Witch’s Promise (Shadowguards #3.5)

9. Sean

Chapter 9

Sean

H e had officially lost his goddamn mind. That was the only explanation for why he was skulking around the corner from The Daily Grind like some discount noir detective, watching Gabe sip his probably-too-sweet coffee through the café's window. Two days. It had been two fucking days since he'd seen Gabe in that alley, and here he was, stalking the guy like a creep.

Smooth, Drake. Real smooth.

His face still ached, a patchwork of fading bruises and half-healed cuts that made him look like he'd gone ten rounds with a meat grinder. Which, considering the Vargr he'd fought, wasn't too far off the mark. At least his left eye had decided to rejoin the party, even if everything still looked a bit fuzzy around the edges.

Sean shifted his weight, wincing as his ribs protested the movement. Katelyn's voice echoed in his head, a replay of the ass-chewing she'd given him yesterday when she'd shown up at his apartment.

"What the actual fuck were you thinking, Sean?" she'd demanded, her eyes blazing with a mixture of worry and fury. "Silver knives? Against a Vargr? Are you trying to get yourself killed or just banned from every supernatural fight club in the tri-state area?"

Sean had tried to explain, to tell her about seeing Gabe in the alley, but the words had caught in his throat. How could he make her understand when he barely understood it himself?

So instead, he'd just shrugged, winced at the pain that simple movement caused, and said, "You should see the other guy."

Katelyn had not been amused.

Now, as Sean watched Gabe through the café window, he wondered if maybe Katelyn had been right. Maybe he was losing it. Because what the hell was he doing here? What did he expect to accomplish by creeping around like this?

Gabe looked good. Healthy. Happy, even. His hair was a bit longer than Sean remembered, curling slightly at the nape of his neck in a way that made Sean's fingers itch to run through it. He was dressed casually in jeans and a soft-looking sweater, a far cry from the sharp suits he'd favored when they were younger.

Sean's chest ached, and for once it had nothing to do with his bruised ribs. Seeing Gabe like this, so close yet impossibly far away, brought back a flood of memories. Late nights studying, lazy Sunday mornings tangled in sheets, the warmth of Gabe's smile and the safety of his embrace. All the things Sean had thrown away because he'd been too scared, too stupid to accept the truth about who Gabe was. Who they both were.

A gust of wind cut through Sean's jacket, making him shiver. He should leave. This was pointless, pathetic even. What was he going to do, waltz into the café and say, "Hey, remember me? The asshole who broke your heart and then disappeared for years? Want to grab a coffee and catch up?"

Yeah, that'd go over real well.

But even as Sean told himself to walk away, his feet remained rooted to the spot. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Gabe, drinking in every detail like a man dying of thirst. The way Gabe's brow furrowed slightly as he read something on his phone. The absent-minded way he stirred his coffee, lost in thought. The ghost of a smile that played at the corners of his mouth as he typed out a response to whatever he'd been reading.

God, Sean had missed him. Missed him with an ache that felt like a physical wound, raw and bleeding even after all these years.

A group of teenagers bustled past, jostling Sean and nearly knocking him off balance. He stumbled, catching himself against the wall of the building he'd been using as cover. The movement sent a fresh wave of pain through his battered body, a stark reminder of the life he'd chosen. The life that had no place for someone like Gabe.

Sean straightened up, ignoring the protests of his aching muscles. This was insane.

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of deep purple and indigo. Sean had lost track of how many hours he'd been at this, following Gabe like a shadow, drinking in every detail of the man he'd once known better than himself. Some might call it creepy, this extended surveillance. Hell, part of Sean knew it was. But another part, a part he'd thought long dead, felt alive for the first time in years.

Watching Gabe, even from a distance, felt like coming up for air after being underwater for too long.

As the night wore on, Gabe's meandering path led them to the river that marked the boundary between Salem and the glittering skyline of New York beyond. Sean watched from behind the broad trunk of an old oak as Gabe approached the water's edge, his silhouette a dark smudge against the twinkling lights of the city.

Gabe stood there, motionless, for what felt like an eternity. Sean found himself holding his breath, as if making a sound might shatter this moment of perfect stillness.

Sean was so lost in his thoughts, in the bitter cocktail of regret and longing that seemed to be his constant companion these days, that he almost missed the shift in the air around him. Almost.

Years of training kicked in, his body reacting before his mind had fully processed the threat. Sean's hands flew to the knives concealed in his jacket pockets, the cool metal a reassuring weight against his palms. He spun, ready to face whatever danger had managed to sneak up on him.

Only to find himself face to face with a ghost from his past.

"Well, well," drawled a voice that sent ice down Sean's spine. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Riley. His father's right-hand man and resident pain in Sean's ass for as long as he could remember. The years hadn't been kind to the older man - his hair was more grey than black now, and new lines had etched themselves into his face. But those eyes were the same. Cold. Calculating. Always looking for weakness.

"Riley," Sean said, his voice low and tight. He didn't lower his hands from his weapons. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Riley's lips curled into a smirk that had always made Sean want to punch him. "Now, now, Sean. Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"We were never friends," Sean spat. The mere presence of Riley was enough to set his teeth on edge, to bring back memories of a life he'd tried so hard to leave behind.

Riley's smirk widened. "Ouch. You wound me, truly. And here I thought we had such fond memories together. All those missions, all that blood on our hands. It creates a bond, don't you think?"

Sean's grip on his knives tightened, his knuckles going white. "Cut the shit, Riley. Why are you here? Does my father know you're skulking around Salem?"

"Why else would I be here?" Riley shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Think, Sean. I know it's not your strong suit, but do try."

