No Boundaries

by SE Jakes

  Cole desperately wanted to ask if they’d caught him, but he knew that they hadn’t. Because Marcus would’ve said that first thing.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Even though Cole was rousing, thanks to the meds Styx had on hand, Marcus insisted they call an ambulance. As the EMTs checked Cole out under Marcus’s and Styx’s watchful gaze, Paolo talked to the police.

  “He’ll be okay,” the EMT was saying. “We could take him in for observation, but you reversed the drug’s effects, and all the hospital would do is keep him under observation.”

  “With this asshole still out there, I want him close,” Styx said tightly, and Marcus agreed, even though the guilt of how this happened washed over him.

  At that moment, Cole moved his lips, and Marcus moved closer to catch the soft words.

  “I know who he is.”

  That was the only good thing to come out of this, and it had been far too close a call for Marcus to be anything resembling happy. “Good, Cole. Let’s get you through this and then you can tell us everything you remember,” Marcus soothed him, fighting the urge to ask questions.

  And then Cole asked, “Julian?”

  Marcus understood immediately. “We think this guy followed you and Law to the hospital—or he traced you. But Law’s at the hospital with Julian. He’s fine.”

  Marcus’s gut churned. If Julian was the guy’s “new” target, then he was no doubt ready to get rid of Cole, who’d be considered the “old” one.

  “Thanks,” Cole whispered.

  He kept contact with Cole, putting his hands on Cole’s shoulders, telling him, “This won’t happen again. Know that.”

  Cole nodded.

  “Good. The EMTs are going to take your vitals again. Rest. When you’re ready, we’ll go over everything.”

  Cole squeezed his hand and fell off to sleep again. Marcus and Styx watched his breathing go from shallow to normal within a half an hour. The EMTs stayed longer than they normally would’ve, thanks to their connection with the Phoenix, Inc. men. The police were also going over things with Paolo.

  Marcus stood from where he’d been semikneeling by the couch and walked a few steps away as the realization of what almost happened hit him like a Mack fucking Truck.

  “Marcus, we’ll get him.” Styx touched his shoulder.

  Marcus glanced over to where Cole was lying on the couch, the EMTs checking his pressure. He looked handsome and oh-so vulnerable, especially with the bruise marks circling both forearms and wrists.

  Those marks made Marcus flinch. “He was close. So goddamned close, and I should’ve stayed close. Sat in the fucking garage with him.”

  “He told you to go. He’s a grown man. He was in our house,” Styx said.

  “We can’t protect him.”

  “Yes we can. And we will. We got to him in time,” Styx reasoned.

  “I’m done hiding,” Cole said from behind them, his voice a little woozy. “This isn’t anyone’s fault. Marcus, please…”

  Marcus’s fists tightened as he listened to Cole’s reasoning. Then he turned and went to Cole, knelt by the couch. “I want to protect you.”

  “You have—you do.” Cole swallowed, licked his lips. Marcus held up water for him, and Cole drank greedily. “Thanks. Better.”

  “Good. Just rest, okay?”

  “I need you to stop blaming yourself. Blame that asshole, but not yourself.”

  Marcus took the fact that Cole was cursing as a good sign. He’d rather have Cole pissed than scared, if forced to choose between the two.

  Slowly, agonizingly so, the feeling came back into Cole’s extremities, allowing him to move. First it was his fingers that began to tingle and then it was his toes, and then a whole hand and an arm and then his calves. Everything started pins and needles from the outside and worked its way in. The ability to wiggle his toes was infinitely far more comfortable than it should be. When he could stand, he did, with Marcus at his side, even as Marcus insisted he should still be lying down, resting.

  “Fuck that. No,” Cole told him.

  “Stubborn,” Marcus muttered, but he couldn’t hold back his smile. “How about if I lie down next to you?”

  “How about you fuck me?” At Cole’s words, there was a deep, almost primal rumble that came from Marcus’s chest. He was well aware that Styx, Law and Paolo could hear every word, and he didn’t care. It almost made him bolder.

