Over the Top

by Cindy Dees

“Move.”

  Gunner threw on clothes, stomped into his boots, and was ready to go before Chas, so he scooped up all the baby gear and crammed it into the baby bag. He opened the hallway door and peered out cautiously while Chas scooped up Poppy behind him and wrapped her in a blanket.

  Signaling with his hand for Chas to follow, he raced out into the hall and took off running on his toes, as silently as possible. Chas was relatively quiet for an amateur but breathing heavily in what sounded like near panic.

  They reached the stairwell door, and he threw his shoulder against it as the elevator dinged in the middle of the long hallway. Gunner held the door for Chas to slip through ahead of him, and then Gunner leaned against the back side of the door to force it closed more quickly.

  There was no way of telling if the hostiles spotted it closing or not.

  “Run,” he breathed.

  Fortunately, they were only on the second floor, and it was a fast sprint down the stairs. They emerged into a hallway that matched the one overhead, and Gunner took the lead, running full-out to the middle of the building and turning left to the exit closest to their car.

  He slowed at the exit and eased the door open. Then they slipped outside, hugging the wall of the building. They were leaving footprints in the mulch under the bushes, but there was no help for it. Hopefully their pursuers weren’t trained trackers.

  They reached the car, and he eased the passenger door open for Chas, who slid in with Poppy. The toddler was starting to wake up.

  “Keep her quiet,” Gunner muttered as he closed the door. Chas stuffed a pacifier in her mouth as he let down the door handle slowly enough to make minimal noise. Then, with a sprint around to the driver’s side and a repeat of closing the door silently, he threw the car into Neutral and released the parking brake.

  He’d chosen this parking spot for its proximity to the exit and its slight downhill slope. Slowly, the car rolled forward. He turned the wheel and let it roll for perhaps thirty more seconds. It had nearly reached the end of the building before it started to lose momentum. At that point he started the engine and pulled away from the building.

  He accelerated away into the night, praying that the hostiles did not pursue them in their faster, more powerful SUV. To that end, he didn’t take the same road they’d come into town on and changed directions to head south and then back to the east. Most civilians fled in a single direction, straight away from pursuit, and he hoped the circuitous route would throw off the bad guys for a while at least. Long enough to figure out how in the hell they’d found him, Chas, and Poppy.

  “Chas, did you use a credit card in the past day without me seeing you do it?”

  “No.”

  “Make any phone calls?”

  “None. Why are you asking?”

  “They’ve got to be tracking us somehow. There’s no way they randomly showed up in a dinky town, hours away from Misty Falls, and went directly to our hotel. They even knew the floor we were on.”

  Chas’s eyes went wide. “How could they do that?”

  “Poppy,” he answered grimly. “They’ve got some sort of tracker on her. Or in her.”

  “In her?”

  “Sure. I’ve got one implanted under my shoulder blade. If I ever go missing, Uncle Sam can find me anywhere on earth.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Chas blurted.

  “Nope. Hurt like a bitch when they put it in too.”

  Chas frowned. “I don’t remember seeing any scars on Poppy when I gave her a bath.”

  “Tracker’s probably in her clothes. Do we still have the shirt and pants she was wearing the night you found her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Check them over. It’ll be a small metallic device about the size and shape of a grain of rice. It may be glued to the fabric, or it may be tucked inside a seam.”

  Before he checked the clothes, Chas turned around in the front seat, got on his knees, and carefully lifted Poppy into her car seat. “I’m worried about her. She’s gone silent again.”

  “She definitely picks up on fear in the adults around her,” Gunner agreed. “It’s come in handy a couple of times now.”

  “But it can’t be good for her emotional health,” Chas commented. “Here, sweetie. Suck on your pacifier while I make you a bottle.”

  Gunner snorted. Just like his mother, Chas was. When in doubt, feed people’s hurts and pains away.

  Once Poppy was sucking sleepily on a bottle, Chas dug in the baby bag and came up with a plastic grocery sack. He flopped back down in the front seat.