The pieces clicked into place, and Sean felt his blood run cold. "Gabe," he breathed, his eyes darting back to where the other man still stood by the water's edge, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking in the shadows. "You're here for Gabe."

Riley's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "Give the boy a prize! He finally gets it."

"Why?" Sean demanded, taking a step closer to Riley. "What the fuck does my father want with Gabe?"

Riley tsked, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher. "Now, Sean. You know I can't tell you that. You're not part of the organization anymore, remember? You gave up your right to that information when you walked away."

Sean's mind raced, trying to make sense of this new information. Why would his father be interested in Gabe after all these years? What possible use could he have for a witch who'd walked away from the magical world?

"Although," Riley continued, his eyes glinting with malice, "I have to say, I find it interesting that you're still pining after the witch. What's it been, Sean? Ten? Twenty? And here you are, following him around like a lost puppy. It's pathetic, really."

Sean's fist connected with Riley's jaw before he'd even made the conscious decision to move. The older man stumbled back, surprise flashing across his face before it was replaced by something darker. More dangerous.

"Careful, boy," Riley growled, rubbing his jaw. "You don't want to start something you can't finish."

"Fuck you," Sean snarled. "Stay away from Gabe. Whatever my father's planning, whatever sick game this is, leave him out of it."

Riley's laughter echoed through the night, setting Sean's nerves on edge. "Or what? You'll stop us? Please. You're nothing, Sean. A washed-up fighter slumming it in underground clubs, too scared to face your past or your future. You couldn't protect Gabe before, what makes you think you can now?"

The words hit Sean like physical blows, each one finding its mark with unerring accuracy. Because Riley was right, wasn't he? Sean was nothing. A failure. A coward who'd run from the only good thing in his life because he'd been too afraid to face the truth.

But as Sean stood there, his chest heaving with a mixture of rage and shame, he felt something else. A spark of defiance, of determination. Because Riley might be right about who Sean was, but he was wrong about one thing.

Sean might not be able to protect Gabe. But he'd die trying.

"You're wrong," Sean said, his voice low and steady. "I'm not nothing. And I'm sure as hell not going to let you or my father hurt Gabe."

Riley's eyes narrowed, assessing. For a moment, Sean thought the older man might attack. But then Riley's face split into another one of those infuriating smirks.

"We'll see about that," he said, taking a step back. "But word of advice, Sean? Stay out of this. It's bigger than you, bigger than your pathetic little crush. Walk away now, while you still can."

Sean's blood boiled, his fists clenching at his sides. Who the fuck did Riley think he was, telling him to walk away? After everything Sean had sacrificed, everything he'd lost, did this smug bastard really think he'd just turn his back on Gabe again?

"Listen here, you piece of-" Sean started, but the words died in his throat as Riley vanished before his eyes. One moment the older man was there, smirking that infuriating smirk, and the next, nothing but empty air.

"Fuck," Sean muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Sean's eyes darted back to the riverbank where Gabe still stood, a solitary figure silhouetted against the glittering skyline of New York. He looked so damn peaceful, so unaware of the danger lurking in the shadows. It made Sean's chest ache with a mixture of longing and dread.

What was he supposed to do now? The smart move would be to walk away, to pretend he'd never seen Gabe or Riley. To go back to his shitty apartment and his even shittier life, and leave the past where it belonged.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, Sean knew he couldn't do it. Couldn't turn his back on Gabe, not again. Not when he was in danger.

As Sean stood there, paralyzed by indecision, his mother's voice echoed in his head. A memory from years ago, before everything had gone to shit. Before Sean had made the biggest mistake of his life.

"Sometimes, sweetheart," her mother had said, her eyes soft with understanding, "the bravest thing you can do is to let someone in. To be vulnerable. It's easy to push people away, to build walls. But real strength? Real courage? That comes from opening your heart, even when you're scared."

At the time, Sean had brushed off his mother's words as sentimental nonsense. What the fuck did vulnerability have to do with being strong? But now, standing here with the weight of his past pressing down on him, Sean finally understood what she'd meant.

He'd spent years running. From his family, from his feelings, from himself. He'd built walls so high and so thick that nothing could get through. Not pain, not love, not hope. He'd told himself it was for the best, that he was protecting himself and others by staying away.

But what if he'd been wrong? What if, in trying to shield himself from pain, he'd only caused more? What if the real act of courage wasn't walking away, but walking towards the very thing that scared him most?

Sean's eyes fixed on Gabe's back, taking in the familiar slope of his shoulders, the way the wind ruffled his hair. God, he'd missed him. Missed him with an ache that felt like a physical wound, raw and bleeding even after all these years.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Sean's feet were moving. Each step felt like walking through molasses, his body fighting against the decision his heart had already made. But he pressed on, closing the distance between himself and the man he'd once loved. The man he still loved, if he was being honest with himself.

As Sean drew closer, he could hear the gentle lapping of the river against the shore, smell the faint scent of Gabe's cologne carried on the breeze. It was achingly familiar, a sensory memory that transported Sean back to happier times. To lazy Sunday mornings and stolen kisses and a future that had seemed so bright.

Sean's heart pounded in his chest, a rapid-fire beat that drowned out everything else. What was he going to say? How could he possibly explain his presence, his years of absence, the danger that now lurked in the shadows?

He was close enough now that he could reach out and touch Gabe if he wanted to. Close enough to see the tension in Gabe's shoulders, the way his hands gripped the railing as he stared out at the water.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to come over," Gabe said, his voice soft but clear in the night air. He didn't turn around, didn't so much as twitch. "You never were very good at the whole stealth thing, Sean."