short procession passed. The lips he loved so much curled into a snarl, and his man looked like he was about five seconds away from kicking that gurney over. Sensing Seth’s attention, Rueben looked at him and offered his most innocent smile.

“You’ve got your hands full there,” Johansen said. He didn’t know the half of it.

Seth gave the federal agent his full attention. “I know I have a lot of explaining to do, and—”

Johansen held up a hand to cut him off. “You do, but I’m not the one who needs to hear your confession. I worked by your side long enough during the joint task force to know you are a solid investigator and an even better man, and that’s what I will tell anyone who asks.” That was a completely different tone from their phone call earlier, but Seth wasn’t stupid enough to point it out. The agent cleared his throat as if he found the conversation awkward. “That aside, you cannot be involved in this investigation from now on.”

“I understand. I fully recuse myself.”

Johansen blew out a breath, and Seth braced himself for the next blow. “And I want to be clear. I don’t question your integrity or that of your deputies, but it would look highly suspect if anyone from your department is involved with this investigation going forward. It won’t be enough for just you to step aside, Seth. We’ll get help from neighboring law enforcement communities and the CBI.”

Seth wasn’t sure what stung the most—his pride or conscience. The ripple effect from his mistakes had already begun. The press and public would scrutinize the hardworking men and women from his department, and they would likely eviscerate Seth for the things he’d done. “You’re absolutely correct.”

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