  “I wrapped her clothes up in case they were needed for evidence or something. I never dreamed they’d be used to follow us.” He paused, then added apologetically, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “You’re a civilian. It’s not your job to live in my world. I’m the one who should’ve thought to check for a tracking burr earlier.” Damn, he’d been off his game ever since he woke up in that hospital room.

  Chas opened the bag and began checking over the baby’s clothes. He found the burr in the hem of Poppy’s pants. “Oh my God. There it is. Should I throw it out the window?”

  “No!” Gunner exclaimed. He headed for the nearest highway, which took about a half hour to reach, and then he headed north until he found a truck stop at an exit. Chas started to pump gas for the car while Gunner jogged to the diesel fuel pumps where a few trucks were filling up. He found one with Canadian plates and surreptitiously opened the passenger door of the cab, dropped the burr on the front seat, and backed out of the truck.

  He checked on Poppy, who was fast asleep in her car seat, carefully locked the car doors, and headed inside quickly to find Chas.

  “Looking for the pretty blond guy?” the clerk asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “In the bathroom. But you’ll have to get in line. Couple other truckers followed him in there for a quickie.”

  Jesus H. Christ. Gunner charged down the aisle on full battle alert. He slipped into the bathroom low and fast, his blood ice cold in his veins.

  Chas stood with his back against a wall beside the sinks. He stood in a boxer’s stance, his fists up defensively, and he looked as if he was getting ready to kill these guys.

  “Can I help?” Gunner asked lightly.

  “With what?” Chas asked back coolly.

  “Beating the shit out of these assholes.”

  The two burly truckers crowding Chas spun around, scowling. They looked Gunner up and down, obviously weighing whether they could take him.

  “Don’t try it, boys. I’m an active-duty Navy SEAL, and my hands are considered lethal weapons. Consider yourself officially notified that I will fuck you up bad—or kill you—if you attack me.”

  One of the truckers snorted in disbelief, but the other looked a little less sure of himself.

  Disbeliever demanded, “What team you on?”

  “That, my friend, is none of your business. Which one do you want to take to school, Chasten?”

  “I’ll take the one on the left.”

  “Any bets on how long it’ll take to drop them both?”

  “Are we going for unconscious or in need of an ambulance?” Chasten asked casually.

  “Your call.”

  Chas nodded. “Ambulance.” He moved smoothly around the undecided truckers to stand shoulder to shoulder with Gunner, then murmured, “Show them your knife.”

  Chas had seen the Ka-Bar field knife he kept strapped in an ankle sheath, had he? In one blindingly fast motion, Gunner reached for it and held it out in a fighter’s stance, low and deadly. “Now with this little beauty, I can give you the closest shave of your life… as well as carve my initials on your faces.” He gave the knife a couple of graceful swings in front of him that made it crystal clear he knew how to handle the blade.

  Both of the truckers backed away.

  Gunner sheathed the knife as smoothly as he’d drawn it and smiled politely at the two men as Chas opened the door and slipped out into the hall.
“Have a nice evening, gentlemen. You drive safe out there.”

  He followed Chas to the car and Poppy, and once on the road again, they headed south on the highway. Gunner’s hands shook on the steering wheel, and more than once rage nearly made him turn the car around to go back and kill those bastards.

  Chas was pale and tense beside him. No surprise. Those truckers had thought they were going to gang rape the guy. Thank God he’d gotten there before things had become rough. Chas had always had fast hands in their martial arts classes down at the YMCA. Really fast. Which was a hell of an asset in a hand-to-hand fight.

  “You okay?” he finally asked when chatterbox Chas continued to be silent and withdrawn beside him. He was kind of like Poppy, come to think of it. “Talk to me. Please. You’re scaring me.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I’M SCARING you?” Chas exclaimed. He stared across the interior of the vehicle at Gunner, whose jaw looked carved from the same granite as the old mountains they passed by outside. “You’re a SEAL. Hell, you pulled out a knife back there as casual as can be. What the heck do you have to be afraid of?”

