by SE Jakes
“I’ll help.”
“No, stay here. Keep an eye on the house.” Marcus handed him a gun and shooed him inside, and Cole was too tired to argue, but still semi-annoyed he wasn’t allowed to walk to the street to pull in a garbage can.
Then he thought about the recent attack and locked the door behind him. God, he hated this shit, being locked away and still feeling scared.
This wasn’t over. It wouldn’t be while Seth was alive.
He glanced at the monitors and saw Marcus circling the garbage cans and then, obviously satisfied, he started dragging them toward the garage. Cole followed him until he couldn’t see Marcus, and then he turned away to try to see Marcus through the window.
But then he heard something…it wasn’t loud, wasn’t even a bump, and hell, maybe he sensed it more than heard it, but he turned to look out the side door and noticed movement by the garage. And a can, abandoned on its side.
Shit. He drew the weapon Marcus gave him and slid out the door as quietly as he could. He walked around the corner and looked…and saw Seth and Marcus at a standoff, with Marcus holding his gun on Seth, and Seth doing the same to Marcus. They were both perpendicular to him and maybe ten feet apart.
Had Seth been here, watching them pull in? Had Marcus known? All of that was running through Cole’s mind, and he should’ve been relieved.
For the next long moment, Cole couldn’t tear his eyes from Seth’s profile.
It happened in seconds and yet somehow all seemed to be in slow motion. The only thing in his mind was Save Marcus. But as shots rang from Seth’s gun, Marcus dove forward at the same time a bullet passed through Seth’s forehead.
One shot. That was all it took.
Cole’s mouth dropped as Seth’s face sagged, his eyes open, the gun clattering to the ground before his body crumpled and fell with a hard whoosh onto the pavement, his head slamming with a crack as loud as the bullet. Blood pooled, and Cole couldn’t take his eyes from Seth, didn’t pull his gun away…not until he was completely reassured the man couldn’t get back up and hurt Marcus.
Marcus rolled, jumped to his feet and said, “Baby…I’m fine. Stay right where you are.”
Cole might’ve nodded, but he couldn’t be sure. He watched Seth intently, saw Marcus’s fingers on Seth’s neck for several seconds.
Then Marcus told him, “He’s gone.”
He’s gone.
As Cole processed that, Marcus walked to him, taking the gun from him and dialing his phone. “Yes, I’d like to report a shooting.” He gave the address then said, “We have one man down.”
He hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket and said gently, “Cole, please go back inside.”
“Why?”
Marcus stared at him with a tight shake of his head. “I’ve got this.”
He wasn’t sure what happened next—not beyond having a semipanic attack, and then he was coming to with Marcus’s arms around him.
“Jesus, I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you like that…if I could’ve warned you…” Marcus was telling him.
“’S’okay. I get it.”
Marcus put a hand on his forehead. “You’re cooling down. Your pulse is back to normal.”
“It’s really over?”
“Yeah, really over.”
Cole buried his face against Marcus’s chest. “The police?”
“They’re here. The EMTs too.”
“Great. This is becoming a fucking habit.”
“Not after this, baby.” Marcus helped him walk toward the house. “The police want to talk to us. So just tell them what happened.”
And when the police questioned Cole, none of them seemed out to get anyone—this was simply about protocol and paperwork, and being told he was very lucky.
In the aftermath, Cole sagged against the chair. The questioning had taken those last bits of adrenaline from him, and he barely processed the police officer telling him they’d contact him if they needed anything further.
He reached and grabbed for Law’s wrist, managed, “Marcus?”
“He’s almost done. Come on—let’s go sit on the couch.” Law helped him head to the living room, where he sat next to Law. Styx came in and they waited for what seemed like forever, until the detectives and Paolo came out of the sunroom. Marcus followed seconds later, and Cole didn’t ask what happened. He was simply grateful that Marcus was coming toward him, sitting next to him, murmuring.
