Without Fear

by Reese Knightley

  Logan reached across the table and slipped his fingers through his, lacing them tightly together.

  “Macy…”

  He glanced up at the gravelly tone and froze. Logan’s eyes blazed with heat and need and something just beyond his understanding. When it dawned on him, his heart slammed against his ribs.

  Oh no, don’t say it. He watched as Logan’s lips parted and the man took a deep breath.

  “I -”

  As quickly as he could, he leaned across the small table and put a hand over Logan’s mouth.

  “No, don’t say it,” he gritted out harshly, his eyes burning at the warmth growing in Logan’s eyes.

  “Let’s go,” he said abruptly and stood.

  Logan was quiet on the drive back to the beach house and Macy was glad. The silence gave him time to think.

  The house was quiet when they entered. Most of the men were still on the sting in case Siegel showed. Hayden and Jett had accompanied them back here, following them in a black SUV when they left the restaurant.

  He wracked his brain over and over on how to approach the discussion he knew they needed to have. It was one thing to risk his own life as an agent, it was another to risk Logan, his team, and this town. Sure, Logan’s men were trained bodyguards and ex-military, but in the end, they weren’t law enforcement and he was.

  Macy closed the bedroom door and leaned back against it, watching as Logan eased the shirt off over his head and tossed it aside.

  When he didn’t move, Logan glanced toward him. Something in his expression caused the man to stop moving.

  “What?” Logan frowned.

  “Let’s talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About this.” He waved his hand between them.

  “Macy, I love…”

  “No,” he interrupted, pressing a hand to his own mouth. “Don’t say it.”

  “Ok.” Logan’s face turned to stone and Macy would have given anything to take the look of hurt from the man’s green eyes.

  “Just…save it,” he amended. “Tell me when I see you again. If you feel the same way then.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Logan growled.

  Damn it! How many times did they need to have this fucking argument before Logan started treating him like an agent?

  “You don’t control me or my actions.”

  Logan’s hands clenched and unclenched while his eyes burned with the need to call the shots. Well, Macy had news for the guy. If they were ever going to have a chance at having anything together after this case, then this shit stopped now.

  “Look.” He took a deep breath to try and control his own rising anger. “The sooner you accept that you can’t control me, the better off we’ll be.”

  “I don’t want to control you.”

  Macy arched one eyebrow. “No? Then tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

  Logan’s throat moved.

  “And a hard swallow isn’t an answer.”

  “I can protect you.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  Stalemate.

  Macy believed Logan meant it that he could protect him, but he wouldn’t be treated any less than as an equal.

  In every way.

  And that made his decision much easier.

  Logan

  He gripped Macy’s hand tightly as they walked to the gravesite.

  He was afraid that if he didn’t, Macy would break away from him and walk away, never looking back.

  With his free hand, Macy angled the big black umbrella over their heads. Around them were his men and those of Macy’s team. It would have been careless to think Siegel wouldn’t try something at Frank’s funeral.

  Macy’s arm brushed his and Logan tightened his grip. The man had stopped his words of love last night and in his heart, he’d known it was too soon for Macy. While he might be ready to say them, Macy clearly wasn’t ready to hear them. He did have hope, though. After all this craziness with Siegel was over, he would hold Macy to his promise.

  He needed to talk to Macy and discuss his own overbearing tendencies. It wasn’t any one thing that made him the way he was. It stemmed from being the oldest and having to step up when his parents had been killed. It stemmed from his little sister being a rape victim. It stemmed from his genetic makeup, down to the very marrow of who he was. He would change. For Macy, he’d try like hell to change. If Macy gave him the chance.

  Last night, they’d gone to sleep in anger. He’d taken a spot on the living room floor after Macy had stalked into one of the bedrooms and locked the door. Logan wanted to break it down, but he’d had the good sense to nix that idea.

  He swept his gaze discretely past the crowd of people and along the edge of the trees that surrounded the cemetery.

