Ricochet (Out for Justice Book 1)

by Reese Knightley

  Mac turned his gaze back to look out the window to the street below. He narrowed in on Noah crossing the cobblestoned square toward the coffee shop. From where Mac stood, hidden from above, he could almost see every inch of the square below. Mac had to trust that Scott Buller and two other agents would have to cover the rest. Jake, stationed inside of the bookstore, would be Noah’s only hope if shit went down wrong in there.

  Mac waited impatiently while Noah stood in line for coffee. Watching Noah through the plate glass window wasn’t enough for him, and Mac squeezed his hands into fists. The stinging pain in his bicep brought him back to focus, and he slowly eased his grip.

  This was the hard part, the waiting. Noah would get the cash, check his phone, buy coffee, and then head to the bookstore. All as if he were killing time until Mac picked him up. And Mac always picked him up.

  Checking the earpiece, Mac murmured a response to the demand for checking in that Buller insisted they carry out each and every fifteen minutes.

  A movement on the street caught his attention, and he tracked the couple, a man and a woman, as they moved from the bank to the book store.

  “Incoming two, Jake,” Mac whispered, pressing his earpiece to speak.

  “Copy,” Jake whispered back.

  Scott Buller rustled the newspaper and managed to press his ear without looking suspicious. “Watch your six, Coleman,” their boss growled through the ear piece. There was no response from Jake, but Mac could picture the young marshal making a face.

  Noah left the coffee house, sipping coffee, and wandered down the sidewalk past Buller. Pausing, Noah checked his phone and slipped it into his jeans before entering the bookstore.

  Thirty seconds out of sight, Mac started to count like he’d done every other time. A sudden strange noise came through his earpiece. The thing was crackling, and he thought for a moment that his had shorted out until he saw Buller drop the newspaper and sprint toward the bookstore.

  Fuck! Mac didn’t even think. He turned and leaped over the railing and landed on the stairs below. Pain shot through his left arm, and he cradled it as he ran.

  He’d timed himself, even injured, and it took about seventeen seconds to get to the bottom floor and out the front door. Mac hit the double doors running, shoving past people who shouted at him to watch out. He was through the front door of the bookstore and down the main aisle when he heard gunfire.

  Panic sent a crushing fear and his pulse into overdrive as he sprinted toward the noise with his gun pulled and aimed. He passed one aisle and quickly aimed the gun down it. Two people cowered, frozen on the ground at the far corner, but no Noah, Jake, or Buller.

  Barreling around the back counter, Mac shoved open the back door with his shoulder. Using the door as protection, he darted a glance left and then right, holding his gun aimed each time.

  He spotted Buller first, fighting hand to hand with a big man. Buller got the man in a headlock and rammed his head against the wall. The guy cried out and toppled over.

  The van carrying Kane and their equipment careened around the corner and agents spilled into the alleyway.

  Desperately looking for Noah, Mac saw Allison fighting with two men near the back of the car. Out of nowhere, Storm appeared, and between Allison and the hulk, the men were subdued in seconds. Kane and his agents waded into the fray.

  Whipping around the doorframe, Mac spotted Jake on the ground, bleeding out. Buller raced over and crouched next to Jake, pressing a hand to the man’s side. Using his body as a shield.

  Mac took another step and the door swung closed behind him. His eyes raced over the alley and caught on the tangle of blond hair on the other side of a dark car.

  Riveted, he saw Noah beating the crap out of Terrance Manning. The guy might have some muscle mass on Noah, but the Phoenix agent was fast. Blood spurted from Manning’s nose. It appeared that his lover could definitely take care of himself. But that didn’t stop Mac. He took off at a run, sprinting down the alley.

  Manning pulled something from his pocket that Mac couldn’t see, and Noah went down. A harsh, guttural, enraged cry filled the air, and Mac realized he’d made the sound.

  “You fuck!” he snarled.

  Manning glanced up just as Mac jumped and slid over the hood of the car. He planted his booted foot right in the man’s chest before Manning could bring up whatever was in his hand. Manning went flying backwards, smacking the brick building hard, and dropped to the asphalt. A Taser popped out of the man’s hand.

