Alex sighed, shook his head, unfolded his arms, and wrapped them around him. Fuck, it felt so fucking good, he hiccupped and fisted his hands into the man’s shirt. It was more than he deserved and for the first time in a very long time, the horrible ache that had started in his chest the day he left Alex abated.
This man’s arms were the only haven he’d ever felt safe in. Right from the moment they’d closed around him so many years ago. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as he fisted Alex’s shirt.
“I forgave you a long time ago, Micah,” Alex whispered next to his ear.
He nodded against Alex’s chest because that was all he could do. Words failed him.
“Now, you need to forgive yourself. And you need to forgive me.” Alex swallowed, the pleading words faded.
Micah jerked his head up, holding the man’s gaze. He stepped back and took Alex’s hand and drew him into one of the conference rooms.
Shutting the door, Micah walked to the middle of the room and then spun. Alex stared at him.
“It isn’t your fault that we can’t find Caleb.” He paused and Alex said nothing for a long time.
Then the proud man he’d come to love so fiercely walked over to look out one of the wide windows that overlooked the city. Micah waited with his heart in his throat.
“I know,” Alex said in that quiet, deep voice of his.
Micah looked at the rigid set of the man’s shoulders and he moved to stand at his side.
The soldier took a deep breath. “I’ve done everything in my power to find him. I want you to know that.”
“I do know that.” Micah slipped his arm around the man’s waist and leaned into his side. “We both have.”
Micah held on tightly when Alex turned suddenly and wrapped him up tight, burying his face in his neck.
“I’m sorry I held on so tightly,” Alex croaked against his neck. “It stems from my need to protect you.”
“I know. Just remember, I can make my own choices,” he said.
“I know you can.” Alex pulled back and smiled down at him.
Micah reached up and cupped the back of the man’s neck.
“And I promise,” he said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”
Micah held the soldier’s searching gaze.
A knock at the door drew their heads around.
“Come in,” he called.
Noah poked his head in. “Hey guys,” he looked them over. “I’m your third.”
“All right then.” Alex looked at Noah and then at him. “Let’s find Jagger Miller.”
Micah was quiet as he followed them, his mind going a mile a minute. Had they just decided to give their relationship another go? He sure the hell hoped so.
Alex broke into his thoughts by pulling him to a stop and bringing his hand upward to press a kiss in his palm.
“All good?”
“Yeah,” Micah breathed. “Really good.”
Alex
After two days of combing through maps and searching, they needed a break. He took the exit that would take them to his mother’s house.
“What are we doing here?” Micah asked him tightly. “I’m not ready.”
Suddenly, the tender man over the past few days had changed into a tight lipped stranger in a matter of moments. But Alex knew better, this was how Micah dealt with things he didn’t want to face. This was also the way the man reacted when he thought Alex was taking control. Maybe he had taken control, but he wasn’t going to be perfect at this, they both would need to make concessions and work at a compromise.
“I know she wants to see you.”
“You should have asked!” Micah snapped. Alex pinched at the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache.
“I’m sorry,” he said into the suddenly thick silence. “You’re right, I should have asked.”
After a moment, Micah said, “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
He heard the catch in the man’s voice.
“Don’t apologize. I keep trying to control things,” he sighed, and then vehemently added, “We will work it out.”
Micah turned and kissed him and Alex lifted a hand to cup the back of the man’s neck to hold him in the slow kiss. It was a kiss full of promise and love. His chest ached. They drew apart and Alex leaned his forehead against Micah’s.
“We both will,” Micah whispered.
The door swung open and his mother stepped out onto the porch. Alex lifted his head and from there, he saw her wringing her hands together, her expression worried.
“Ready?”
Micah nodded and opened the door to slip out. Stepping out of the truck and grabbing their bags, Alex followed Micah up the walk way.
“Oh, my boy!” His mother took Micah’s hand and drew him into the house. Alex toed the door closed as his mother hugged Micah tightly for a long, long time.
Micah seemed to sink into her arms and hugged her back tightly. They drew apart and held each other’s gazes for a moment.
“Mom, we’ll put our stuff away and be right there,” Alex told her.
She nodded and sniffled, patting Micah’s cheek. “The food is ready when you both are.” With that, she disappeared back toward the kitchen.
Micah stood staring after her. The man jumped when he took his hand as if he’d forgotten he was there. He led the way to the spare bedroom.
“How about something to eat?” Alex placed the overnight bag on the floor of the spare room and turned, leaning against the door jam.
“Not hungry.”
“You said you were earlier and I know you haven’t eaten,” he pointed out.
Micah shrugged and he lifted the bag and walked to the closet to start putting away his clothes.
“No home cooked meal?” he tempted.
Micah shook his head and dropped the shirt he was holding.
Not giving Micah a moment to dodge, he crowded him up against the closet door. It took only a moment before the man’s arms slipped up and around his neck, hands fisting into the back of his hair. Micah held on like he couldn’t bear to let him go. Alex brought his own arms tight around the man’s waist.
