“You think one of your guys wants Jonas dead?” Cole asked.
“That or they were setting me up.”
Cole straightened in his chair. “What do you mean?”
“If one of my guys just wanted Jonas dead, they could have just as easily done it themselves. But they went through a lot of trouble to make Jonas out to be a pedophile because they knew I’d be the one assigned to take him out.”
“How…how would they know that?” Jonas asked, his voice shaky.
I pinned him with my gaze and said, “Because a pedophile murdered my son.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cole
“Mace…” I heard Jonas whisper in disbelief at Mace’s admission. I could see that Mace was barely holding it together because his fists were clenched on the table and his jaw was tight with agitation.
“I’ll head back down to the city tomorrow…maybe I can find something at Jonas’s studio,” Mace said, ignoring both mine and Jonas’s concerned looks. “It’ll give me a chance to get online to see what I can find out.”
“You’re not going back to the gallery,” I said firmly. “It’s an unnecessary risk.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I’m not followed back,” Mace quipped as he stood. “Besides, it’ll give you two some alone time,” he added, but I recognized the jab for what it was and grabbed his arm to keep him from leaving the kitchen.
“You are not going back there.”
I felt the tension in Mace’s body and I knew it wouldn’t take much to push him over. We were both still bruised and battered from our fight the night before, but I didn’t give a shit. If what he needed was a fight to defuse whatever rage was rolling through him because of the admission about his son, I’d give it to him.
“Was his name Evan?”
Mace froze at Jonas’s question but then nodded.
“How old was he?” Jonas asked gently.
“Seven,” Mace said, his eyes now on the place where I was holding on to his arm.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Jonas said softly. I had no idea if Jonas knew something about Mace’s son that I didn’t, or if he was just guessing, but the question got a reaction from Mace, because he yanked his arm free of my hold and took several steps away from both of us.
“I’m going to go check the perimeter,” he said, his tone clipped. I saw him shutting down and withdrawing from both of us, so I hurried after him when he left the kitchen and I reached for the rifle that was sitting next to the front door before he grabbed it. I stepped in front of the door and wasn’t surprised when he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me back against the unforgiving wood.
“Get the fuck out of my way!” he snarled, his desperate anger reminding me of a wounded animal.
“Mace, please just talk to us,” Jonas said from doorway leading to the kitchen.
Mace released me and jerked his eyes towards Jonas.
“Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault,” Jonas repeated.
“Fuck you!” he snapped at Jonas. “Fuck both of you.”
He started heading towards the back door but Jonas stepped in his path. He grabbed Jonas like he had me but even from where I stood, I could see that his hold was loose and gentle and seemed more about keeping Jonas back rather than moving him out of the way.
“Tell me,” Jonas whispered as his hand came up to rub up and down the arm that was holding on to his neck.
“I overslept,” Mace suddenly whispered, his voice barely a croak. “I was supposed to pick him up from school but I forgot to set my alarm clock. I’d worked a double shift the night before and Shel had left that morning to visit her parents in Miami.”
“Was Shel your wife?”
Mace nodded. “Shelby.”
“What happened to Evan?”
“He must have decided to walk home on his own…we only lived a few blocks from the school. They found his body two days later.”
Mace dropped his arm and I could see tears running down his face as he stepped back until his back hit the opposite wall near the staircase.
“I slept through my son being raped…through him being beaten and then strangled with an extension cord, and through his body being dumped in the woods less than a mile from my own house.” Mace suddenly let out a howl of pain and then began slamming his head back against the wall. I quickly put the rifle down and hurried to Mace’s side and slid my hand behind his head to keep him from hurting himself.
“You couldn’t have known,” I whispered.
“I was his father!” he shouted and then he grabbed my arms in a painful hold. “I can hear him calling for me, Cole! He needed me and I fucking wasn’t there!”
“I’m sorry,” I said as I gripped Mace’s face with my hands. “So sorry,” I repeated as I pulled him forward and began kissing away the damp tears that still flooded his skin. He quieted under my ministrations and the bruising hold on my arms eased but he didn’t release me. I could feel his soft breath against my lips as I reached his mouth and we both held there for several long seconds until I finally slanted my mouth over his.