  Noah slumped to the ground, and Mac dropped to one knee, covering Noah. He aimed his gun through the open car door at the driver sitting behind the wheel of the car as Noah struggled to sit up.

  “Turn off the engine,” Mac snarled at the driver. “Or I’ll put a bullet in your head.”

  “Mac!” Noah’s terrified cry brought Mac’s head jerking around. He came face to face with Manning lifting a gun. Mac’s life flashed before his eyes, everything he’d fought for and the life with Noah yet to come. He turned his gun, but he knew in his heart, he wouldn’t make it in time.

  Noah

  Noah thought his life was over. Even though it was Mac who was in danger of being shot, he knew in his heart that if anything happened to Mac, he’d stop living. Struggling to breathe past the pain from the Taser, he shouted.

  “Don’t fucking do it,” Noah snarled at Manning.

  Manning looked at him. His eyes filled with such demonic hate and Noah knew that nothing would stop the guy.

  Through the noise of the alley, a single gunshot rang out. And a red hole appeared in Manning’s forehead. The guy’s expression remained shocked before his eyes went blank, and then his body toppled in a lifeless heap.

  The whole thing, from the time he screamed Mac’s name until the bullet pierced Manning’s skull, had felt like slow, agonizing minutes but had only been seconds.

  Storm’s dark eyes met his, and the man gave one simple nod before tucking away his gun. The big man turned and strode away, lost from view in seconds.

  The driver of the car was scrambling to get out and slither away. Kane jerked the guy out of the car and slammed the man onto the ground and cuffed him.

  The next second, Noah was caught up in Mac’s arms. “I’m okay,” Noah said jerkily, his body still recoiling from the jolt of electricity. He struggled to sit up.

  “Easy there, tiger,” his lover breathed out, pressing his face into his neck, and Noah let Mac hold him because it seemed to bring the man some small measure of comfort.

  Over the sound of Mac’s pounding heart, Noah heard Scott Buller shouting orders in a tone of voice that held part power and authority tinged with fear.

  Noah eased back from Mac and looked around. From start to finish, it had taken less than fifteen minutes with two casualties. Manning was dead and Mac’s partner, Jake, had been wounded. Pushing to his feet, he let Mac help him and they walked to where Jake was laying on the ground with Buller hovering over him.

  “Jake, how you doing, buddy?” Mac asked, concern heavy in his voice.

  “Hey, Mac, Noah.” Jake winced. “I’m good.”

  “Good, my ass,” Scott growled. “The bullet went right into your side, missed the fucking vest. This is the second goddamned time, Jake, and I’m sick of it.”

  Noah glanced in surprise at Mac, and they both looked at Buller, but the man’s gaze stayed locked on Jake. Jake smiled stupidly up at their captain. So it was like that, was it? Noah could almost predict those two getting together. He could have sworn that Mac told him Buller was straight.

  The ambulance sirens drew closer, cutting into his thoughts, and he started searching out his team. He saw them then. Off to the side in a small group, looking at him. Storm, Allison, Seth, and Wild. Stefano and Reggie had stayed behind. Frost was out of the country, but the remaining Phoenix had come through. He smiled at them, and they nodded before turning to leave.

  The ambulance pulled into the alley and two EMTs jumped out, rushing over to Jake. Buller barel
y moved when they converged on Jake. Mac guided him out of the way.

  Noah turned and curled his arms around Mac’s waist. “It’s over.” Sweet hell, as Storm would say, it was finally fucking over.

  Mac met his gaze. Pride burned in Mac’s gaze. His lover fucking amazed him. Noah’s throat grew too tight to speak for a moment.

  “Yeah, it’s over,” Mac finally choked out, and then tipped his head to rest his cheek against Noah’s hair. Noah held on tight.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Mac was sitting on the coffee table in front of where Noah sat in the big easy chair.

  “I’m fine,” he told Mac, reaching and brushing his fingers through the man’s dark hair, pushing it back from his beloved face. His fingers traced the scar that ran the length of Mac’s face. When Mac went to pull away, Noah slipped his hand around the back of Mac’s neck and held him still.

