by SE Jakes
Cole wasn’t exactly thrilled with the answer to his question, although he did agree that moving into a house with three weapons experts and Marcus would serve to protect him well. So sometime after two that morning, after driving for an extra hour in case there were any tails, Marcus led him through the attached garage and into Paolo, Styx and Law’s kitchen.
Cole felt like an idiot, of course. These men were already protecting him for free and now he was completely freeloading off all of them.
All three men were up and waiting for them. Styx took his bag and Paolo asked how he was doing.
“Sorry to intrude like this” was all he could think of to say.
“You’re not.” Paolo spoke so firmly that Cole chose to believe him. Except the look on Law’s face told a different story. Law was still standoffish, just like he’d been to Cole every time he’d visited the garage, disapproving—even although that last part might be Cole’s conscience talking.
“I’m just going to head to bed, okay?” Cole told Paolo, who in turn led him to a bedroom where Marcus and Styx already were.
“We’ll be secure in here,” Marcus said. “There’s only one small window and it’s got bulletproof glass.”
Cole didn’t want to ask why the windows in this house were bulletproof, but he supposed all of these men were too suspicious for their own good. For that, he was grateful. “Sounds good to me. I’m a little tired.”
Styx nodded at him. “Treat this like you would your home. I know this is a rough time for you, Cole, but please know we wouldn’t have asked you guys to stay if we didn’t want you here.”
Cole waited until Styx left and closed the door behind him before telling Marcus, “Law can’t stand me.”
“That’s not true. Law is just extra suspicious, especially around anybody trying to get close to his guys.”
“I’m not trying to get ‘close to his guys’,” Cole said, hearing the defensiveness in his own tone. “Like I said, I’m just tired.”
“Come on and get into bed.” Marcus pulled down the comforter, and Cole crawled in gratefully.
He wasn’t even sure if Marcus had gotten into the bed before he closed his eyes—stress sleep, most likely—but he was wide awake two hours later. He didn’t want to wake Marcus, and he noticed there were lights on in the hall, so he carefully went down the stairs and into the kitchen to find something to appease his growling stomach.
His head was in the fridge when he heard Law’s voice behind him. “Do you always roam strange houses in the middle of the night? Because that’s a good way to get yourself shot.”
“Is that a threat?” He hadn’t turned from the refrigerator, only doing so after he’d found the makings for some sandwiches. When he went to the table he noted that Law did indeed have his gun next to him.
“Fact.”
Cole tried his best to look unimpressed, although it was hard in the face of Law and his gun. While Cole found Marcus intimidating, it had been tempered by Marcus’s obvious attraction to him. There was none of that with Law. There was only suspicion, bordering on what looked like complete distaste. And it would be foolish to think that Law didn’t know about his past. “Want a sandwich?”
“I’m good.” But Law made no move to leave the table. And even though Cole had completely lost his appetite, he still made the sandwich and forced himself to eat it. “By the way, there’s a shelter on King Street.”
He glanced up at Law, his stomach roiling. “I don’t need a shelter.” But it came out as more of a question, because maybe it was a suggestion Law was giving him.
Law stared at him steadily. “It’s ours. We run it. So if you know anyone in trouble, send them there.”
Cole wanted to say something sarcastic, but nothing came out. Instead, he nodded, put his dish in the dishwasher and went upstairs to Marcus, his head spinning.
What would Cole have done if that had been available for him back in the day? Things might’ve been so different. And even though he didn’t like to dwell on the past, the whole thing made him sad for time lost. He climbed into bed next to Marcus, unable to bite back a sob that would wake Marcus as he thought about that and the kind way Marcus treated him. Marcus had given him back his dignity.
For a long time, Cole hadn’t felt like he was worth anything, but after he’d explained that to Marcus, Marcus murmured to him that he was wrong. “You were never not worth it. You’re a survivor, in my book.”
“Guess you’d know about that.”
