Without Fear

by Reese Knightley

  “Thank you.”

  Logan ended the call. He sat for a moment, conscious of the eyes on him. He felt like the room was waiting for his orders. Logan rubbed a hand down his face and finally gazed at Alexander.

  “What’re you thinking?” Alexander asked.

  Logan turned to his laptop and typed in the Google search bar.

  “You heard Wild. Macy bought a ticket yesterday morning. It takes roughly 18 hours to go by bus from Las Vegas to Colorado Springs with all the stops along the way.” He glanced at his watch, it said noon. “If he reached Colorado Springs, it would have been around two in the morning.”

  Logan nodded at the monitors. “Focus all your efforts here in Colorado.”

  “Hayden, Felix?”

  “What do you need?” Hayden stood from his desk.

  “I need you two in Colorado Springs.” It would take about 55 minutes to get there.

  Hayden and Felix left the room.

  Monitors flashed and phones rang as a sense of urgency filled the room.

  It was an urgency that would carry them through the next several hours.

  Macy had disappeared like smoke somewhere between Vegas and Colorado. Wild and the rest of the agents and his men found no trace of Macy at any of the stops.

  Logan had Felix and Ryder remain in Colorado Springs, and recalled the rest of the unit from the field. In his gut, he felt like Macy was trying to get to him there in Denver. On one hand, he was fiercely glad, on the other, he was petrified that time had run out and Siegel had won.

  It was just growing dark when he took the elevator down with Echo and walked to the nearby dog park so the dog could run. The park was empty at this hour, with no other dogs in attendance. The Bull Mastiff made it his mission that evening to mark every twig and fence post as his territory.

  A noise drew him around and he reached for the Glock he had tucked into the waistband of his pants beneath his jacket.

  “Whoa!” Jaxon held up his hands.

  “Are you following me?” He scowled.

  “Hello… psycho has your address, remember?” Jaxon scowled right back and then walked over to lean his tattooed arms on the fence railing.

  “Let him come,” he grunted.

  Jaxon sent him a dark look, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

  “Any news?” Jaxon asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Hayden and Felix had driven the route to Colorado Springs, but still no trace of Macy.

  “Have you heard from Wild?” Jaxon asked.

  “He’s out there combing the streets with Jett and Nathan. They can’t find any record of Macy renting a car or taking a taxi from the bus station in Colorado Springs. They’re still looking through the information. There’s a shit ton of taxis and independent cabs that could have picked him up. Hell, he could have gotten a ride from someone.”

  “You think he’d do that?”

  “No,” he mumbled, gripping the fence.

  “What’s Wild’s gut say?”

  “His gut is telling him that somehow Macy made it here to Denver.”

  “Wild may be right,” Jaxon responded.

  Logan grunted.

  “Don’t think the worst.” Jaxon added. “Macy’s good at avoiding Siegel.”

  He wanted to believe Jaxon’s words.

  Fuck, did he ever, but dread filled his soul the longer Macy was missing.

  Macy

  Shit!

  He dodged to the left and a bullet tore out the cement near his head. Another bullet cleaved into the street sign and people started screaming.

  Macy shoved open the door to a dry cleaning store and jumped over the counter. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled beneath the clothes.

  “You shouldn’t be in here!” the girl behind the counter shouted.

  “Get down!” She screamed when he pulled her to the floor. He hoped to God she stayed there.

  He ran into the back just as the door crashed open. Slamming out the back door and into the alley, he shoved the door closed.

  His leg throbbed like a bitch, but when your own life was at stake, that shit took a back seat. He ran down the alley and jumped, catching the edge of a fire escape and climbed upward. He always lost them when he climbed upward because of his mobility and even though it hurt like a motherfucker, he moved fast.

  The door down the alley crashed open and three men spilled out, two ran one way and one ran in his direction. He kept climbing even when the guy shouted from below.

  Bullets pinged off the metal and a burn started in his side. He gasped and grabbed the bar to keep from toppling over. The window nearest to him was open and he dove through it and came up running.