  “Don’t,” Noah whispered, and cupped the man’s face. Pulling Mac forward, Noah traced his lips along the scar. He felt Mac tense and then relax beneath his lips. “I love every part of you.”

  “Jesus, Noah,” Mac whispered, slipping his arms around him.

  Smiling, Noah dropped back against the cushions, and Mac pushed his shirt up. “See? Not a big mark.” The marshal’s fingers traced over his abs. “I was wearing a vest,” Noah pointed out. The Taser had hurt like a bitch, but the pain was bearable due to the bulletproof vest.

  “Thankfully.” Mac nodded in agreement, then bent and kissed the mark. Noah smiled and wrapped his hand around the back of Mac’s neck, drawing him upward for a kiss.

  The noise from the back door was loud in the silence. Mac drew back.

  “Showtime,” Mac whispered, and stood from the coffee table and sat on the couch.

  Noah nodded and stood. Quickly, he moved out of sight into a darkened alcove that faced the living room. The notch held a mop and broom leaning against the wall. Noah wedged next to the dirty clothes hamper and pulled his gun. It certainly was show time. His hand curled around the handle of his Glock.

  Mac also had a gun laying on the couch cushion between his body and the arm of the couch. The area was shadowed so Noah doubted anyone could see the weapon.

  “Well, isn’t this perfect,” Ben sneered. The man stood in the entryway, and next to him stood none other than the traitor, Camren Anderson. Released from the custody of Phoenix two days prior, Ben had unknowingly served his purpose and delivered Anderson.

  “You know, you’re slipping, Mac,” the normally quiet Anderson said. The guy actually chuckled, as if holding Mac at gun point was a joke. “I expected more of you.”

  “What are you doing, Ben?” Mac asked his ex, ignoring Anderson.

  Noah observed Anderson. The guy didn’t like being ignored, and it was evident in the slight puffing of his chest and the scowl on his face.

  “Fuck you, Mac. You piece of shit.” Ben curled his lip. “You don’t get to question me.”

  Noah’s jaw clenched, and his hand tightened around the handle of the gun.

  “Don’t forget, Ben, you’re the one that left me, so I already know what you think of me.”

  Mac seemed so calm. Noah, on the other hand, wanted to pistol-whip Mac’s ex.

  He carefully watched Anderson. The black gun in the guy’s hand stayed steady, and it was a good thing, because if the man so much as twitched, he was dead.

  “I came back!” Ben cried, his voice suddenly wobbly.

  It seemed Ben had suddenly realized what he’d lost. It was too bad, really.

  Noah was the winner. He had the most coveted prize, Mac’s heart.

  “It was too late for us, and really, Ben? Cheating on poor Conrad already?” Mac poked the bear, and Noah frowned.

  “Conrad means nothing. You, on the other hand, you humiliated me.”

  “You did that to yourself, Ben.”

  “Where’s your lover? He get tired of your flawed face and took a hike?” Ben sneered.

  Noah’s gun hand very slightly moved from Anderson to train on Ben. It would be so easy to make the guy disappear. And man, he wanted to so badly. Noah looked at Mac, but his lover hadn’t flinched. In fact, he had a half smile on his face.

  Mac’s gaze shifted to Anderson. “Why’d you do it?”

  “I needed the money.” Anderson shrugged. “Stevenson approached me two days before he was killed and offered me fifty thousand dollars for one WITSEC address.”

  “And I got a cut of the money,” Ben chimed in.

  “Ben, step aside so I can do what I need to do.” Anderson pushed at Ben.

  Noah took the shot. The silence was broken by a small snicking sound.

  The bullet entered Anderson’s temple and went out the other side. Blood and brains splattered the couch. They’d be replacing that tonight. The man dropped like a two hundred-pound sack of potatoes.

  Noah stepped from the alcove, and Ben turned in shock, staring at Noah with wide, blinking eyes.

  “The next one goes in your forehead,” Noah said with deadly calm. Ben threw Mac a pleading look.

  “No, don’t look at him. He’s not going to help you,” Noah admonished.

  “You might want to think about your next move, Ben,” Mac said calmly.

  Ben finally understood his life hinged on his next action and slowly sank to his knees, placing both hands behind his head.