  “Jesus, Cole…”

  “I need you to touch me,” Cole demanded. “I won’t go to sleep—not real, nondrugged sleep—with that memory. I need you to fix that. And you can.”

  He stared into Marcus’s eyes, willing the man to agree…to still want him. Because that was as damned important as needing the bad shit washed away.

  After a long moment, Marcus’s eyes remained gentle with concern but his voice was low and growly when he spoke. “I’ll take you to bed. And I’ll touch you. Fuck you. I’ll give you what you need, and you will not fucking panic with me.” It was a command. It was exactly what Cole needed, what he needed to hear.

  All he could do was nod, and Marcus growled, “Good. Let’s go.”

  Cole let Marcus guide him, a hand on his lower back. There was no explanation to the other men, and they simply watched with semibemused expressions. They’d keep guard tonight, and that would allow Cole to let go.

  Once they were alone in the room where he’d always felt safest, Marcus steered him to the bed. Cole’s legs hit the bed, but he stayed standing, mainly because Marcus was pretty much holding him up.

  “Take your shirt off,” Marcus told him, and he did, the sluggish feeling that’d been dogging him for hours was finally wearing off. His skin was tingling, but for different reasons. “Jeans next. Strip for me.”

  Cole shimmied out of his jeans and boxer briefs, kicking them away, slightly unsteadily. But Marcus’s hands were holding him firmly. He leaned his head back against Marcus’s chest, wanting the man to throw him down and take him.

  And he might’ve said that last part out loud.

  “You’re mistaken if you think you’re the one giving the orders,” Marcus said, a bit of actual laughter in his tone. “Shower first.”

  He let Marcus take him into the bathroom, where it was Marcus’s turn to strip and then put them both under the warm spray. The water drummed a thousand soft drops on his skin, soothing him. Marcus held him close, moved the washcloth along Cole’s back, rubbing it in lazy circles. Then he washed Cole’s hair, touching the pressure points along his scalp to try to relax him. All the while, the suds were washing away the scent of the man who’d violated him, maybe more than he’d ever been, until all he could smell was fresh soap and Marcus.

  Marcus, who was now spending time between Cole’s legs, gently but firmly cleaning Cole’s cock, then getting on his knees and sucking it down his throat. Cole grabbed the towel bar for support as everything bad started to recede, replaced by white-hot jolts of pleasure.

  “Marcus, I’m going to…”

  Marcus let Cole slide out of his mouth. “Don’t” was his simple command before his tongue played in the slit on the head of Cole’s cock. Cole stiffened and groaned as Marcus pushed his tongue hard, like he was fucking that little hole and if Cole held the towel bar any tighter he’d pull it off the goddamned wall.

  “Now you can come,” Marcus said, his tone lazy, right before he took Cole in his mouth again. At that, Cole came immediately, shooting down Marcus’s throat, unable to look away as Marcus swallowed everything, and continued sucking…so much so that Cole was semihard again once they got out of the shower.

  Marcus wrapped him in a towel and practically carried him to the bed. He pushed Cole to sit, then toweled him off, making sure to wrap a dry towel around his shoulders when he was done.

  And then he took Cole’s arm gently and stared at it. For a second, Cole almost lost it, felt the familiar panic threaten.

  Marcus stared at him, shook his head. “What did I say?”

  “Not to
panic.”

  “Then don’t. I’m going to fix this, then fuck you deaf, blind and dumb.” With that, Marcus began to kiss the bracelet of bruises circling various parts of Marcus’s wrists and forearms. Immediately, Cole forgot the panic, mesmerized by the new, pleasurable pain of Marcus sucking his skin hard, suckling the bruises, circling them, covering them with his marks until all Cole could see were the hickeys that his lover gave him.

  Once again, Marcus was taking away the bad the best way he knew how.

  Cole let himself be manipulated by Marcus’s strong arms. The sucking and biting were lulling him into a near trance, and by the time he blinked, Marcus had him lying on his belly, cheek on the pillow, so comfortable he could fall asleep.

  Except for his stiff cock that definitely needed attention. “Marcus, I need…”

  “I know, baby. Trust me, I know.”