Marcus ran a hand through Cole’s hair. “You weren’t the only one who was broken.”
Chapter Eighteen
Things didn’t get any better with Law over the next few days. The nightly scene repeated itself, and even though Cole knew that Law was running shelters, it didn’t mean that Cole was any more comfortable around him.
But he was dealing with it, because he wasn’t seeing Law during the day. But that changed one morning when he went out to the side carport area, which had to be passed through before anyone could get to the garage, to get some air. He figured he’d be okay there—he was half-hidden by pillars, with a good view of the front and backyards. Law’s bike was also parked underneath it.
Cole took a deep breath of fresh air and almost choked when Law said, “What the fuck are you doing out here?”
“Dammit, you scared the hell out of me.” Cole shook his head, his pulse jolted. Law didn’t say anything, just crossed his arms, waiting for an answer to his question.
Cole sighed. “I’m going stir-crazy.”
“Did you tell anyone you were coming outside? I’m guessing no, since none of them would’ve let you.”
Cole stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Law. Wanting to punch him, actually, which would be a very bad idea since his partners were giving Cole a free ride. But he couldn’t stop his mouth. “You and Marcus are a lot alike.”
“Somehow I’m thinking that’s not entirely a compliment, even if you are screwing him,” Law said casually.
Cole turned to face Law—the guy hadn’t moved, but he also hadn’t blinked. “A real goddamned Dick—maybe you could put that on your Phoenix, Inc. business cards.”
“Yes,” Law agreed, much in the same way Marcus had done. “But fiercely fucking loyal to people I love.”
It was both a warning and a promise.
“I’m not out to hurt them,” Cole protested.
“You’re a lot more like me and Marcus than you realize.”
Yeah, Cole had noticed that too and still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “And?”
“Just an observation.”
Christ. He turned his back and glanced around. Heard a soft chuckle behind him. He asked “what?” over his shoulder.
“I may be an asshole, but you trust me.”
“How’s that?”
“You turned your back on me.”
“Asshole,” Cole muttered. He stomped away from Law and his stupid grin. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he might have a chance to become a part of their tight-knit extended family—or what that meant. Or if it only extended to when and if he and Marcus were together, or until the job was over, and then what? Right back to where he started. Alone.
Which sucked…but would suck worse after having this family and then losing it. Which is why he was pissed he let himself connect in the first place.
As he turned away, something about Law’s bike caught his eye. He’d only been permitted to touch it once when it was something beyond Law’s ability to fix on his own—and with Law breathing down his goddamn neck the entire time—but now he zeroed in on something. Maybe it was the angle and maybe it was a stray leaf or some shit like that, or hell, maybe Law rigged his own bike to explode but…
He edged closer. Bent a little, used his penlight and saw the wires.
He didn’t hear Law come up behind him, and he jumped a little at Law’s voice when he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“When was the last time you rode this?” Cole asked
.
“Late last night.”
Jesus. Either it happened overnight or Law had been playing Russian roulette and neither option was a very good one. He pointed. Law looked over his shoulder toward the bomb nestled under metal and swore loudly.
“Fuck me.” Without looking at him, Law said, “Go inside and grab Marcus for me, will you?”
Cole didn’t wait—he moved quickly, going inside and calling for Marcus as he hit the door. It was probably something in his voice that made all three men—Marcus, Styx and Paolo—assemble in the front hallway. “Law’s outside. There’s a bomb strapped to his bike.”
Marcus moved by him, clapping a hand on his shoulder before he walked out the door. “Are you okay?”
“Just help Law” was all Cole told him. He watched both Marcus and Styx head to the driveway. Paolo pulled him inside the house a bit and closed the front door.
“It’s all right, Cole,” Paolo assured him. And Cole knew that the bomb wasn’t the issue. The two men could easily defuse that, but the question remained in his mind—what if Law hadn’t noticed it this morning? Or would he have?
