by SE Jakes
“Definitely.”
“The way I grew up…I kept to myself. Not at first. I was too trusting and then I lost that.”
“And I’m sure the military and the CIA really made you soft and cuddly again,” Cole said, with just the right trace of sarcasm in his voice.
“You think I’m soft and cuddly?”
“Totally.” Cole rolled his eyes. “Retraction—I think you are, under all that gruff shit.”
“Yeah, well, I think the same of you.”
“I’m not gruff.”
“No. You’re a complete wiseass.”
“You don’t seem to mind,” Cole pointed out, since Marcus’s arm was in place like a steel band, holding him there. Urging him closer.
“I happen to speak wiseass,” Marcus informed him.
Chapter Thirteen
Marcus was pacing. Running his hands through his hair. Mumbling to himself. Every once in a while, he’d snap his fingers and then shake his head and start the whole process all over.
Cole stretched on the couch, still trying to process what happened last night, all while hiding behind a movie marathon of The Fast and the Furious.
Finally, Marcus did stop talking to himself and dialed his phone instead. “Yeah, what you think? Prince? Yeah, yeah.”
There was some military-like speak in there, stuff he recognized from movies but really had no clue what it meant. All Cole knew was that Marcus moved in the same way all three of the guys who owned Phoenix, Inc. did, a way that belied their training. And it was a way Cole definitely appreciated.
“Thanks… No, makes it worse. But, hell, now we know what we’re up against, right?” He glanced over at Cole, who made a show of keeping his eyes glued to the TV. “Thanks, man—appreciate it.”
Cole continued to stare at the TV until Marcus’s thighs guided his view instead. He looked up and said, “Hey.”
Marcus crouched down. “Sorry to be all in my head today. I get that way when mulling shit over.”
“Does that include last night?”
Marcus smiled. “Nothing about last night was about work. The phone call was.”
“I want to know.”
Marcus made a motion for Cole to move his legs. Cole did, and Marcus pulled them back down along his lap, his strong hands massaging Cole’s feet. “I want Hooker Headers on my truck.”
“You’re just trying to keep me busy.”
“I’ve plenty of other ways to do that.”
Cole let Marcus take his time with the massage. Because he knew more questions were coming his way, ones that could put the broken pieces of the wall up between them again.
Finally, Marcus said, “The guy who’s after you is probably an agent—most likely FBI. Maybe former military.”
“How do you know?”
“I recognized a few things from the bomb. Everyone’s got a slightly different way of making them, but you can—I can—tell a pro from someone who gets their skills from the Internet. This guy has a signature. Sometimes that can help us trace who he is. So the next question is…”
“You want to know if anyone I fucked seemed like they were military or a fed.”
“Basically, yes.”
Cole closed his eyes and went back to the place he never wanted to go back to. He could picture the room—a cheap motel off the interstate where he took most of his clients. The rooms were paid for by the service, but of course they weren’t going to pay for something more expensive or for any place that might get their escorts arrested. “It was my birthday.” He felt Marcus’s hand squeeze his knee a little harder as if to reassure him.
Cole opened his eyes because he had to see Marcus’s face when he told him this story. “My last birthday was the day that I quit the service and started traveling down to Florida. I’d had two clients already. Normal stuff, nothing sketchy and nothing out of the ordinary. I showered and waited for the new guy to show.”
He looked down at his hands and realized he’d fisted them together. He opened his hands, trying to relax them by rubbing them against his thighs, but there was no way he was going to relax. He decided to just blurt out the rest. “I didn’t remember any of this when you first asked me. I mean, I blocked a lot of it out—it’s not like I have memory loss. But until the pieces started coming together, and you mentioned possible military, I’m thinking the third guy from that day… He was the final straw, and after him, I quit the business…and I think he could be the one who’s following me now.”
Marcus’s eyes were dark with anger, but none of it was directed at Cole. His next words were ground out. “What makes you think it’s him? Did he hurt you?”
