by Sara York
With all of the things he needed to impersonate the police official in his possession, he felt better. He took a cab to a hotel near the airport and ate at the restaurant inside. The food was good and he knew he'd sleep well with the limited time he had allotted. When he arrived in his room, he placed a call to Duff, informing him that everything had run like clockwork. His flight would leave Cape Town near midnight, giving him a bit more than four hours with some wiggle room to shower, sleep, and get back to the airport. After the call, he showered, brushed his teeth, and headed to bed. He missed Grant terribly. After five minutes of tossing and turning, Roger picked up his phone and texted Grant.
I miss you.
He waited. It was almost long enough to hit the spot just before sleep but he wasn't quite there when his phone buzzed. He opened his eyes, smiling when he saw he had a text from Grant.
Hey. Aren't you tired? Duff said you were going to sleep for a while.
Yes, Roger texted back.
If I was there with you, I'd wrap my arms around you and make you sleep.
Roger smiled and replied. I'd love to be in your arms. I can't explain it.
Explain what?
Warmth filled him. How did you explain these feelings over text? How I feel. I shouldn't feel this close to you yet. It took me a while to feel this way about Hayden. I was debating with myself on the plane over.
Oh
The reply made him feel bad, like he shouldn't be talking about Hayden. I hope I didn't make you angry talking about Hayden.
No, I'm just not sure what you meant by debating with yourself.
Roger typed fast, hoping to put Grant's mind at ease. I was wondering why a great guy like you would like me.
Roger
The one word texted from Grant could mean almost anything but he smiled to himself.
What?
You are amazing. I can't believe you would want me. I'm damaged.
The words came, defying all logic. I'm falling in love.
He hit send before he meant to, the words had flown from his fingers faster than his brain had thought. He regretted it almost immediately. Ten seconds went past, then fifteen. Nothing. He closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't typed those words. His phone buzzed and he almost didn't want to see the text that had taken Grant more than a minute to type out.
I'm afraid. Craig poured it on fast, wooing me into a relationship. It wasn't his fault though, I wanted it. But I shouldn't have fallen for him so quickly. He lied to me and took advantage of me. He was with other men when we had an exclusive agreement. I want us to work, but I'm so scared of the same thing happening.
Now it was his turn to wait to reply. They were speaking openly, telling the truth without lust getting in the way. He wanted Grant, no doubt about it, but would their pasts keep them apart?
I'm not trying to pressure you. And I swear I'll never lie to you. We're exclusive. No one else. Please tell me you feel the same way.
Roger waited a few seconds before hitting send. Almost immediately his phone buzzed.
Yes
He smiled and couldn't help but laugh. They were making progress though they were a half a world away from each other. He rolled to his side and hugged one of the pillows. His phone buzzed again.
I want to make sure you understand that I don't want to pressure you either.
Roger nodded though Grant couldn’t see him. I'm very happy we are in an exclusive relationship.
Roger, I have strong feelings for you. Now go to bed. You have a long trip and a lot to accomplish. You're plane will be leaving before you know it and you need some rest.
Yes sir.
Roger snuggled with the pillow, pretending that it was Grant. He fell asleep quickly, satisfied that he and Grant were moving in the right direction.
Eight hours after he landed, Roger was back at the airport as Patrick Smit. He felt that he made a decent impostor for the inspector. No one questioned him going through security and he was on the plane bound for London within two hours of arriving at the airport.
He sighed and relaxed, closing his eyes as he headed north. It would be a long flight. A little over two full days on a plane or in the airport. It had felt good walking round Cape Town, and he'd slept for almost two full hours, but there hadn't been enough time to enjoy the city.
This was his first mission since moving to Wild Bluff. He was nervous, but didn't want to obsess on the fear he felt. If he messed this up, he would die of embarrassment. The other guys all seemed so confident in their missions. Being alone was frightening in a way. He'd done so much in the Marines, but this was different. He was impersonating an officer of the law, entering a country on a fake passport, breaking all sorts of rules, and no one would back him up if he were found out. On top of it all, he was going to question the bombing suspects under false pretenses. If he were caught, he could spend a long time in jail.