He fell asleep against Marcus’s shoulder after shaking his head when Marcus asked if he wanted to see a doctor. He might’ve said that he needed sleep—and Marcus—but when he opened his eyes, he was in the same position. Law was still at his left, and Cole was still snuggled against Marcus. Paolo and Styx were in the chairs along the wall, and the TV was on in the semidark room, the volume low.
The first thing he did was ask, “Is it really over?”
“It is. They’re calling it self-defense and closing the case,” Marcus said.
“Because it fucking was,” Law growled, and Cole concurred with a nod. “Seth’s records showed how unstable he really was. He hid that record in order to get into the Academy. He hid his psychosis.”
“So it wasn’t anything I did,” Cole said quietly, more to himself than anyone else, but still they’d heard him.
“Jesus, Cole.” Marcus looked horrified. “Not at all. Why would you think that?”
Cole turned to him. “Because of what you said to me. You told me that I did things to rich men. Maybe I got him mad or unwittingly made him think…”
“Stop.” Marcus took him by the shoulders. “I was an asshole for accusing you the way I did. But even if you did do something to him—led him on in the name of the job—it doesn’t give anyone the right to threaten your life. But fuck, I believe you—I trust you. Okay?”
He nodded, because nodding was easy. Believing what Marcus told him? That was another thing entirely.
But Marcus was shaking his head, telling him, “You did nothing. The guy was sick. Disturbed.”
But Cole couldn’t get the idea out of his head that one day he might say something completely innocuous and that would set somebody off again. Which was totally ridiculous, of course, because who lived their life like that?
Somebody who’d almost gotten killed by a stalker. “At least Julian doesn’t have to know about this. Paolo was right—some things are better kept to yourself.”
Marcus nodded, but he still looked worried. “You need to stop worrying—everyone’s safe, especially you. You need rest.”
But Cole shook his head. “Julian’s going over to the shelter tonight. I’d like to be there to help him get settled in. Law said he’d take us.”
Cole hadn’t realized what he’d said, or how it sounded, until he saw the flash of hurt cross Marcus’s face. To his credit, Marcus only nodded and smiled and said, “I know that’s important to you. I’ll be waiting here when you get back. From there we’ll talk about what’s next.”
We’ll talk about what’s next. That echoed in Cole’s brain for the rest of the night.
The worst was over, because Marcus considered the worst the fact that Cole had nearly been killed. But now that he was safe and Seth was dead, all the other obstacles Marcus had pushed to the back burner were layered up and threatened to catch fire.
Cole was talking about getting a new apartment, or at least moving back into his old one. Going back to his life the way it was before Seth. He’d actually said that out loud before their very late dinner tonight after getting Julian settled in the halfway house. He’d used the words “going back to my life” as if his time with Marcus was simply an unwanted intrusion and something that was never going to be a part of his life long term.
Marcus had told them he wasn’t hungry, that he wanted to go for a run instead, and Cole either didn’t notice Marcus was upset or pretended not to. And so Marcus had run a good six or seven or maybe even eight miles—he’d lost count along the way—and now he kicked around the backyard of his three boss
es’ house, trying to summon the courage to go inside, pack and go back to his own place. His own life.
“He didn’t mean it like that, you know.” Law sat on the small stone wall surrounding the outer edges of the property.
“You’re working on being a ghost now?”
“It just comes naturally.” Law handed him a bottle of water. “He thinks that maybe we only had him here as a job. He thinks he might only be a job to you. You’re both thinking the same stupid shit, and you’re tripping all over each other.”
“I didn’t realize that Phoenix, Inc. employed relationship counselors.”
“It’s not that the sarcasm isn’t appreciated,” Law started, “but I figured I’d save you the trouble of making the same stupid, pigheaded mistakes the three of us almost made.”
“And suppose I tell him what I want, and he doesn’t want that, doesn’t want me? Suppose he just wants to go back to his old life. Suppose he really meant that?”
“You’re not going to know unless you ask. Don’t you need to put it to rest either way?”
“I’ve never liked you,” Marcus muttered, and Law simply laughed.