“Not like that. Not like you’re thinking.” Cole shook his head. “That’s why I didn’t even think of him.”
“Tell me, Cole. I promise I will make this better.”
Cole took a deep breath. “He wore dog tags. I saw them outlined through his shirt. It was tight and he was pretty built. He had a tattoo that looks kind of military-like but I didn’t recognize it. And he was really nice to me—he actually talked to me. Wanted to know if I was really okay with this, if anyone was forcing me to do this. He told me that he didn’t normally use escorts but that it was just easier for him because he was away so much. Normally, I’d just shut them up, get it over with, you know? I’m looking to get paid, not have a therapy session. But I don’t know—maybe because it was my birthday or the way he spoke to me, but I broke down. I told him I wasn’t being forced, but I couldn’t do it anymore. That it wasn’t him. And he actually smiled. He fucking paid me. And I walked out and I left him sitting on the bed, and I got on my bike and I went back to my shitty apartment, packed all my stuff and headed out.”
He knew what Marcus was going to ask next. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that he didn’t remember the john’s name, that he’d never remembered any of their names because that would’ve made it all too real. And as if Marcus knew what he was thinking, he ran a hand up his calf and said, “Just tell me about the tattoo.”
An hour later, Marcus was staring at a picture he’d drawn with Photoshop on his laptop. He’d hated putting Cole through it, but it hadn’t taken long before Cole told him that the picture on the screen was the man he’d walked out on. They’d started with the tattoo because Marcus figured that would be the easiest. As soon as Cole described it Marcus knew they were talking about a Marine. But there wasn’t anything special or distinctive about the tattoo—there was no platoon number or anything that could distinguish it from thousands of other Marine tattoos, so that wasn’t going to help them.
That’s when Cole sighed resignedly and began describing the Marine. Between Styx and Law and Clint and himself, they had a ton of ways to circulate this picture, but facial recognition was the most secretive. It could take days, even weeks, and that didn’t guarantee a hit. But it was better than anything they’d had so far.
“Doesn’t make sense, Marcus.” Cole sounded frustrated. “The guy was really nice to me. Why would he suddenly start stalking me? If he was that pissed, wouldn’t he have just beaten me up before I left?”
“Stalkers come in all different flavors. That’s the scariest part—you never know what’s going to set one of them off. Maybe you looked like his high school boyfriend. Maybe you weren’t supposed to walk out. Maybe he left you his phone number on one of the bills he paid you with and you never noticed. Or maybe he’s got some kind of God complex and he thinks he saved you.”
“It’s not like Mustang Man was the first customer to hit on me.”
“Maybe it’s the first one he saw.” Marcus scratched his chin. “Maybe it took him a while to find you, Cole. We’re assuming the guy followed you this whole time, but that might not be true.”
Cole nodded pensively. “So, what, I was supposed to pine away for just him or something?”
“If you try to make sense of this, babe, you’ll drive yourself crazy.” Marcus cupped the back of his neck and pulled Cole close. At first, the younger man hesita
ted, but then he settled in, halfway onto Marcus’s lap. “It doesn’t matter why he’s doing it. It has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong.”
Cole nodded. “Ironic that he’s the one that made me quit the business and head this way, right?”
He’d lived a lifetime with Marcus in the few days since Cole had received that first note. Time spent here in the beach house seemed to speed their relationship up and yet time somehow slowed down as well. Because everything was simply focused on the two of them…and them on each other. Whether it was the danger of the situation or the forced close quarters, Cole didn’t know, and for the moment he didn’t care. He’d broken through a wall he’d never thought he’d be able to scale, and it was dangerously close to crumbling completely. How the hell had he gone from hating Marcus to being in the guy’s bed in such a short period of time?
Maybe this was all a fluke. But no…they’d had sex more than once, and it had gotten better each time. And now, Cole lay staring at the ceiling, Marcus’s body flush to his. There had been no question about Cole going to sleep in the guest room since that first night, not when Marcus had put a heavy arm across his chest, keeping him in place. Marcus wanted him, and he made no bones about it. Tonight had been no different.