“This is getting on my goddamned nerves,” Law announced after the bomb was defused and lying on the kitchen table in front of them. “How is this guy just disappearing? He’s as good as…”
He trailed off as he stared at Styx and pointed accusingly.
“Fuck me,” Styx said slowly.
“Later,” Law said. “We’re dealing with a spook. And shit’s about to get ugly.”
“My stalker’s a spy?” Cole repeated. “That’s really fucking bad.”
Marcus nodded. “It’s like having the king of stalkers.”
Cole groaned, dropped his head into his hands.
“It’s okay, Cole,” Paolo reassured him.
“It’s not. I keep putting you directly in danger,” Cole practically shouted.
“Calm down, princess,” Law said.
Styx stopped behind Law. “That’s usually my nickname for you.”
Law rolled his eyes. “I’ll save the glass slippers for later.”
“Cole, this is actually a good thing, okay?” Styx tried to assure him further.
But Cole knew it wasn’t. Still, he nodded, then turned and left, going out the back—which was admittedly stupid, and Marcus caught up with him anyway.
He felt Marcus’s strong hand on his shoulder, heard the man’s demand of “turn around or I’ll carry you back inside.”
“Fuck off.” He turned, shrugging Marcus’s hand off of him. “If I ever got one of them hurt or killed…if I ever took them away from one another…I’d never forgive myself. Assholes, all of you. I’m not taking on that shit.”
He stormed back inside feeling trapped as hell. Because he was.
Chapter Nineteen
“He’s going to run—I feel it,” Paolo said.
Marcus agreed, which was why he wasn’t taking his eyes off the camera, which showed Cole lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I can practically hear the wheels in his head turning.”
“But this shit? It’s not fair to him,” Styx countered.
“Now you think of that?” Law asked.
“I wasn’t thinking. I was in the fix-it mode,” Styx said.
“We all were,” Marcus agreed. Getting Cole to forgive him was one thing. Trying it now would only seem a transparent way to keep him in the house. “I fucked this up.”
“We all did,” Paolo told them all. “But he’s safe. There is no great way to handle it. But letting our guards down now…”
He trailed off. They all knew the statistics, what happened when the stalkers’ prey got tired of running or thought they could go it alone. This was the critical time.
“How could none of us have noticed him?” Law asked. “That bomb had to be wired. It wouldn’t have taken long, but fuck, are we going soft?”
Styx considered that quietly for a long moment. “I think we need to check the perimeter alarms. Now. Marcus, you okay to stay with Cole?”
There was no place Marcus would rather be at the moment. But when he went into the room they were sharing, he found Cole the most agitated he’d ever seen him. He was practically vibrating with anger and pain, and yes, he’d pulled out a bag but was too wound up to even pack.
Marcus approached him carefully. “Cole…”
Cole whirled on him. “You know…I get it, okay? I understand all of it. I’m not some stupid street kid. But all this trust shit, acting like you’ve accepted me—it’s got to stop. Because we can just treat this like what it is. I don’t expect anything from any of you once this is all done. I’m not even paying you, and still you’re all putting your lives on the line for me. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
Marcus was still reeling from the sucker punch of Cole’s statement that he didn’t expect anything from anyone. “What if I want you to expect something from me?”
“Why? So I’ll stay in line, listen to you and stay in this house forever?”
“No, that’s not why.” He stopped. Cole wasn’t going to believe that. Instead, Marcus sat down on the side of the bed that was empty and then lay down next to Cole. “I’m so pissed at you. Until you, dammit—you, not your case, but you—I’ve never wanted to protect someone more in my life for the most selfish reason. I want you here for me.”
There was still so much they didn’t know, still more trusting left to do and bridges to cross. But this…this was the start.
Cole was literally on him, straddling him, arms on either side of Marcus’s head as he bent forward. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to. The look in his eyes… Yeah, Marcus felt a wave of relief wash over him, especially when Cole brought his mouth down on Marcus’s. And it went from that to I need you naked now in about five seconds. Hands scrabbled. Clothes flew.