  Gunner snorted. “I’m scared shitless that something bad will happen to you and I won’t be there to protect you. Has anything like that happened to you before?”

  Chas looked away, staring out his window into the night. “Yeah. Now and then. I make no secret of being gay. I’ve had to defend myself a time or two. I took up boxing when you left Misty Falls, you know. I can handle myself in a fight.”

  “Have you been…?” Gunner hesitated and then said in a rush, “Have you ever been assaulted?”

  “As in raped? No. But I’ve had to beat up the odd asshole now and again.”

  “Who?” Gunner demanded. The cold steel in his voice was deeply gratifying. He sounded ready to kill whoever’d laid a hand on him.

  “It’s old history. And I’m better at spotting and avoiding jerks than I once was. I’m tired tonight, though, so I wasn’t paying attention.”

  A low sound emanated from Gunner’s throat, and it took Chas a second to identify it. The man had growled. Actually growled. The beginning of a smile curved his lips. It was nice to have someone be so protective of him. It had been a long time since—

  His train of thought derailed. The last time anyone had been this protective of him had been back in high school, when Gunner had scared off anyone who even thought about bullying him.

  “What?” Gunner asked quickly.

  “You’ve always been my knight in shining armor, haven’t you? You’re the only person who has always come to my defense, roaring like a lion and chasing off anyone who tries to mess with me.”

  A snort. “I’m a lot of things, but a knight in shining armor is not one of them.”

  “I dunno. Those truckers backed off plenty fast when you showed up.”

  “Don’t remind me of them. I’m already fighting with myself about going back and teaching them both a lesson.”

  “They’re not worth it. The world will always have its share of ignorant jerks. I learned a long time ago to just live my life and let others live theirs. You can’t change people who don’t want to be changed.”

  Gunner’s voice lowered into the tone of a confession. “I’m still pretty new to this. It may take me a while to arrive at your sense of calm over what other people think of you.”

  “You mean because I’m gay?” Chas was startled. “What do you mean, you’re new to this? New to what?”

  “New to embracing being gay.”

  A laugh escaped him before he could bite it off. “Well, of course you’re gay. I’ve known that since high school.”

  “How in the hell could you know when I didn’t?”

  “Dude. Every girl in the school threw themselves at you, and you didn’t even notice, let alone have any interest.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I was gay. It could have just meant I wasn’t interested in sex.”

  “Ahh, but you forget. I knew you were interested in sex.”

  Gunner’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel.

  A memory flashed through Chas’s mind of Gunner’s head thrown back, his young, athletic body arching forward, his cock thrusting into Chas’s mouth. The first time he’d given Gunner a blow job, it had almost been an accident. They’d been spending the night together at Chas’s house—Gunner’s parents were fighting again. Chas had a double bed they usually shared, and that night had been no different. He’d woken up from a hot dream about crawling all over Gunner, only to realize he actually was.

  He’d started to roll away, but Gunner had reached out wordlessly and stopped him. And by the time he’d gotten his mouth around Gunner’s cock, Gunner had been groaning in pleasure. He hadn’t stopped Chas from sucking him to a massive orgasm.

  The second time, he was supposed to pick Gunner up from football practice and drive him home, but he’d gotten off work late, and Gunner had been alone in the boys’ locker room by the time he arrived.

  Yeah, it was cliché. Blow jobs in the locker room. But damn, it had been hot. The danger of discovery had added an edge to that encounter that had both of them so turned on, it had only taken a few minutes to bring Gunner to a shouting orgasm he’d muffled with the sleeve of his varsity jacket stuffed in his mouth.

  After that they’d snuck away whenever they could. They never spoke of it, never even acknowledged it. But surely teen Gunner had known teen Chas was hopelessly in love with him.