  Noah stood with his shoulder leaning against the kitchen doorway. His gaze locked on Mac as the man stood looking out the window as they placed Ben in the back of a police car and the body bag carrying Anderson in an ambulance. Noah had turned over his gun and went through the questions Kane had asked. Now, it was only the two of them, and barely a word had been exchanged.

  With Mac so lost in thought, Noah pulled out his cell phone and punched in Stefano’s number.

  “Hello, Noah,” his commander greeted.

  “Hi, Stefano,” Noah replied. “It’s done.” He filled the man in on the recent events.

  “Good job. When are you available?”

  “I need you to reduce my mission load.” Noah held Mac’s gaze when the marshal turned from the window.

  “Is that right?” Stefano snorted.

  Noah smiled, and Mac’s gaze grew soft. “Yeah, I’m part of something bigger now, and I won’t have as much time to travel out of the country.”

  Mac’s lips twitched and a smile curved the man’s mouth. Noah returned the smile.

  “All right, Noah. I’ll let the higher-ups know, even though they’re going to have a fucking litter of chickens,” Stefano muttered.

  “Don’t you mean kittens?” Noah chuckled.

  “No, I mean chickens! Those nasty bastards are much meaner than kittens!”

  Noah rang off, and looked at Mac. “Go figure, my boss likes cats.”

  “I’m more of a dog man, myself.” Mac gave that half smile that Noah loved.

  Stefano

  Stefano set the phone down and watched the chief from across the room. The man facing the window tensed. A few moments later, the man turned.

  “Is it done?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s done,” Stefano replied. “Manning’s dead.”

  “And Noah?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “This doesn’t end it,” the chief said.

  Stefano sighed. “I know. Manning was just a patsy to Viktor. If Yakov takes over, I fear for what’s to come.”

  “The team’s ready,” the man stated. “More ready now than ever before.”

  “I’m worried about Lash.”

  “I’ll handle Lash. You handle the rest of the team.”

  “And Noah? Are you going to tell him who you are?”

  “No.” The man sighed. “Not yet.”

  “He wants to reduce his assignment load.”

  “Make it happen.”

  “It will burden the team.”

  “Then give him a few weeks at least.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The man nodded and then left the room, and Ste
fano watched the empty doorway long after the man’s wide shoulders had disappeared.

  Mac

  Jesus, he couldn’t get over this man. Not that he wanted to. Noah checked every one of his boxes and then some. The boy he’d walked away from had become a man unlike any Mac had known. Fearless, smart, and confident in a way that called to every fiber of his being.

  Turning, he finally shut the door after the last FBI agent had gone. Alone at last, he could feel Noah’s gaze on him from across the room. The concern in Noah’s eyes warmed him.

  Moving across the room, Mac approached the casually leaning man that was anything but casual. Mac saw the tense set of Noah’s shoulders. His lover shoved from the doorway and met him halfway across the room. Mac slipped his arms around Noah and held him.

  “I’m not sorry I shot him,” Noah said.

  “I’m not either,” Mac admitted.

  Taking Noah’s hand, he drew him to the bed. Their lovemaking wasn’t as frantic as it had been the past few nights. Tonight was going to be a slow dance of bodies meeting in a sensuous tangle of need. Noah pulled out the condoms and lube, and Mac’s hunger grew. Mac kissed down Noah’s throat, nudging the man’s head back so his lips could trace the line of his jaw.

  “I’ve waited forever, Noah.”

  “I wish now I would have come back years ago,” Noah said, sorrow swimming in his eyes, and Mac leaned down to kiss his lips.

  “You came when you were ready,” Mac whispered, biting and tugging at Noah’s bottom lip.

  “You have to know you’re my world.” Noah’s voice sounded breathless and ravenous at the same time. When Noah’s hands latched onto him, Mac took control. Yanking off his clothes and helping Noah out of his, Mac spread Noah out on their bed.

  Long legs fell apart as Noah stretched his body in a slow arch on the comforter. Mac groaned. Using his good arm, he crawled up and over his lover, hungrily kissing, licking, and sucking up Noah’s body. Using one leg, he pushed between the man’s legs and felt Noah wrap him up.