Chapter Thirty-Four
When Marcus went up to the room he’d been sharing with Cole, as he suspected, he found Cole packing.
Cole looked up when Marcus came in, a flash of guilt in his eyes.
“Leaving?” Marcus asked, trying to keep his voice casual and not angry.
“Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t going to go without saying anything. I wasn’t sneaking out.” Cole sighed. “I never expected any of this, Marcus. I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
Marcus sat on the bed next to him. “I didn’t either. But I do know what I want to do.”
Cole smiled. “Well yeah, we’re good at that.”
“That’s not the only thing I’m talking about, Cole. Sex with you is great, but I’m not… I want to be with you. Go to sleep with you. Wake up with you. I want to give us a chance. I want you to move in with me.”
Cole drew in a surprised breath. “Shit. Marcus, you’ve got to understand…I really want that.”
“So do it.”
“I can’t.” Cole stared at the floor for a second, then back up at Marcus, explaining, “It’s just that everything happened so fast. I need to be sure that this isn’t all about the job or the danger or guilt for you.”
“Or for you,” Marcus said quietly, and Cole didn’t disagree. Okay then, so that was out on the table. Marcus supposed that was better than nothing. “I still want to see you. Date you. Be with you.” Because he wanted to be as clear as possible on that.
Cole smiled shyly. “Yeah, I’d like that too.”
Marcus sighed with relief. He’d forgotten in all of this just how much Cole had been through, even before the stalker. This had been a two-week-long frenzy, and at times it almost seemed like it’d been a dream. “Why don’t you come to my place tonight—my apartment. You’ve never been there. I’d like to cook you dinner.”
“That sounds great, but I think…can we wait until tomorrow night? I think I need a night to myself.”
Even though Marcus didn’t want to agree, he did. He was slightly relieved that Cole agreed to the dinner, but too much could happen until then to make Cole blow him off. He wouldn’t let Cole beg off on dinner because that was only part one of Marcus’s plan…the other part included the rental apartment in his place. And Cole firmly moved in there. At least until Marcus could convince him to move in with Marcus completely.
Cole stood in the doorway of his old apartment, flashing back to the bomb, to finding pictures…to how alone he’d been before Marcus and the others circled around him and saved him. But he didn’t hesitate longer than a few seconds because Paolo had dropped him off and he would be concerned. So he turned and waved, and Paolo waved back and pulled his truck out of the driveway.
Cole stepped inside, closed and locked the door behind him as a safety precaution. He used the alarm that Marcus and Law had installed days earlier, and once it was armed, he felt marginally better. But he couldn’t bring himself to unpack. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Paolo’s house was a home, although granted, not his home.
The problem was, Cole had begun to feel like his home was wherever Marcus was. And even though Marcus would’ve been cool with that right now, they didn’t know each other. They knew facts. They knew each other’s bodies. But how could something that happened so fast be any good? How could it last?
To stop himself from thinking, he went through his usual routine of shadowboxing and jump rope, blasting the music in his ears. And then he showered and got ready for a sleep that would never come.
He could’ve accepted Marcus’s invite, even at this late hour. In his heart, he knew that it would be easy enough to even surprise him, to get on his bike and ride through the highways with the wind in his hair, the rumble of the bike clearing his head.
Deep, wrenching sobs tore from his throat. Because this wasn’t where he wanted to be, and certainly not alone. He shoved his fist against his mouth, mainly because he didn’t want to hear himself cry. Made him angrier and sadder than he already was. Made him feel weak.
Made him feel…and, like Marcus, up until this point Cole’d been good at keeping it all turned off.
Get it together. Because he’d been the one to make the clean break. Figured it would be easier on everyone—except himself—but that didn’t matter. It never really had.
A sudden knock at the door made him start. He stood, glanced out the window and saw Marcus’s truck. Before he could remind himself he looked like he’d been crying, he flung the door open to find Marcus leaning against the doorjamb, looking too damned good in a pair of worn jeans and a simple black T-shirt.