  Cole’s breath caught as Marcus’s cock slid back and forth between his ass cheeks. He was so full of need, his body started to shake as if it would come apart. Like the blood was traveling too fast in his veins, his heart pounding in his ears, an out-of-control jetliner careening across the sky.

  “Marcus!” Because even if this wasn’t going to be a forever thing, at this moment all Cole wanted was to pretend that it was. Marcus had erased all those nameless, faceless men he’d fucked along the way and now he was asking Marcus to erase his attack.

  Marcus gripped his hips, pulled him to his knees and entered him. Cole barely managed to get up onto his elbows before Marcus’s weight pushed him balls deep into Cole’s ass. He froze, letting himself adjust to Marcus’s girth and length, both of which were considerable. And then Marcus’s hand was reaching around, palming Cole’s cock…taking away the other man’s touch. Making him fly. Soar.

  He was aware he was yelling, but it didn’t matter. Marcus rocked them back and forth, faster and faster as Cole stared at the bracelets of hickeys, his cock being stroked and his ass totally filled. “Marcus, yes…!”

  “Yes, Cole,” Marcus murmured back. “Come for me. Only for me.”

  Cole’s body complied easily, come splashing along his belly and Marcus’s hand, until he sagged forward again onto the mattress. Arms and legs spread, literally pinned, Marcus finished fucking him, coming hard…and crying out Cole’s name.

  Law

  “How the hell…?” Law muttered on the other end of the computer screen—he didn’t want to leave the hospital, needed to be near Julian, but he hated not being able to see Cole. “How long did he spend studying us before Paolo caught sight of him in the woods?”

  Styx was pacing, his face drawn. Paolo was sitting quietly, twisting his fingers together, the anger apparent on his face. They were men who, while familiar with failure, were also never going to accept it.

  “This is fucking terrifying,” Law continued.

  “What the fuck is he trying to do?” Styx’s voice came out low and even, but Law knew he was anything but.

  “It’s a taunt. That’s why he didn’t bother to run when he had Cole. It was like, look what I can do right in front of you,” Law continued, his hands fisted on his lap. “He must think we’re all Cole’s customers or something…that we dragged him back into the life.”

  Paolo’s voice was fierce when he told them, “I never thought I’d say this, but I sure as hell hope Cole’s the first one he tried this with—because Cole’s definitely going to be his last.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “I want to go with you,” Cole insisted when Marcus informed him that he was going to the hospital where Julian was. Marcus was muttering something about how that was a really fucking bad idea, how they shouldn’t get Cole involved in something like this. “I’m already involved,” Cole reminded him.

  “Yes, I remember Law brought you. And that I stupidly agreed to let you be bait. Not happening again.” But in the end, Marcus brought Cole along because it would be good for both Cole and for Julian, and because Marcus refused to leave Cole behind. Law was in the building too. They knew they had to cover Cole closely, ever since he’d realized that the man who was after him was from the prison and not a customer at all, but rather a cop at the prison where Cole had remained for a month.

  So they were, in a way, starting from scratch, although none of them doubted that Seth had training, military or otherwise.

  Marcus’s fingers flew over the keys. Hacking into the hospital’s security system was the easy part. Figuring out the cameras that this guy might not have noticed would prove far more difficult. And then Marcus sat back, looked over at Julian and asked, “When the social worker came in, did he look at your chart?”

  Julian nodded distractedly because he was playing a video game on the hospital TV.

  Marcus’s eyes went to the metal-covered chart. “Was he wearing gloves?”

  “Um…maybe? Although, no, I don’t think so. He held my hand, so I think I would’ve remembered.” Julian cut him a look. “Why?”

  “No big deal. There’s a flu outbreak, so the staff is supposed to be extra careful.”

  Julian seemed satisfied with the answer, or else too into his video game to worry about it. It allowed Marcus to dust the chart in the bathroom and send the fingerprints on to Clint. Half an hour later, they came back with several hits—hospital personnel…and one very interesting hit. A person who didn’t exist. And Law and Marcus both knew how to trace those kinds of people.