“It’s so hard,” Micah choked out.
Alex’s heart ached at the hollow echo in the man’s voice.
“I know,” he said, and brushed his lips against Micah’s shorn head.
Somewhere in the distance, a pot banged and utensils rattled.
“She’s letting us know she’s here. How about we let her feed us?” he said.
Micah let out a laugh that turned into a sob. “How am I going to tell her?”
“We’ll find the words somehow,” he said around the lump in his throat.
Micah
He loved Alex’s mother. She’d accepted him into Alex’s life without any hesitation, and then Caleb. From the moment Micah had brought Caleb home, Maria had taken one look at his dark, curly-haired brother and hugged him in her arms. His brother had been too thin, a result of his teenage growth spurt, and she’d cuddled the boy and started to fatten him up, she called it. And amazingly, his normally independent brother had let her. She’d told Caleb to call her Nana and he had.
Maria released him and he drew back. She patted his cheek and for the one hundredth time, he wondered what he and Caleb would have been like if they’d had a mother like her. He would have wanted to be here in her house all of the time.
“It smells amazing,” he said, trailing after her into the kitchen minus Alex, who had altered his route to the restroom to wash up. Micah moved to the sink and washed his hands.
She was there when he turned, handing him a paper towel.
“Mijo.” Alex’s mother reached out again and pulled him close.
He stooped so she could wrap her arms around him and he hugged her tight, holding her for one more long moment.
“Mom,” he whispered.
“I bet you’re starving.” She sniffled, stepping back again and wiping her cheeks. “Just look at you. Skin a
nd bones,” she fussed, shooing him to the table.
The kitchen smelled like heaven. A red sauce simmered on the stove and piping hot garlic bread was arranged on a platter before she carried it to the table. He reached for the tongs and forked already dressed salad into three bowls, one for each of them.
“You’ve been away a long time,” she said, carrying the pot to the table and placing it on a hot plate.
“I have.” He swallowed, avoided her searching gaze and scooped some of the spaghetti sauce and meatballs into his empty bowl. Taking a piece of garlic bread, he tore off a chunk and ate it.
Alex entered the kitchen rubbing his hands together. “I’m starving!” The man’s tone was forced exuberance, but Micah nor apparently his mother were going to dissuade Alex from keeping the atmosphere light.
“Me too,” Micah agreed and Maria smiled.
Not much was said after that, each dishing up plates and digging in until the meal was over. They sat around the empty plates for a few minutes.
“So, you went to different countries?” Maria asked him.
“I did. Switzerland and Russia.”
“Not China or Japan?”
“No, not this time.”
“I miss the cherry blossoms and the children.” She smiled.
“You’ve never been to Switzerland, Mom. You’d love it,” Alex said.
“I suspect it’s cold.”
“It is, but you just have to wear the right clothing,” Micah agreed.
She held his gaze.
Micah froze in the act of wadding his napkin up into a ball.
“Is Caleb dead?” her voice wobbled.
“Mom…” Alex said.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, interrupting Alex.
“Micah?” she worried, searching his eyes.
All he had to go on were the ravings of a madman. Caleb had been gone for over a year and the man that took him had confessed he was dead.
He closed his eyes against the sting and swallowed with difficulty. He finally met her gaze.
Her eyes instantly filled with tears.
She knew. He could tell she knew without him even saying a word.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
Alex stood and went to his mother. He lifted her up to stand and then wrapped her up tightly. Her soft sobs filled the room.
Micah shoved up from his chair and walked out the back door. The enclosed porch faced the hillside with wild grass and shrubs. The patio furniture was thick and sturdy and he sank into Caleb’s favorite chair. Drawing one leg to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his knee. He bowed his head and rested his forehead on his knee.
After a while, Alex came out the back door but he didn’t lift his head.
The man placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. A hot cup of coffee was placed on the table next to his chair. He must have been sitting there longer than he’d thought if Alex had time to make coffee. Alex took a seat on the other side of him like they’d done so many times before.
So many times, he’d come here to pick up Caleb after school and walked into a home filled with the smell of a home cooked meal ready and waiting.
He reached for the cup and took a small sip and it rattled on the table when he placed it back down.
“How is she?”
“She’s resting.”
“What are we going to do?” He hated the sudden despair in his voice but couldn’t be bothered to change it.
He lifted his eyes to Alex.
“Keep searching until we know one way or the other.”
Alex
It took a few days, but after putting the word out, Jagger Miller finally contacted Micah as planned and arranged to meet them at a secure location.
They were headed back to Alaska. Mac and Jake, along with a marshal named Sterling Fisk, had driven up in a black SUV and jumped on board before their plane took off. Phoenix was glad for the extra muscle.
It took close to six hours to fly from San Francisco to Anchorage. Alex had never been so fucking glad he’d dressed in his military cold weather gear. Alaskan weather showed no mercy and he pulled his thick bandana up over his face to prevent ice crystals from forming on his nose hair. He slipped on his shades to protect his eyes from the sun glinting off the snow.
