I felt something wet and warm beneath my fingers and knew what it was. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as I pressed a kiss to his forehead and held him against me as best I could. His arm went around me, though he was careful not to apply any pressure to my wound. I held Jake as his body shook a few times, then he quieted, his tears eventually drying up. It was almost worse that he refused to let completely go.
But I suspected it was because he needed to be able to keep his wits about him so he could keep us both safe.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“Ran. I ran and ran and ran. For weeks on end. I was too afraid to reach out to anyone to ask for help.”
“Your family?” I asked.
“Them especially,” he said with a nod. “I knew they’d be Barton’s first stop. I was terrified he’d hurt them, but I was powerless to do anything. I figured the less they knew, the better. I tried to monitor them from a distance as best I could.”
“The Facebook page,” I said as I remembered the moment I’d walked in on him browsing what I’d suspected had been one of his parents’ profiles.
“They looked for me for months,” Jake said softly. “They made their profiles public and asked anyone and everyone to share pictures of me so they could help find me. I’m not sure what story Barton told my parents, because all they said in their posts was that I was missing… every once in a while, they’d…”
“They’d what?” I asked when he didn’t continue.
“They’d write a message directly to me on their pages. On my birthday or Christmas. They’d tell me they loved me and beg me to just pick up the phone.” Jake let out a harsh little sound that was half laugh, half sob. “They said I wouldn’t even need to say anything… that they’d know it was me and they’d know I was okay.”
“I’m so sorry, Jake,” I croaked as I rubbed my finger along his neck. After a while I said, “How did you end up in Haven?”
“After leaving D.C. I worked odd jobs for cash here and there–enough to keep food in my belly and rent motel rooms along the way. But I never stayed in one place for long. After a few months, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was so lonely and scared all the time. So I reached out to this cop I’d met when I was an intern at a hospital in Chicago. I’d saved his grandson’s life when the little boy came into the ER after falling in the family swimming pool. The guy had been so grateful that I knew in my gut he would help me.”
“Did he?” I asked.
Jake nodded. “He told me I had to keep hiding, but he got me a fake ID so I could at least get a decent job and move around a bit easier. Passport, social security card, the works. He also taught me how to use a gun and suggested I learn how to fight so I could defend myself. We only talked at scheduled times and I always used a prepaid phone or a payphone and he did the same. He was able to find out that I’d been named as a person of interest in Peter’s death.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that any cop has the right to stop me and hand me over to the authorities, but I’m not officially charged with the murder. Barton probably told people like my parents that story so they’d help find me instead of shielding me. My friend was planning to reach out to some contacts he trusted, but when I didn’t hear from him, I assumed the worst.”
“What happened to him? Did Barton get him?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
“No, he died of natural causes. He was with his daughter at the grocery store when he had a massive heart attack.”
I closed my eyes as I realized what he wasn’t saying. “You were alone again.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered anyway,” Jake muttered. “I knew I couldn’t risk what happened to Peter happening to someone else. So I just kept moving. After about a year, I felt comfortable enough to leave the country. I kind of felt like if that was my new normal, I needed to make the best of it, you know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, though I couldn’t even imagine what something like that would have been like.
“I’d always really enjoyed the outdoors and hiking, so I’d end up in places where I could just explore the land. Live off it for a while. That led to getting paid to do some freelance wilderness guided trips. Then I met Xander. When he talked about Haven, I just… I don’t know, it sounded like the perfect place to lay low for a while.”