And then they heard the applause.
Cole started and Marcus sighed, muttered some curses then yelled, “Turn that fucking camera off. Assholes.”
A wolf whistle sailed up the stairs. “Too bad—we were going to sell it and call it The Men of Phoenix, Inc.—Part One.”
He glanced at Cole, and for a second he worried that Cole might be sensitive about what was most definitely a joke. But Cole was smiling. “Think they really turned the camera off?”
“With those guys, who knows?”
Cole shrugged and stripped all the way out of his jeans. When they didn’t hear anything at all from downstairs, he said, “I kind of miss the applause.”
Marcus laughed and flipped Cole to his back, palming his cock.
Cole arched up into his hand. “Yeah, Marcus. Hurry.”
“We need lube.”
At his words, the door opened and a bottle of lube sailed through the air. Marcus caught it and looked back as he heard raucous laughter. Paolo stuck his head in, his hand over his eyes. “I’m not looking—just apologizing for these two. They’re children. Given their advanced ages, you’d think they’d have more sense.”
The laughing stopped, and even with his eyes covered, Paolo smirked, the expression of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. “Gotta run.”
And he meant that—literally. In seconds, there was the sound of heavy feet. Some muffled thumps. Paolo would give them a good chase, but in the end Styx and Law would win.
Cole was listening, his eyes wide when he heard a bark of a command, followed by sounds of the struggle. Then there was the muffled sound of a slap on bare skin and a low cry that was so full of need. Marcus watched Cole’s face carefully all the while.
“Don’t worry. He does that on purpose.”
Cole stared at him. “They hit him?”
“Spanking. That’s what it sounds like to me. And he likes that a lot.”
Cole raised his brows. He was still hard and he shifted under Marcus. “You do that?”
Marcus trapped him, moving his face inches from Cole’s. “You want to lie across my lap, or over the bed? Or on all fours and let me take my hand to your ass?
”
As if to punctuate the question, Paolo’s moans drifted over them after a series of thumps, and it assured Cole that yes, that was exactly what he wanted. Sure, a couple of johns had given him a few swats while fucking him, but that had been back when he’d still answered to Jax—the name he’d been born with. Even then, he hadn’t been into that scene, and neither were his clients. And now he’d shed that name along with his former profession. “I don’t want to decide how it happens though. I want you to make that decision.”
Marcus didn’t pause or make him feel stupid. Instead, he hauled Cole up and over his lap. Cole found his hard cock pressed against Marcus’s thigh. He felt vulnerable and nervous and awkward, and then Marcus’s palm hit his ass, followed by a second and a third slap, and then he lost himself inside the hot, dirty burn. He wasn’t aware of how loud he was—how hard he’d come—until he came to on his belly on the bed, with Marcus rubbing his back. “Baby, that was…”
Cole blinked. He’d never come like that. “Shit. Was I loud?”
Marcus nodded. “So are they. They don’t care, Cole. If there’s one thing they understand, it’s sex. Good sex.”
Cole nodded. He never really thought of himself as having a lot of inhibitions but he’d been wrong.
When he’d been hooking, he’d been bold and not given a shit. Cole was actually surprisingly innocent. Having Marcus be involved in so many first times, ones he never thought he’d have back, was probably the greatest gift he’d gotten.
Chapter Twenty
Paolo
Styx almost caught him on the way to the third floor—Paolo had been cornered, unable to go down, so his only hope of escape was the third-floor attic, where he could lock himself in.
Or let himself get caught. Eventually. But first, the chase. Because it was fun to throw taunts about “old men huffing and puffing to keep up” as he skirted them. As Law’s hand nearly closed on his biceps, Paolo ducked and rolled out of the narrow hallway and into one of the bedrooms, locking the door behind him. He leaned his full body weight against it, wondering if they’d actually kick the door down while they had other people staying in the house.