They located the building where Jagger Miller had said to meet him. Only when they arrived, the place was under attack and local SWAT were on site.
Striding over, he moved up to stand in the group of men clustered at a small command center. Roscoe took charge after a quick call to Chief Rossi.
“Phoenix will breach and get Jagger; the Marshals and SWAT will secure the rest of the building,” Roscoe ordered.
A few moments later, they entered the building when Roscoe gave the order. The door gave way beneath a battering ram and Phoenix entered the office building. They split up from there, three of the unit went left, three went right, and he, Micah, Storm, and Wild went dead center.
Under the cover of darkness, they cleared hallways and rooms. A suspect jumped out of an open door and opened fire. The soft snick, snick of Wild’s gun ended the guy. Alex kept moving fast. The place was massive and Jagger could be anywhere inside.
Another suspect came after the first. He took a swing at Alex and he ducked, came up, and fisted the man’s shirt, then spun and slammed the guy against the wall. The guy grabbed the hands fisting his shirt and they fought. The guy kicked and it glanced off his thigh. Alex growled, spun, and tossed the guy toward Storm. The sniper smashed a meaty fist into the guy’s nose with a loud crack. The perp went down and Wild leaped in to zip-tie and tape the guy’s mouth shut.
“Terminator,” Wild whispered to Storm in passing and the man grunted.
Alex moved along the hallway. Between the four of them, it wasn’t a fair fight for the suspects they came across. Two more perps was subdued, zip-tied, and gagged.
“US Marshals!” Mac’s booming voice came over the mic and echoed from somewhere in the building.
Roscoe came in through the hallway and Alex and the rest of the unit moved in, flanking the lieutenant.
“You fuckers!” someone shouted from ahead and Roscoe gave the pause signal. All of them stopped, dropping into stillness, waiting on the boss.
“Team one,” Roscoe said, and pointed at a door to his right.
Alex twisted the doorknob and it gave way. He went in low and across to the other end of the conference-type room they’d heard the shouting come from. Micah, Wild, and Frost were on his six.
Running at a crouch, he made it to hunker down below a conference room window. Micah darted in and crouched by his side. He lift up a bit to see through the glass and into the conference room. Three suspects surrounded a bloody and beaten man tied to a chair. Micah took a peek in the window and ducked back down.
“That’s Jagger.”
Alex nodded and, keeping low, he moved to the conference room door. He reached up and put his hand on the door knob.
“Team one in position,” he whispered into his mic, holding Micah’s gaze.
“Breach,” Roscoe ordered.
He shoved open the door and Micah, Wild, and Frost followed.
Micah shot out the florescent lights overhead, plunging the room into total darkness. Frost and Wild disappeared into the darkness.
At the same time, the other door gave way. Roscoe, Seth, and Storm powered into the room staying low. The perps opened fire.
Alex dove beneath the heavy conference table and slid along the floor, yanking the feet out from beneath a suspect. Micah’s knife flashed and he heard the grunt of pain before the perp gurgled and stilled.
One perp ran out through a separate hall door where Allison, Noah, and Rush were waiting. A few moments later, Allison’s voice came through the mic.
“Hallway secure,” she said.
Gunfire echoed as the suspects continued firing, followed by the returning quiet snick, snick of Phoenix. The room filled with a series of shouts, grunts, and curses.
“Crawl,” Alex ordered, and they all three skidded along beneath the heavy, massive conference table.
“We got six across the hall,” Roscoe’s voice came over the mic. “Who’s got Miller?”
“Me and Micah,” Alex responded.
“Get him out of the building,” Roscoe ordered.
“On it,” he replied.
They reached the end of the conference room table. It ended just shy of the door and the hallway provided just enough light to see.
Several shots were fired and the window to the conference room suddenly shattered into a million pieces and glass sprayed the floor hitting the top of the heavy oak table and showering the floor around them.
“Fuck,” he muttered when he noticed Jagger was barefoot.
More suspects spilled into the room ahead, the one that held their exit. He lifted his gun and took out two perps. Frost and Seth came in from behind the suspects and closed in. Micah lunged up and into the fray, knife flashing in one hand and his gun firing in the other, and Alex followed. They all four quickly dispatched the perps.
When the area was cleared, Alex hurried back and pulled Jagger upright and lifted him into a fireman carry.
Reaching the door, tactical SWAT stood with it open. The unit, with Phoenix emblems emblazoned on each chest, moved out into the clear night.
Once he stepped out of the back door, several men moved in to take Jagger from his back.
Jagger winced when he was lowered to a gurney. The man’s eyes held his. “Thank you.”
Alex nodded. “We’re looking for Mez.”
“They were talking about his location because they thought I was as good as dead.” Jagger gave them an address a few blocks from here.
“You heard him,” Roscoe said through the mic. “Get a bead on that address, this is far from over.”
Destruction Page 21