  Meanwhile, Cole was sitting with Paolo, watching hours of videotape taken at the hospital, starting the morning that Julian said the social worker had been to see him. But nobody looked familiar or out of place or suspicious.

  They were right outside the room, in the waiting area by the nurses’ station, under the cameras themselves.

  “What if we try the night before?” Cole asked.

  “You mean, when you and Law went to first visit Julian?” Paolo rubbed his chin.

  “Yeah. Or maybe even the night before that. Maybe this guy kind of trolls the hospital, looking for guys like Julian.” Cole paused. “That would be around the time he realized I wasn’t waiting for him, playing his game. It’s like he made the decision to actively look for somebody new at that point.”

  Paolo pressed some keys and brought up footage starting two days before Cole and Law met Julian for the first time in the hospital. Cole leaned on his elbows, his eyes blurry, but he forced himself to watch. He could only fast-forward so much, because he really had to concentrate on the faces, faces he wasn’t even sure he’d remember. But he had to hope that something, someone, would jog his memory. They were too close for him to give up now.

  It was close to four hours later when Paolo told Cole he needed to get some sleep before he could continue, but right then something—someone—caught Cole’s eye. He leaned forward, and Paolo noticed immediately, paused the tape and rewound a little bit. Cole narrowed his eyes and watched the crowd of people herd into the emergency room. There’d been a fight in the corner and everybody went towards it, except for a lone man in a white coat who’d glanced over to the melee and then put his head down and continued through the doctors’ entrance.

  Paolo froze the tape on the man’s face then punched a few keys and brought it to the forefront and into sharper focus. Cole stared and then his mouth opened.

  “I think we’ve got a hit,” Paolo murmured as Marcus came toward them.

  “That’s good, because we also have a name but no picture.” Marcus leaned in to stare at the man. “That’s Seth Rogers. Former Army and former CIA. He’s so fucked up that the only way he got the cop gig was to falsify his old records. Definitely a psych case, even before the CIA took him on. But after that, forget it.”

  Cole just shook his head, wondering how he could’ve been so wrong, how he could’ve forgotten about this guy. But his time spent with him had been seemingly nonexistent. It’s not like he had regular conversations with the prison staff. It’d been such a painful time in Cole’s life he’d basically been on autopilot the entire time,
and those guards? Now barely a blip.

  “Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Paolo told him gently after Cole admitted all of that. “Law is taking over for Marcus so you two can go home, okay? After what happened, it’s not good for you to be here.”

  “Yeah, I need that,” Cole heard himself say before he could stop himself. “I mean—”

  “It’s not a bad thing,” Marcus told him. And Cole really wanted to believe that.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Marcus and Cole took a crazy, mazelike way out of the hospital and finally ended up in Marcus’s truck.

  “Did you do something to the windows?” Cole asked.

  “Tinted them,” Marcus said, then stared at Cole before putting the truck into gear. “It’s bulletproof.”

  “The glass?”

  “The whole thing,” Marcus confirmed.

  “When did that happen?”

  “Always was,” Marcus admitted, and Cole leaned back and closed his eyes. Marcus really had been protecting him from the start…and himself too. Which made Cole remember how much Marcus had been through in his life. Most PIs didn’t have trucks like this.

  They drove in silence, and Cole didn’t mind. Marcus was concentrating on not being followed, and Cole attempted to clear his mind, to figure out the next steps.

  He’d told Law he wanted to help him at the center. Law hadn’t said yes immediately, for reasons other than the fact that he was being stalked. He didn’t want Cole to be triggered. But he hadn’t said no, either, so Cole figured Law would eventually warm to the idea.

  Marcus pulled the truck all the way up the driveway but left plenty of room between the garage and the truck so cars could fit past it.

  Or maybe he wasn’t going close to it because he’d felt Cole tense up. Either way, Marcus was on his ass as they walked around the car and to the back porch. He checked the alarm from outside the house, showing Cole the rooms, and then he glanced up and said, “Shit, I meant to take in those garbage cans.”