Never before had he broken so many laws in the act of duty. Hell, breaking laws was highly frowned upon by the government, and he'd spent most of his life fighting to make people obey laws, but this was different. Him breaking the law would mean others could live in peace.
*~*~*
Zander had listened in on Duff's conversation with Roger. He was glad that Roger had made it to Cape Town and that the mission was on target. Roger's plane had left South Africa a few hours ago and he wouldn't land in England for a while.
They had time and were relaxing before the final push on their end when Roger arrived in London. It would be early morning for them when his plane set down. At least they'd get a good night sleep.
Marshal would be happy to hear about their success. Dinner was in the crockpot and he was having a beer. He smiled, satisfied with his life. His man would be back any moment and they'd have the night to together touching and kissing. Everything was working out perfectly for them. He finished his beer and went inside to grab another. Billy talked to him for a moment and by the time he looked outside again, the sun was almost set. His heart quickened and he glanced to the barn. He knew Marshal wanted to be home before the sky turned dark and it was damn near dark.
"Zander, have you tried my new mashed potatoes recipe?" Mike asked.
"Not yet. What's different?"
"Garlic."
'"Should be good. You made enough, right?"
Mike laughed as he dished up the potatoes into the serving bowl. "You might want to get a bite now."
He walked to the utensil drawer and pulled out a spoon before moving in to take a bite. The flavor was magnificent and he moaned. "Dang, those are good."
"Exactly."
"What did you do?" Zander asked.
"I'm not telling. But you might want to start with potatoes."
He glanced out the window again, worry building with each second. "Has anyone seen Marshal?"
"Nope. Not yet." James said.
"Dang it. I'm going out to check the barn." Zander placed the spoon on the counter and picked up his beer before going out the back door. He ambled over to the barn, thinking that maybe Marshal was taking extra time with the horses. The man was known to spend a lot of time in the barn when he was stressed.
"Marsh?" He called out when he opened the door. No one answered. "Hey, anyone in here?" Zander moved farther into the barn, flipping on the lights as he went. Dusty's stall was empty and the saddle Marshal liked was gone.
Panic set in and he tossed the beer into the trash before racing out of the barn to the main house. He banged in the door, drawing stares.
"Marsh isn't back," he blurted out.
"Hold on, are you sure?" Duff asked.
"Yeah, his horse isn't in the barn and his saddle isn't in the tack room."
"Shit," James whispered.
"Here's what we're going to do," Duff said. "Zander, Grant, you both take one truck and head out to the far north pasture where Marshal was checking the fence line. James and Billy, you take another truck and drive the ranch. See if you can find him wandering somewhere else. Tucker, you and
Mike stay here. Clean up and if he comes back, call us so we know we can stop searching for him."
Zander's hands were shaking and his head throbbed. He wished he hadn't drunk the beer and that he'd actually eaten something. On his way out of the kitchen, he grabbed a dinner roll and some meat. The other guys did the same, grabbing food to sober up.
Grant followed him out to the truck, taking the driver's seat. Zander felt like he'd fallen into a bad dream and he couldn’t wake. His head was throbbing with terrible ideas of tragedies that might have struck.
"We'll find him," Grant said.
"God, I hope so. What the fuck could have happened?"
"I don't know, but I swear I won't stop until we have him back home."
"Thanks."
Grant sped down the dirt and gravel path to the first cattle guard crossing where he was forced to slow. He drove more cautiously in the second pasture since they had livestock in the field. When they approached the second cattle guard, Zander saw movement. He sat forward and Grant slowed.
"Is that Dusty?" Grant asked.
"Fuck. It is. His saddle is gone. What the hell do you think that means?" Zander was frantic with worry. He imagined Marshal lying on the ground, his body broken and bloody. But Marshal was a good horseman. He could ride and falling off his horse wasn't like him.
"No clue, but I'm calling Duff."