And he was holding a bakery box. “It’s apple. Your favorite,” he told Cole. But he pushed in and put the box down, and before Cole could say anything, he brushed a thumb at the tears in the corners of Cole’s eyes. He studied them, then wisely didn’t mention anything about that, instead saying, “I wanted to make sure you were coming to dinner.”
“You don’t have to cook for me anymore.”
“I never had to do that for you. I wanted to. I still want to,” Marcus told him, his voice steady and calm, like he was determined not to start a fight, no matter how hard Cole might push him.
“Okay, fine.”
“I’d like you to stay over too. At least think about it.”
“Marcus—”
“It’s what people who are dating do. We blew through any normal stage of dating we might’ve had. And there’s nothing wrong with that but still…” Marcus’s thumb moved down to trace Cole’s jawline, “…I like having you with me.”
God, he sounded so sincere. He really did. And so Cole shoved one of his still-packed bags on his shoulder.
“You could take all of it,” Marcus said.
“Fuck. Marcus…”
“I’ve got an apartment in my house. I’ve been looking to rent it.”
“And you’re just telling me this now because?”
“I thought it would piss you off if I mentioned it earlier.”
“It would’ve.” Marcus knew him well, it seemed. He’d let Cole come home alone because he must’ve known it would be tough.
But maybe it’d been hard for Marcus to go home alone as well, and that was something Cole hadn’t taken into consideration. Maybe this wasn’t as one-sided as he’d feared.
Marcus was waiting for his answer, but he pushed, just a little. “I want you close. I want you with me…in my bed, among other things. But if you need to be independent, I get it. Still, being independent and being alone are two different things.”
Cole stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do whatever feels right. Does this feel right?” Marcus asked as he moved closer, rubbed the back of Cole’s neck the way Cole had comforted him. Then his hand moved to Cole’s shoulder, a caress that made him shiver. “Or does th
is?”
Cole didn’t have to say anything. He melted against Marcus, let Marcus pull him in for a kiss. It was so full of reassurances.
“I’m hungry,” he murmured, his lips still inches from Marcus’s, and his stomach growled in agreement. “And I’m paying you rent.”
“I’m not going to argue with whatever keeps you close,” Marcus told him. “Let’s get your bags.”
Cole rode his bike behind Marcus’s truck because he needed to. And when he pulled into the garage next to him, Marcus smiled and hugged him, and any last bit of Cole’s nerves instantly faded. It felt the same. It was the same.
And he went inside and they sat at the table and they ate dinner that Marcus had made just for him, plus the pie, and they laughed and they joked. They attempted to watch a movie, but then Marcus’s hands started to wander. Cole let them.
They ended up in Marcus’s bed.
“Stay. Stay the night in my bed, at least.” Marcus’s arms were wrapped around Cole, as if not wanting to give him the choice. And Cole was actually okay with that.
“I’ll stay here.”
“Good. One more thing. I have an event to go to in a couple of days. It’s a black-tie event, which I realize doesn’t sound like all that much fun. But the food will be good.” Marcus smiled. “I’m really selling it, aren’t I?”
Cole laughed. “You had me at food. But I don’t have a tux.”
“Everybody needs a tux, so we’ll go get you one. My treat, okay?”
“Marcus, I can’t—”
“I insist. You wouldn’t need it if I didn’t invite you. It’s only fair.”
Cole conceded, because honestly, if he was gonna spend money on something, it wouldn’t be a monkey suit.
“And…while I’ve got you really agreeable…” Marcus said.
“Marcus…” Cole warned him. “I’m not a fucking pushover.”
“No you’re not. But you’re turning me into one,” Marcus growled. “Come on. I need you to approve your apartment, and then that will be settled and I can drag you back to my bed. Where you belong.”
Cole let Marcus pull him out of bed and together, naked, they walked downstairs, turned down a hallway until they came to a locked door, where Marcus handed him the key. “Rent’s due on the first of the month.”