  Thank fuck Macy was wearing a bulletproof vest. He’d felt an overwhelming sense of relief when Macy had come out of his room and pulled on the vest with the white letters “FBI” etched on the front. Over that, Macy had tugged on a black, long sleeved shirt.

  Macy fought with and eventually tugged his hand from his tight grip and crossed his arms against his chest. The man’s chin was tipped and lips pressed tight, like a volcano of anger was ready to rip.

  Rather than reach for Macy again, Logan stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved his gaze back to the gathering and the gentle murmur of words the official was saying. It seemed that Frank had been alone in life and Macy and the FBI agent, Nathan, were the closest thing to family Frank had had. No bagpipes or gunfire for the man who’d given his life for his country. Macy had assured him Frank would have hated the fanfare.

  “Got movement at the north side,” Felix’s voice came over the mic.

  “I see him,” Jett responded.

  Several of his and Macy’s men were positioned around the cemetery, and he had to wonder how the fuck Siegel’s men had gotten this close.

  “Let us bow our heads,” the pastor said just as bullets pinged, hitting Frank’s casket. One round hit the pastor in the shoulder. The man gasped and fell backwards, but Jaxon’s quick reflexes saved the guy from hitting the ground.

  There might have been screaming if this was an ordinary funeral service, but every single person there was from law enforcement.

  Logan spun and cupped the back of Macy’s head before forcing him to hunch over. Logan ran the younger man that way to take cover behind a massive headstone.

  “Damn it!” Macy growled and shook off his hand.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “Reflexes.”

  Macy huffed and sent him a dark glare. The Glock seventeen Macy pulled from his coat meant business. “I get it, but can you remember for one fucking minute that I’m not and will never be your charge?” Macy snapped, and swung his arm around the headstone to fire off a round at the trees where the shots had come from.

  Logan grunted and pulled his own weapon to watch their backs. The glint of a gun reflected in the trees at their flank and a bullet shattered part of the headstone near Macy. Logan fired off a round and heard a distant yelp.

  Macy spat out dust and debris and returned fire. The agent sent five more rounds in the direction of where the shot that hit the pastor had come from.

  “Boss, you copy?” Jaxon said through the com in his ear.

  “Copy. Where you at?”

  “I stashed the pastor with the FBI in the carpark, but Felix, Hayden, and I are pinned down near the cars.”

  “Siegel might have brought in some expert help,” Macy rasped to everyone through the mic.

  That was exactly what Logan had been afraid of. Expert help could mean any type of thugs. He needed to get Macy the fuck out of there.

  “Ryder, check in,” he ordered.

  “Jett, Nathan, and I are about twenty yards from your position,” Ryder growled.

  “Macy?” Macy’s radio crackled and the man jerked it up, pressing the button.

  “Go ahead, Stanton.”

  “Whip and I are headed your way,” Stanton said
. “Don’t shoot.”

  Macy pulled back and held his fire.

  “Fuck that,” US Marshal Whip Tauber’s hard, deep voice came over the radio two seconds later. “We need cover fire. Coming in just west of you.”

  Logan swung his arm around and found Whip and Stanton dodging from headstone to headstone. He opened fire and Macy joined him, providing cover until the US Marshals made it to them.

  “You okay?” Stanton looked Macy over.

  Logan noticed the blood oozing on Macy’s cheek and jerked the man toward him.

  “It’s nothing,” Macy spat, shoving him away. Macy glared at him and wiped at his cheek. “Just a piece of concrete.”

  Logan clenched his teeth and stepped forward. He lifted the edge of his t-shirt to wipe off the blood on Macy’s cheek.

  “Stop it,” Macy hissed.

  He drew back. Gunshots from the parking lot echoed across the grassy hill of the cemetery before dying away completely. Several long minutes passed before Hayden checked in.

  “They’re running,” Hayden said, and the bodyguard sounded out of breath.

  Sure enough, after several minutes, his team confirmed that the perps had left the area.

  Logan took his first deep breath since the incident had started.