Before Cole could let himself get pulled into other worries, Marcus started shifting. At first glance, Cole thought he was waking up, but then it became apparent he was dreaming. A long moment later, Cole could easily see it wasn’t a happy dream.
Marcus mumbled into his pillow. Then he turned over, and the mumbling turned into several clipped and cryptic statements. Then a long silence, followed by a soft, stunned declaration of “fucking no”, and then Marcus opened his eyes and stared straight ahead. Whatever he was seeing in his mind’s eye gave him that destroyed expression. Marcus was involved in a deeply personal struggle when he closed his eyes, and it made Cole practically growl with a possessiveness toward Marcus that he hadn’t thought possible. He wanted to protect the man who’d started bringing him back to life…he wanted to keep Marcus’s monsters away.
He started slowly, waited until Marcus seemed to wake a little and his breathing calmed. And then Cole rubbed the back of Marcus’s neck and finally, Marcus turned into him, seeking comfort.
They were both still naked, and the immediate proximity had Cole’s body flaring to life. At first he felt guilty since Marcus had obviously been in the middle of a nightmare…until he noticed that Marcus’s cock had responded pretty quickly as well.
Maybe you can take his mind off things.
Cole believed that Marcus might not even realize that Cole had seen the nightmare. And with that, the protectiveness that had surged minutes earlier was back in full force. Cole reached back and grabbed for condoms and lube, even as his free hand slid to wrap around both his and Marcus’s cocks.
Marcus moaned softly, his face still buried against Cole’s shoulder.
“Yeah. Gonna make you feel better,” Cole murmured against his ear. Marcus’s hips jutted at those words, his pleasure more than obvious. And although Cole wanted to move slowly, he wanted more. Needed that…and he wasn’t about to wait.
He pushed Marcus onto his back and straddled him. Marcus was watching him now, his cheeks flushed with sleep and arousal. Cole grabbed Marcus’s wrists and put his hands close to the slats in the headboard. Understanding, Marcus gripped the lowest slat, remaining immobile and open to Cole.
Cole rolled a condom onto Marcus. For the briefest of seconds, Cole flashed back to his hooking days, but this was such a different experience. Because Cole was getting immediate pleasure from helping Marcus…the arousal had spiked through him to an almost unbearable level. He used his fingers and the lube, opened himself while Marcus watched hungrily, and then he lowered himself onto Marcus’s cock.
“Jesus…Cole,” Marcus groaned when Cole bottomed out on his cock. Cole only paused for a second before he started to move against Marcus, making sure to hit his gland repeatedly.
And although Marcus was letting Cole take the lead, it was clear that Marcus was in to it. He’d depended on Cole to pull him out of whatever he’d dreamed about. And Cole had no problem topping from the bottom. Not that Cole had been passive with Marcus, but now Cole was most definitely in charge, pushing all of Marcus’s buttons…and in turn, all of his own. It was a heady feeling, and he was in this so damned deep with Marcus he wasn’t sure he’d be able to escape unscathed when the time came.
But he refused to let himself go there, instead choosing to focus on the extreme jolts of pleasure making his cock leak. Marcus’s knuckles whitened as he held on tightly to the headboard. Their eyes locked as Cole’s orgasm coiled low in his belly. But Marcus came first, with a loud groan and a curse, his hips finally jutting up hard. And that motion, the look on his face, pushed Cole over the edge, coming in hot spurts on Marcus’s belly until he collapsed onto Marcus’s chest and closed his eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
Styx
For the third night in a row Styx found Law wide-awake in bed and Paolo nowhere to be found.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Styx demanded. “No one sleeps anymore and no one tells me shit. Why are you and Paolo so upset?”
Law stared at him. “I don’t want to sleep because I don’t want to dream. Paolo’s worried about this case.”
“So why isn’t he saying anything to me?”
“He doesn’t like to say anything until he figures out what’s bothering him.”
“I’m going to go get him.”
