by April Kelley
“Oh god. Please tell me you’re okay,” Max said.
“I’m fine. Fucker’s too stupid to check pockets for knives. Duct tape is so easy to cut through. Luckily for me, Harvey hired one of the dumbest criminals in the city to kidnap me. Ain’t that right, Dumb Criminal.”
Max heard someone cry out in pain and then the van swerved. “Sydney!”
“Wasn’t me. The driver had an accident. He’ll have another one if he fucks with me again. Twiggy, throw that fucking phone out the fucking window. I told you to get rid of it.”
Max saw something dark projectile itself from the front of the van a second later.
“We’re right behind you, baby.”
“Good. Because I’m gonna need back up once they take us to the drop off point. Dumb Criminal here says he was supposed to take me to Harvey, so I’m letting him do his job.”
Someone cried out again, and the van swerved slightly before righting itself. “Say thank you, Dumb Criminal.”
“Fuck you—”
“I’m gonna give you a little advice, just because I’m a nice guy like that. Next time you take a job, make sure you know your target. Oh wait, there won’t be a next time.”
They were headed into the warehouse district, Max noted as he looked around the area. A large field lay spread out to his right. A huge sign with a dark-lettered logo on it sat off in one corner of the lot. Max couldn’t make out the letters, but it looked like one of these signs that stated the site was for some sort of future business. A large warehouse sat next to that site and a smaller one was up ahead.
“Pull over, Dumb Criminal,” Sydney’s voice rang out once again. The van pulled over a few seconds later and then Sydney said, “Twiggy, get behind the wheel.”
Creed pulled up behind them.
“What are you gonna do?” Someone asked Sydney. The voice was muffled, and Max wasn’t sure if it was the Dumb Criminal or Twiggy. Max had never met either man so he couldn’t distinguish between them.
“I’m gonna save your ass, Twiggy. That’s all you need to know.” Sydney paused for a moment, and the van bounced from side to side. “I know where we’re going, Max. It’s five buildings down on the right.”
“Copy that, baby. Tell Twiggy to drive to the fourth building on the right and pull in.”
“Yep. That’s what I was gonna do.”
“Good.”
“Fourth building on this side of the street, Twig.” When the van still didn’t start up, Max got a little worried. “Drive. Now.”
“I don’t know how.”
Sydney sighed and then he said, “Okay, I’m gonna need one of you to come up here. Twiggy, get out and go to the truck behind us.”
“I’m on my way, Syd.”
Max got out of the truck and walked to the driver’s door just as a small man with dark brown hair and red-rimmed eyes stepped out from behind the wheel. He looked at Max as if he were a monster. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Max raised his arm, point to the truck. When he did that, Twiggy jumped and cringed.
“Jesus Christ, Twiggy,” Sydney’s voice came out to greet them from somewhere inside the van. “He’s the last guy you have to worry about right now.”
“Sorry.”
Max smiled at Twiggy, attempting to ease some of his fear. “The man driving the truck is named Creed. He’ll keep you safe.”
“He’ll give me drugs?”
Max’s eyebrows raised. “He’ll keep you safe,” Max repeated.
The man walked away from him then. Max watched to make sure he wasn’t so scared that he’d take off. Twiggy walked right over to the passenger side of the truck and pulled open the door. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, staring into the dark cab. Creed looked even more intimidating than Max did, so poor Twiggy was probably pissing himself.
“Tell him to get in the fucking truck,” Sydney said through their comm device.
Creed must have said something because Twiggy nodded and got in, shutting the door behind him.
Max got in the van and looked toward the back immediately. Sydney stood over a man who had his hands up. Sydney held a gun on him.
The seats in the van were all taken out in the back, so it was an open area for the most part. Just a roll of duct tape sat in the corner against the back door.
“Creed, Sydney and I got this. You can take Twiggy to the safehouse,” Max instructed.
Max turned around in the seat. “Hold on, baby.”
“I’m good.” Sydney never even turned around.
Max wanted to ask what Sydney had planned for their prisoner, especially when he told the man to get out of the van. If Sydney planned on killing the guy, then that might set their prisoner off, running for his life, and Max didn’t want to alert him to Sydney’s murderous intentions if they existed.
“Walk, Dumb Criminal.” Sydney held the gun’s barrel to the back of his head. “I’ve been in this building one other time before,” he whispered to Max.
Max listened as he looked around, making sure there wasn’t anyone else out there with them as they made their way around the fourth building.
“The inside of the building is mostly empty. There’s access to the roof from the outside of the building, but it’s not easy to get to. How good are you at climbing?” Sydney prodded their prisoner to keep walking.