  “It’s odd them leaving like that,” Stanton grumbled.

  “Not really,” Macy disagreed. “They took their best shot at me and missed. They didn’t expect you all to be here. Stupid asses.”

  “They’ll regroup and try again,” Logan growled.

  “Logan,” Macy turned to him, “I’m leaving.”

  “No, no fucking way,” he snarled, rounding on Macy. “Doesn’t this show you how fucking dangerous this guy is?”

  “You’re being ridiculous.” Macy threw up his hands.

  He snapped his teeth so hard, the sound traveled the space between them.

  “Macy, I can protect you.”

  “I have no doubts, but it’s not about that. And if you’d get your head out of your ass, you’d see that me leaving is the best thing to do. For everyone.”

  “I disagree and if you weren’t so stubborn and bent on doing every fucking thing yourself without help, you’d see I’m right,” he growled right back.

  “Well, I guess that’s it then because I’m not going to change.”

  “Well, neither am I,” he growled, but it felt like a lie. “So, get it through your thick head, we’re sticking together.” He forged on, ignoring the building rage in Macy’s gaze.

  “No, we aren’t.”

  Macy went to turn away from him and Logan caught the slender man and tossed him over one shoulder.

  Rather than fight him, Macy went lax. That should have been his first clue, but he had underestimated Macy in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

  Jogging to the carpark, he placed Macy on his feet.

  Macy stepped back with his finger on the radio. It was flashing red.

  Nathan and Jett converged on him.

  The next moment, Jett was stepping up to him.

  “Logan Cobalt, you’re under arrest for accosting a federal agent.”

  “Are you fucking serious?” He gazed at Macy with burning eyes, his rising anger racing heat into his face.

  “I warned you.” Macy glared back as the first bite of metal clamped around his wrist.

  “What the motherfucking hell?” Jaxon snarled, but Nathan pulled a gun on the bodyguard. Jaxon gave Nathan a death glare and lifted his gun right back.

  “Stand down,” he ordered Jaxon while Jett pulled his other arm behind his back and attached the handcuff. Jaxon reluctantly lowered his gun.

  Macy’s chin tilted and the angry glare was burning a hole in him. Logan drew a deep breath.

  “You think this will stop me?”

  “Yes.” Macy chewed on his lip. “It had better.”

  “All right then. Take care of yourself.” He kept the emotion out of his voice, knowing that it sounded cold and angry, but the level of pissed off he felt overwhelmed his sense of reason.

  “You too,” Macy snapped and spun, walking away.

  Whip and Stanton stepped up and flanked Macy and put him into an unmarked car. Logan watched the disappearing SUV for a moment and then turned to Jett.

  “Why aren’t you going with him?” he snarled.

  “He’s entering WITSEC,” Nathan responded, his voice filled with regret and he nodded to Jett, who in turn removed the handcuffs.

  “Why?” He tried to come to grips with what Nathan was telling him, but it was a struggle. “Why wouldn’t he just tell me?” He rubbed at his wrists.

  “Would you have listened?” Nathan sneered.

  “Would you have let him go?” Jett added quietly.

  “Hell no.” He felt bereft and adrift as if floating in a vast sea of nothing.

  “That’s why,” Nathan responded. “You treat him like he’s not a federal agent, like he’s some twink you need to keep safe.”

  “That’s not true!” The words came hot and fast. “I love him.”

  “Dude.” Nathan shook his head. “There’s love and then there’s overprotectiveness to the point of stifling someone. If you really knew anything about Macy, you’d already know you can’t do that. You have to accept who he is and what he does, or you need to walk away.”

  Fuck… was that how Macy felt? Had he negated what Macy did by insisting that he be protected? Probably, and by doing so, he’d made Macy feel less than capable. Macy didn’t trust him or his love, and it was his own fucking fault.

  Logan squeezed his hands into fists. “How is me being obsessive about his protection any different than witness protection?”