  A man in the kitchen waved a spoon and yelled at him, but Macy rushed to the front door. Turning the lock, he yanked it open and sped through it. Not to the exit stairs, but the other way. He took several corners until he reached an exit window and climbed out. The fire escape was rickety and rusted, but he climbed it upward. Racing across the building’s roof, he jumped the distance to the next building over. Reaching the access roof door, he twisted on the silencer to his gun and fired at the doorknob. It popped open and he eased inside and shut the door.

  For several long, tense minutes, he stood there regulating his breathing and listening for any sound out of the ordinary. When he heard none, he made his way down the hallway until he reached a dead end and a door marked laundry.

  He shoved at the door, eased inside, and stood listening. With a pounding heart and his ear to the door, he waited and after ten more minutes went by, he finally drew in a deep breath.

  The burn in his side was growing and he glanced down to find the side of his shirt soaking wet. Grimacing, he pulled the material away from the wound and lifted his shirt. Blood pooled down his side, wetting his pants, but thankfully, he hadn’t left a trail.

  Glancing around, he found a cart pushed against one wall with some clothing. He dug through and came up with a towel, which he pressed against the long graze to stem the flow of blood. It could have been a lot fucking worse. Hissing, he clenched his teeth for several moments.

  Holding the cloth against the wound for several long seconds, he swayed. With shaking fingers, he slipped the weight of his backpack from his shoulders and carried it to the end of the room. A small space between the wall and the last washer caught his eye and he wedged himself into it so he was facing forward.

  They surely thought he’d taken the stairs.

  He was so freaking tired of running.

  Suck it up, buttercup! He pressed his hand back against his side.

  On the run for several days, he’d had the brilliant idea of coming to Denver. By his calculations, he was minutes away from Logan’s building and instant regret made his eyes burn.

  He should have stayed in Colorado Springs. At least there, Siegel had no idea where he was. Here, though, Siegel had the Cobalt Security address from the letter.

  Talk about stupid! Of course, they’d be here.

  Okay, so he’d made the wrong move and needed to reassess. It was as easy as that. He grimaced and tipped his head against the wall behind him. He needed to forget about the crazy idea that if he could get to Logan, everything would be all right. It was getting dark. He’d wait until morning to make his move.

  He closed his eyes, just needing to catch his breath and then he’d make a plan, but every time he closed his eyes, the time he’d spent with Logan ran like a movie reel behind his eyelids.

  “No way.” Logan had shaken his head.

  Macy perched his hands on his waist and cocked one hip. “Chicken?”

  “What? No!” Logan growled.

  Macy smirked and performed a perfect dancer’s pirouette. “It’s easy, I’ll show you.”

  Walking on the balls of his feet, he approached the balance beam. Bracing his chalked-up hands, he hopped up and balanced with both feet, arms out. Tossing Logan a look from beneath his lashes, he walked quickly on the beam and tossed his bo
dy forward. Without even using his hands, he completed a front somersault and landed back on the beam.

  Arms outstretched, he spun to face the other way. “See? Easy peasy.”

  No response.

  He glanced over and found Logan leaning against a nearby wall with a hot gaze running over him.

  Macy sashayed barefoot across the beam. Reaching the end, he lunged forward, twisted, and landed perfectly on the mat.

  “How’d you learn to do that?”

  “Gymnastics.” He crooked a finger, motioning Logan to come closer.

  The man shook his head and crossed his arms against a ripped chest.

  “You said you wanted to try.”

  “I did not.” A furrow appeared between Logan’s brows and he itched to smooth it away. “When you told me you had to work out, I thought you meant a gym.”

  “This is a gym.” Macy blinked down at the sexy hunk.

  “You know what kind of gym I thought you meant.” Logan uncrossed his arms and waved a hand at the room filled with gymnastic equipment. “Treadmills, weight sets.”

  “Oh…yes. Accessories. God forbid you actually use your body without aid.”