Grant drove the truck over the cattle guard and stopped. Zander opened the gate and Dusty came to him, nickering quietly. Zander pulled out his phone and swiped to turn on the flashlight. He looked for any cuts or injuries, finding nothing after running his hand over almost all of the horse.
Zander was confused. Marshal should be here. "There isn't anything wrong with Dusty. We need to find the saddle and bridle. If it was just the saddle gone, I'd think that maybe it fell off, but the bridle has been removed. It makes no freaking sense."
Grant came around the front of the truck, his phone still at the side of his head. "Duff, Zander says Dusty doesn't look injured. Looks like the bridle was removed. The horse didn't do it himself so Marshal must have."
Zander walked around the horse again, making sure he was okay. He urged Dusty to follow him and moved to the gate. Luckily Dusty was one of their calmest horses, and he stepped into the other pasture without any trouble. Zander closed the gate behind him. Dusty nosed the gate as Zander was securing it, his soft nickers making Zander worry even more. Dusty loved humans and wouldn't have left Marshal if he had a choice.
"Sorry Dusty. Head to the house, we'll let you through the other gate later. You'll be safe in this pasture. No mustangs, just cows." He knew the horse couldn’t understand him, but it didn't stop his nervous chatter.
Grant hung up with Duff and stood in the beam from the headlight. "I'm not sure where to begin. This field is huge. Over five hundred acres."
"Let's ride with the windows open and call out. He might be injured."
"Zander, the bridle and saddle were taken off. If he were injured, he wouldn't have taken off the saddle. If he could get up to remove the saddle, he would have pulled his ass up on the horse and stayed with Dusty."
It wasn't what Zander wanted to hear. Marshal disappearing on his own scared the shit out of him. But what if something else happened? What if...he stopped his thoughts, focusing on his and Grant's next step.
"We need to search this field," Zander said.
"Let's get moving."
Grant drove slowly down the dirt path to the end of the pasture without spotting Marshal. They turned around and could see the headlights of the other trucks swarming to the pasture. They rumbled down the dirt road, the bumps jarring but they needed to find Marshal and every second counted.
The truck hadn't even stopped and Zander was out, rushing to Duff and the other guys. Mike and Tucker had shown up too.
"What's the plan?" Zander asked. His hands were shaking and he didn't feel right. Thoughts of Marshal lying on the ground, blood pouring from his body, flashed through his mind. He cringed. Billy moved closer to him and placed an arm over his shoulder.
"We're running this as a grid search. We'll spread out in a line and walk the whole field," Billy said.
"We're starting at the fence line," Mike added.
"Let's move." Zander didn't want to waste any more time. Already the temperature was dropping.
There was a small dirt path they could use to drive their trucks a little more than halfway to the fence line. With flashlights in hand, they marched to the fence then spread out, making sure they were spaced about every ten feet. Had they been doing this in the daylight hours, they would have spaced themselves fifteen feet apart, covering more ground, but the dark hid things. Zander worried that they'd miss Marshal even being only ten feet apart.
"Let's move," Duff called out.
Only the sound of them striding through the grass broke the silence. Then a wolf howled, sending a shiver of fear through Zander. He swung his flashlight toward the man to his left, it was Mike. Their gazes connected and Zander shivered. They had to find Marshal.
Ten minutes later he heard someone shout. Duff called a halt to their forward march. "Stay in your place for now."
Zander tried to wait patiently but it was impossible. "What's going on?" He hoped someone far enough down the line would know. After four more minutes, the call came out for them to all move to the fence. Zander raced over, searching the ground for Marshal.
"Where is he?"
Duff turned to face him. "We don't know, but we found this."
Three guys pointed their flashlights at the fence and the ground surrounding it. At first, Zander saw nothing. Then he made out scuffmarks in the dirt and the plants that looked like they'd been crushed. He glanced at Duff then turned back to the area they were investigating.
"What is that caught on the fence?" Zander asked.
Grant stepped forward, taking a closer look. "Cloth. Looks blue. What color shirt was Marshal wearing?"
"Blue," Zander answered.