  “He’s not in love with witness protection, you idiot. He needs you to see him and treat him as an equal.”

  “Tell me where he is and I’ll make this right.” He whirled on Jett.

  “You know I can’t do that.” Regret clung to Jett’s words.

  He lifted a hand and pulled it over the stubble on his lip, mouth, and chin before he turned and walked away.

  One month later

  Macy

  The swing came and Macy ducked, but he was late with his jump and missed the leg sweep.

  The sweep sent him to his back on the floor.

  “Ow.” He slapped the mat with his palms, leaving a sting in his good hand to match the one on his ass.

  “Better.”

  He wrinkled his nose up at Stanton and grabbed the hand the giant held out.

  Once on his feet, he gingerly rubbed his arm and limped over to the table where a row of water bottles sat.

  Stanton followed him and when he got close enough, held out a tube of Icy Hot.

  “It’s fine,” he muttered and twisted the cap off the bottle to take several swallows of the cold liquid. His arm hurt like a motherfucker though.

  “Humor me,” Stanton rumbled.

  Macy rolled his eyes and took the tube. Easing his arm from his crop top, he slathered the ointment on the fading bruise that ran the length of his forearm.

  Getting away from Siegel’s men at the cemetery had proven harder than they’d thought.

  While Logan had been in cuffs, he’d driven away with Whip and Stanton. The minute they reached the street had been another matter. The car he’d been riding in had been broadsided.

  Glass had shattered, slicing his leg open, and his arm had smacked the inside of the car with such force that it had almost broken it. Under cover of fire, he’d scrambled out of the car, trying to hold onto his Glock while Whip and Stanton returned fire. Two FBI vehicles suddenly appeared and returned fire.

  He, Whip, and Stanton were able to get away. That time. But he needed to be prepared.

  “How’s the leg?”

  He lowered his workout pants and then peeled off the bandage that covered the long, jagged scab.

  Stanton squinted and leaned in to get a closer look. “It’s red around the edges.”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t hurt as much as
it did last week.”

  Stanton grunted, wiped a towel over his face, and then lifted a chain from the table to slip on. The US Marshals badge settled against the guy’s wide chest.

  Turning stiffly because damn it, his arm did ache, he was lucky the guy hadn’t broken it. He gathered up his backpack from the table and followed Stanton from the small private gym.

  While he knew how to fight, Stanton had agreed to teach him advanced martial arts. That way, he stood half a chance in kicking some serious ass if needed. He couldn’t wait to show Logan his new set of skills. That was if Logan ever spoke to him again.

  His face met the wall of muscle of Stanton’s back when the marshal came to a stop in the doorway that led to the street.

  “Macy.”

  “Huh?” He gazed up in confusion.

  “Pay attention,” Stanton growled.

  “Sorry.” Of course, he needed to pay attention. He had been, and continued to be, distracted with thoughts of Logan. Plus, Siegel was in the wind. But Macy knew what the real problem was. He couldn’t get any information about what was going on back home. Was Logan doing okay? It had been a cold move to put Logan in cuffs, but the man was irritating as hell. Was he still pissed at him? Had he given up on him?

  He should have told Logan he loved him instead of having him arrested.

  The Idaho street was wet with rain and the lights sent shadows along the sidewalk where one building ended and another began. He ran his sharp gaze over the street and surrounding area all the way back to the entrance to their building. Stanton used his key fob and the doors unlocked.

  “You’re late,” Whip said the moment Stanton closed the apartment door.

  “Sorry,” Macy grinned. “I wanted another go at Stanton.”

  “How’d that work out for you?” Whip’s smile widened.

  Macy waggled his hand back and forth. “So so.”

  Stanton snorted.

  Movement from the kitchen had Macy palming the Glock tucked into his pants. He pulled it and aimed it at the stranger’s head.

  Stanton whirled around and pulled his firearm as well.

  “Hold,” Whip said. “He’s a friendly.”

  Macy lowered his gun and waited because the guy didn’t look friendly at all.