  “I’ll show you aid.” Logan’s tone had been full of teasing and promise when he suddenly lunged away from the wall.

  Macy squeaked and ran toward the uneven bars, laughing loudly. He leaped high, catching the lower bar, and swung until he could grab onto the upper bar. Once there, he turned and sat sideways on the bar.

  Logan stood beneath him, squinting up at him.

  “What’s the matter?” Macy clicked his tongue.

  Logan had thrown up his hands and lost the battle to hold back his amusement. The sound of the man’s deep laugh sent a thrill through Macy.

  “How long have you done gymnastics?”

  “Forever.” He’d kept his response vague and swung backwards, hanging by the back of his knees, then caught the lower bar before landing on the mat.

  Stalking up to Logan, he’d expected him to move back, but he hadn’t, the man stayed right where he was.

  Craning his neck, Macy gazed up into Logan’s handsome face. “You’re very attractive.”

  Logan choked on his own spit.

  That had sent Macy into gales of laughter while patting the man’s back.

  “I’m ages older than you,” Logan grumbled.

  Macy found his giggles dying down at the seriousness in Logan’s voice.

  He narrowed his eyes and poked a finger in Logan’s chest. The contact had the man’s eyes going wide. He poked his chin out and glared up into Logan’s face.

  “If age is such a big deal, why do you keep coming around?”

  “I … don’t know.”

  “Pssht! Of course, you don’t,” he snorted and pursed his lips. “It couldn’t be because of this, now could it?” He waved a hand down his sleek body in tight spandex pants and matching shirt of blue. It showed off every curve of his body and displayed his package nicely, if he did say so himself.

  “Um,” Logan cleared his throat. “That’s…possibly part of it.”

  “You know what I think?” He drew his bottom lip between his teeth.

  “I’m afraid to ask.” Logan’s eyes twinkled.

  “I think you’re using age as an excuse to not get involved,” he sing-songed and spun to give Logan a nice view of his backside.

  “So says the man who doesn’t share anything.” The reply had been barely audible, but Macy had heard Logan’s mumble and sighed.

  It had been one of many conversations they’d had that stuck in his head and even though he remained elusive and didn’t share much about himself, he’d found out as much as possible about Logan. If he ever got out of this mess, he was going to do better at understanding Logan. After all, it took two to argue.

  The door to the laundry door banged opened, jogging him from the past, and he lifted his hands to his mouth to stifle any sound.

  Shoes clicked across the floor. A washer door opened and then clothes were transferred to a dryer. Coins dropped into the dispenser and then the door opened and closed, leaving the rumble of the dryer behind.

  The sound soothed him into resting his eyes for a moment. It was a hell of a lot longer than a moment when he groggily blinked his eyes opened. He realized the dryer had stopped and the tiny window over the vending machine showed a patch of morning light.

  The ache in his side let him know the bullet wound had dried and stuck to his shirt. At least, he wasn’t bleeding out. How the hell was he going to find the energy to get up and walk out of there? And where the hell could he go if he did?

  He pulled the burner cell phone out of his backpack and opened it.

  For the hundredth time over the past few days, he scrolled to the only number listed. He hadn’t called it. Did a bullet wound count as desperate measures? Was the person on the other end friend or foe?

  Stanton had assured him that the man who would answer that phone number would help him without question.

  Pressing the number before he passed out, he held the phone up to his ear.

  “Marshal Mac Mackenzie.”

  Macy swallowed hard, tears blurred his vision, and any chance of speaking got caught in the lump growing in his throat.

  “Hello?” the man’s deep voice said.

  Logan

  “Morning, boss. Morning, biker dude,” Hayden said when he and Jaxon walked into the command center the next morning.

  Jaxon had slept on the small couch in his office despite his arguing that he was fine in his own damned building. He’d crashed in the bed, if he could even call what he’d done last night sleeping. He’d tossed and turned all hours of the night and knew by Jaxon’s concerned look that he looked like shit.

  “Grow up.” Jaxon rolled his eyes.