“Not great,” Max said.
“From the roof, I was in the rafters.”
“Why?”
Sydney grinned. “Gathering intel.”
Max nodded again. “So you go up, and I’ll go in.”
“Deal.” Sydney looked at him for several seconds. “Where’s your gun?”
“Gave it to you.”
“You only have one?”
Max shrugged. “I’m more of a hands-on type of guy.”
Sydney smiled. “I’m very aware of how hands-on you are.”
Max smiled, but he was too weirded out to really appreciate the comment.
“What’s wrong?” Sydney asked him.
Max clicked off his comm device before saying, “Have a weird feeling.”
Sydney nodded, not questioning him, which was nice. He honestly wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone else. Max clicked his comm device a second later.
“The warehouse you guys are about to go into is owned by Guthrie, not Victoria Mize,” Germ explained to them.
“Copy that,” Max whispered. They stopped at the edge of the building and Sydney looked around before he grabbed the back of Dumb Criminal’s shirt, propelling him across the small parking lot and to a grassy ravine where they would be somewhat hidden.
“You say a word or yell out, and I’ll pull the trigger,” Sydney whispered to Dumb Criminal.
Dumb Criminal nodded his head, complying with Sydney’s instructions. Sydney must have pushed him down, because the man went down on his knees.
Max watched the man carefully. If he was going to try something, it would be as they were walking to Guthrie’s warehouse.
“Guthrie’s in there?” Sydney asked Dumb Criminal.
“I was just supposed to drop you off here.”
“What does Guthrie look like?” Max asked Germ through his device.
“Sending a photo to your phone,” Germ said.
At the same time, Dumb Criminal answered him. “He’s older. Like mid-sixties. Bald. Tall, but not as tall as you are. He’s in shape.”
Max felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, looking at the man that was presumably Harvey Guthrie. Max showed the picture to Sydney. “I’ve seen him already. In person.”
“How the hell can anyone get him mixed up with you?”
“I know, right,” Germ agreed through their devices. “He’s so wrinkled looking, and you’re so... hot. I don’t get it.”
“Shut up, Germ,” Max whispered.
“Shutting up. Hey, do you want Guthrie’s info really quick?”
“Yeah,” Max answered.
<
br /> “He worked for Reggie and Victoria’s father for thirty-two years. Mostly, he kept his nose clean, providing security. Reggie told me that Guthrie did some illegal activity, but it was never as a hitman. It was mostly providing safe passage for gunrunners. Reggie’s dad kept the cops away from the guns going in and out of the country illegally and they gave him a certain percentage of the profits. After Reggie’s father died, Guthrie latched on to Victoria. He’s been loyal to her since, doing her bidding.”
“Copy that,” Sydney whispered.
Max gestured for Sydney to go to the building, forgetting for a moment that Sydney hadn’t been a member of the team for very long and might not know what the hand gesture meant. “Go. I’ll go once you’re on the roof.”
Sydney nodded and then leaned in, giving him a kiss. A second later, he tried to hand him the gun.
Max shook his head. “You’re gonna take Guthrie out from the rafters. You’ll need that.”
“I have one in my waistband too. This one is Dumb Criminal’s gun.”
Max shook his head. “I don’t need it, baby.”
“What about Dumb Criminal?”
Max reached over and pinched Dumb Criminal’s neck. The man passed out a couple seconds later, slumping over to the side.
Sydney stared at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. Sydney grinned a second later. “You gotta teach me to do that.”
“Only if you give me a lap dance when we get home.”
“Did Max just say lap dance?” Germ asked through the earpiece.
“Deal,” Sydney said, ignoring Germ. Sydney put the gun on safety and handed it to Max again. “I’d feel better, okay.”
Max smiled at him and took it. He put it in the waistband of his pants. “I won’t use it.”
“Seriously? Justin’s been trying to get you to carry a gun for years and you won’t. Sydney tells you he’s worried, and you take it. Man, you are so whipped.” Germ said with a chuckle. “He’s right though, Sydney. He doesn’t need a gun.”
Sydney took off down the small ravine and up the other side quickly. The moon was full enough for Max to see Sydney’s shadowy figure run across the parking lot to the side of the building. He seemed to use the corner siding to climb up. It was impressive the way Sydney defied gravity.
Max wasn’t going to lie to himself and pretend Sydney’s skills didn’t turn him on a little. “He just climbed the side of a building,” Max whispered to Germ.
“How?”
“I have no idea, but it was totally hot.”