"Yeah, that's what I remembered too." Grant's lips turned down in a frown. "This isn't good."
"Fuck." Zander swung his flashlight around, searching for his lover. He didn't understand how the fuck Marshal had disappeared. He stared at the guys around him, watching as they worked the scene like a crime scene, collecting evidence.
"Hey, the fence has been cut here and patched with wire. It's recent." Billy had walked about ten feet away, his flashlight swung back to them, blinding Zander for a few seconds.
"Cut?" Zander asked.
"I hate to say this, but I think someone has Marshal." Grant moved closer to him, putting his arm around Zander's shoulder. "I know he's been stressed, but you don't think he left on his own, do you?"
Zander shook his head violently. "No, he sure as hell didn't. He was doing better. The stress was there, but he seriously was getting to a place where he felt like he could come back to work."
"The question is, who the hell has Marshal, and how did they know to grab him?" Duff asked.
Zander's eyes burned as rage built inside, twisting his guts. He wouldn't rest until he got Marshal back. And if Marshal died... His whole body shook and he cringed, trying to catch his breath. The thought pinged around his brain, almost forcing him to his knees. Marshal couldn’t die. He glanced to Grant, desperate for answers, but Grant looked just as desperate as he was. They were fucked over and Marshal was paying the price. Nothing good could come of this.
Chapter Fourteen
Craig hadn't fully thought through grabbing Marshal, but the opportunity materialized out of thin air and he had to act. The plan was to go down and set fire to the house, trapping them all inside tonight. Then Marshal came along.
He hefted Marshal again, half carrying, then dragging the heavy fucker up the hill. Out of breath, he dropped Marshal and let him lie in the dirt. It was impossible. When he was about forty feet from the fence, he saw lights in the distance. A truck was slowly making its way through the field. They knew Marshal was miss
ing. Grant would be devastated. Craig smiled and glanced down at Marshal again. He hauled off and kicked him in the ribs. Marshal flinched but didn't move. Craig kicked him again, gaining pleasure in causing him pain. He gave one more swift kick then stopped and lugged the asshole up on his shoulder.
"Fucking bastard. You're too heavy," he groaned. The strain to climb was too much. The slope had increased and Marshal wasn't light. Ten feet was all he gained in total because he'd slipped back down about five feet. He unceremoniously dropped Marshal to the ground, not caring that his face hit the dirt hard.
"Stupid fuck, lose some weight."
He needed a plan and dragging Marshal's sorry ass up the hill wasn't going so well. There were multiple vehicles in the field below. They would look for Marshal, eventually finding the fence he'd cut. It wasn't realistic to keep carrying Marshal. Hell, he should have stayed hidden and left the jerk alone, but anger had surfaced, calling him to seek revenge on Marshal for being with Grant.
His ex would go first. They had something special and Grant should honor that instead of trying to get back at him. That Grant had taken Michael, getting him locked up in prison, pissed him off to the point that he was almost ready to kill Marshal right now. But the fucker could be useful.
Craig glanced around, taking in his situation. The darkness was working against him. He had a good feel for the hills, having lived here for a while, but he also knew the dirt and rocks weren't always stable.
The rope he needed to tie Marshal's hands was back at his base camp. If he left the man here on the hillside he could wake up and make his way back to Wild Bluff, telling everyone who had knocked him out. He wouldn't be able to control Marshal if he woke.
Craig opened his pack, searching for something to immobilize him once he woke. He had the wire he'd used to close off the fence line he'd cut, but the wire wasn't the best option. It would do in a pinch, and he was in a tough spot thus qualifying as a pinch.
He knelt beside Marshal, noticing the cuts. Dragging his heavy ass up the hill had left marks. When he'd dropped Marshal, he'd landed funny on his arm which was now swelling. Rage built inside and he wanted to do more damage, instead he grabbed the wire and started to work it around Marshal's wrists. It was hard to manipulate. At first he was afraid he would hurt Marshal then he realized he'd kill the man without question so he wrapped the wire tighter around his wrists. If he cut off circulation, too bad.