  “I am grown up. In fact, I’m having Hitch pull up some information that I think you’ll both find interesting.”

  Hitch smiled and tapped at the computer.

  “What’s up?” Logan hurried over to check out the data on the computer.

  “I’ve been thinking.” Hayden tipped his head.

  “Well, that’s dangerous.” Jaxon smirked and Hayden flipped the man the finger.

  “What if Macy walked a few miles away from the train station in Colorado Springs before catching a cab or car?” Hayden said, turning to him.

  “You mean, like he caught a cab from a nearby hotel or restaurant?” He frowned.

  “Yes. Another possibility is he caught a hotel van out of the bus station.”

  “I checked all the hotel vans leaving the bus station already,” Hitch said.

  “Okay.” Hayden tapped at his chin. “Did you check cars picking up at any surrounding hotels?” Hayden asked the cute techie.

  “It is plausible.” Logan scratched his fingers at the stubble growing on his jaw.

  “I’ll widen my search,” Hitch said, fingers flying over the keyboard. The young man had been a rock through this whole thing. The guy worked data like it was his bitch and if Hitch hadn’t already been an FBI agent, Logan would have hired him on the spot.

  “And here it is,” Hitch crowed, pointing at the screen. “Mark Gleason rented a car from a Hyatt Hotel.”

  “Get me the GPS on that rental,” Alexander said, approaching with a cup of coffee.

  “On it,” Hitch said under his breath. “It drove from Colorado Springs to Denver yesterday.” Hitch rattled off the time.

  Denver. Macy was here in Denver.

  “Get on the phone to Wild. Have him, Jett, and Nathan head back this way,” Logan said, taking a deep, relieved breath. It was the first sign of life they had had and his eyes burned.

  Hayden jumped on the phone, and Logan moved to the desk he’d taken over and sat in the chair. Blinking his burning eyes, he turned to gaze out the window at the Denver skyline. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, but he missed the beauty of it.

  His cell phone rang and he grabbed it from the desk and brought it to his e
ar.

  “Cobalt.”

  “Logan?” a deep voice asked.

  “Yes?” He straightened up and turned his chair around.

  “It’s Mac Mackenzie.”

  He jerked to his feet and the room snapped to attention. He’d worked with US Marshal Mac Mackenzie on a joint operation along with Phoenix, the FBI, and US Marshals. He’d been to the man’s house for a New Year’s celebration.

  “Mac, good to hear from you. What’s going on?”

  “I’m on the phone with Macy Finch. He says he knows and trusts you and would like you to give him a ride.”

  Joy and relief made his chest hurt. He shoved his chair aside and came around the desk.

  “Where is he?”

  “That’s the thing, he’s in Denver, but can’t tell me exactly where he’s at. I don’t want to hang up because he sounds like he’s going to pass out.”

  “Is he calling from a burner phone?”

  “Yes. It was given to him by US Marshal James Stanton.”

  “Not a smartphone?”

  Mac huffed. “No, I already asked.”

  “Does he know a nearby street at least?” His brain was going a mile a fucking minute.

  “No,” Mac said. “But he has the serial number of the burner phone.”

  Logan spun to Hitch. “Get me the location of that burner phone.”

  Hitch’s fingers flew over the keys once Mac rattled off the number. “He’s at the corner of North Broadway and Larimer Street.”

  “Mac? Tell him we’re about ten minutes away.”

  Logan called Echo and at the stress in his voice, the Bull Mastiff went into high alert. His dog was very attuned to his worry.

  Logan stayed on the phone to keep the lines of communication open with both Macy and Mac.

  “Is he hurt?”

  “He took a bullet,” Mac answered gruffly.

  Fear leant him speed as he took the stairs upward to his office and rummaged through his dresser for the shirt that was Macy’s. He again used the stairs to run back down so he wouldn’t risk losing reception in the elevator. Reaching the parking level, he jumped in Jaxon’s jeep with Jaxon behind the wheel and Hayden in the back seat.