  Chas sighed. He’d have done so many things differently if he had it to do over again. He’d have confronted Gunner about what was going on between them, forced him to acknowledge the mutual attraction. He wouldn’t have let Gunner float along pretending it was just sex—sex he could have had just as easily with any of the girls in school.

  He’d watched Gunner like a hawk back then, and the guy never—never—got a hard-on when one of the cheerleaders made a point of rubbing up against him or some girl threw herself at him at a party. But all Chas had to do was arch an eyebrow or let one corner of his mouth turn up from across the classroom, and Gunner was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  He wasn’t sure why the universe had given them this second chance, but he was not planning to waste it. To that end, he said, “You may get away with pretending you’re not gay to everyone else, but this is me you’re talking to. I know you, Gunner. Better than anyone else on this planet.”

  “You don’t know everything about me,” Gunner retorted.

  “Oh yeah? Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

  “I’ve killed people. Lots of them. In lots of ways. I blew some up—watched chunks of their bodies go flying. I’ve slit throats and heard a man’s death rattle as the guy died in my arms.”

  “Well, of course you have. You’re a SEAL, for crying out loud, not a Girl Scout.”

  Gunner frowned.

  Apparently, that grand declaration of being a killer was supposed to scare him off or something. “Why do you think I called you when I got into trouble?” Chas asked reasonably. “I needed someone who could handle serious danger and get me and Poppy out of there safely.”

  “So you only wanted me for my violent skills,” Gunner responded. He stated it as a fact, not a question.

  “In part.”

  That made Gunner look over at him. “What’s the other part?”

  “I wanted to see you again. We left a whole lot unresolved between us the last time we saw each other.”

  That did it. Gunner clammed up tighter than an oyster hiding a pearl, refusing to even look at Chas across the front seat.

  Dammit, had he pushed too hard again? Was Gunner still having a hard time with his sexual identity? He was tempted to force the man to admit he was in love, but maybe this wasn’t the moment. Chas stayed silent, unwilling to chance pushing Gunner into his cave of denial for another ten years.

  It took a long time, but Gunner’s fists eventually relaxed around the steering wheel.

  “Where are we go
ing?” Chas asked casually.

  “We’re heading toward Pennsylvania. It’s as good a place as any to park while we figure out what the hell’s going on with Poppy.”

  “Don’t swear,” he murmured automatically.

  Gunner glanced in the rearview mirror, presumably to check on Poppy, and murmured, “Fuck off.”

  Chas grinned at him, and praise the Lord, Gunner grinned back.

  Chapter Eight

  GUNNER LOOKED around the small cabin with approval. The log walls would hold up well in a firefight. Its placement, high on the side of a mountain, gave him great sight lines to the road approaching it. The lock on the front door was sturdy. It was probably meant for keeping out bears, but it would work on humans too. And best of all, it had two bedrooms, which meant Poppy would have her own room and he and Chas would have their own space.

  To do what, he wasn’t sure, but he thought he might just want to find out. Last night’s encounter before the hostiles had shown up had been… enlightening.

  He still had it as bad for Chas as he ever had, apparently.

  “What’s wrong?” Chas asked from the little kitchenette in the corner.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You were frowning as if you were bothered by something about this place.”

  “Oh. No. It’s fine.”

  “You wanna go take a nap? You drove most of the night. I’ll watch Poppy for a while.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Weren’t you the one who told me to sleep whenever I could because I wouldn’t know when I’d get to sleep again?”

  Gunner rolled his eyes. The guy had a point. “Fine. I’ll go take a nap.”

  He stretched out on the big bed and sighed at the comfort. He’d slept on the cold, hard ground more often than in a bed over the past decade, and he’d learned to appreciate having a soft mattress beneath him, with no stones poking him.

  He woke with a lurch sometime later to the sound of a car engine coming to a stop outside. He rolled out of bed and pulled the pistol out from under his pillow, all in one fast move. He raced on silent feet to the living room. There was no sign of Chas. He had to be in the other bedroom with Poppy. Good. Safely out of the line of fire.