“Hey, bring me up some ice cream.”
Styx gave Law a smile over his shoulder. He’d do anything for the man—ice cream was easy. But Paolo was not going to be easy.
Styx found him staring out the window facing the woods. He didn’t want to sneak up on the man, so he waited until Paolo turned his head a little and said, “It’s okay, Styx. I know it’s you.”
“Am I losing my touch?”
“I heard Law say ice cream.” Paolo smiled sheepishly as he turned to face him. “I also heard you yelling.”
“Come on—let’s grab some ice cream, go up and sit with Law, and you can tell us what you’re thinking.”
Paolo helped him carry up the ice cream, which Law accepted eagerly. Together, they discussed the information that Marcus had learned. The computer next to Law was running searches, but hell, it could take forever with the sketchy intel they had. And that wasn’t Cole’s fault. Paolo was grateful he was able to give them as much as he had.
“Okay, so let’s say this guy’s actually a Marine, like his tattoo presents him to be,” Paolo started.
“A Marine who also likes to pay for sex,” Law pointed out with his mouth full of ice cream. “That’s not the most upstanding kind of military man. First of all, the uniform gets you laid, so the fact that this guy actually went out of his way to pay for sex means he’s got some kind of issue.”
“Issue, yes. But stalker?” Paolo shook his head. “I’m just not seeing it.”
Even though Paolo didn’t bother to point out that he had the most experience of all of them with stalkers, neither Styx nor Law forgot. “So we’ve got to come up with a new profile. If we’ve been targeting the wrong guy this whole time…”
“Then the right guy’s had plenty of time to plan.” Paolo looked troubled. “I think we should move Marcus in here.”
“I think that’s the worst idea ever,” Law told him before spooning more ice cream into his mouth.
“Just because you hate people—” Paolo started.
“I don’t hate you,” he said to Paolo. And then he motioned to Styx. “Or him. Most of the time.” And then he shifted so Styx couldn’t grab him.
“You are just itching for it, aren’t you?” Styx asked.
“Isn’t that obvious?” Law said.
“Yes,” Styx and Paolo said in unison.
“Thanks to fucking God, because I was getting ready to dance around naked.”
Styx sat back aga
inst the pillows. “Don’t let us stop you.” And then he glanced over at Paolo, who was actually smiling. “But before that happens, Paolo, you should call Marcus and talk with him about this. I’d like to get his take on it. Maybe Cole’s too.”
And then he sat up straight, snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute. There’s something…the day I was there, right before the note showed up, Cole almost got into a fight with another mechanic. I figured it was just territorial pissing, you know? Fighting over a customer. Plus, Cole’s kind of a hothead and I know how that goes.” He looked pointedly at Law, as did Paolo.
“You can all stop looking at me,” Law told them. “Or you’re not getting that dance.”
Paolo
Paolo had gone downstairs to get Law more ice cream—he claimed that dancing made him hungry—when a movement on the back lawn made him still in the downstairs hallway. He moved quietly, opening the hall closet by pressing the code without taking his eyes off the back lawn and pulling his weapon out.
“Where’s my ice cream?” Law asked from behind him in a stage whisper. Good thing Paolo had heard him coming or he would’ve shot the fucking floor.
“There’s someone on the property.” Paolo took his weapon from its holster and began walking towards the back door. Law stopped him, a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Get the fuck off, Law.”
“You got nothing to prove.”
“I know that, dickhead.”
Law snorted, then looked out the back window. “There’s someone back there.”
Paolo fought an eye-roll. Styx came into the kitchen at that point and called to them, “There’s someone on the property.”
“Oh for the love of God,” Paolo muttered. He shook off Law’s hand and slid out the back door quietly. He figured the two numbnuts would follow shortly, and rather than keep himself in the possible line of fire, he opted instead to run toward the woods. He heard the rustle as if the intruder was running away from him. Paolo picked up speed, but just as suddenly the noise stopped.
“The guy just fucking disappeared.”