Max could hear Sydney chuckle. “You mind helping me out here, fuck boy?”
Right. Max stepped over Dumb Criminal’s prone body and made his way down the ravine. He didn’t run the way that Sydney had. Instead he strolled up the small incline and then across the parking lot as if he owned the place. He went over to the side of the building and pounded his fist against the corrugated siding and began to sing at the top of his lungs.
“What the fuck, Max. What are you doing?” Sydney asked, clearly fearful for Max’s life. But he was barely speaking either, which told Max that Sydney was already in the rafters, near enough to Guthrie to keep his voice low.
“How many people are in the building?” Max stopped singing long enough to ask.
“Four. Two are coming your way.”
“Copy that.” Max waited just outside a side door, hoping it was the one Guthrie’s men would use to come find him. He’d make it easy for them. He started singing again when the door opened. He never stopped singing as two men in identical gray suits came out of the door, guns at the ready. Max held out his arm, hitting one of the men in the throat before either man had a chance to identify his location. The man dropped his gun instantly and brought his hands up to his neck, trying to prevent himself from choking to death. It was no use, though. Not that Max took the time to tell the guy that before a gun was shoved in his face.
Max held up his hands as if he were ready to surrender.
“Turn around,” the man told him, and Max did what he said.
He could feel the gun’s barrel pressing against his back and the gun Sydney had given him was taken out of his waistband. The pressure became stronger when the gunman reached for the door that had slammed shut moments ago. When he did, Max turned just enough to grab the gunman’s hand, twisting it with a flick of Max’s wrist. The man cried out and went down on his knees when Max forced him to. He took the man’s gun from him and slammed it against his head. The gunman dropped like a stone. Max threw his gun as far away as he could get it.
When he opened the door, a man stood there with a gun held at eye level. Max recognized Guthrie from his picture. Guthrie gestured with the gun for him to come in and Max complied, his hands up in surrender. “I’m unarmed.”
“Where’s Sydney Marshall?” Guthrie asked.
“Who?” Even as Max said it, he was looking right at Sydney. Sydney was perched in the rafters of the building like an avenging angel. He had a gun aimed at Guthrie, who was behind Max. Max knew he was in the kill zone and that Sydney wouldn’t take the shot because of it.
There was another man who stood off to the side, his gun held on Max. Max had to get him out of the way somehow.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Guthrie said, leading Max over to a chair in the center of the room. “Sit.”
Max did as he was told. He didn’t have a direct line of sight to Sydney anymore. Instead, Max had to turn his head to see him, which he was afraid to do, just in case Guthrie got wise. “What makes you think I’m fucking with you?”
Guthrie lowered his gun, putting it away. Max saw the punch coming even before Guthrie raised his fist. Max could immediately taste blood in his mouth and spit it out before looking at Guthrie again, grinning at the man like he had a death wish. Really, he was preparing for Guthrie to wear himself out and send over his goon. Guthrie threw another punch, and when he did Max came up with another plan.
Guthrie’s punch landed on his forehead. The pain exploded just above his upper eye.
“Where’s Marshall?”
“He’s about ready to kill your hired gun.” Max didn’t even have to wait a full second before the gunshot rang out. Guthrie’s hired gun fell to the ground, a bullet hole through his forehead.
Max was on Guthrie in an instant, throwing himself against the man, sending them both to the floor. Max punched Guthrie in the face once, trying to stop him from struggling just long enough to get his hands around the man’s throat. He squeezed and watched Guthrie’s face turn red and then purple.
Max couldn’t hear or see anything but the man underneath him. It was as if he was looking at everything through a tunnel. The need to kill Guthrie, who wanted to hurt Sydney, road him hard.
“Your fingerprints are on his body, Max. Shit.” Sydney’s voice came to him through that tunnel, hollow and stale. Then he felt Sydney at his back, breathing against his ear. “You can’t take him out like that. Your DNA is all over him. Max, come on. Let go.”
Max’s hold let up, and he let Guthrie go. Guthrie took in long breaths of air at the same time Sydney took Max’s arm and pulled him up.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Syd.”
Sydney pulled Max into his arms. “I know.”
Max pulled Sydney even closer. “Um... Germ?”
“You okay, man?” Max could hear a quietness in Germ’s voice that people got when they were talking to what they thought was a crazy person.
Instead of answering Germ’s question, Max said, “Ask Justin what he wants us to do with Guthrie.”
“He’s still alive?”
“Yeah.”
“Justin says to bring him in. He might be able to give us locations to Victoria’s operation.”
Shit. “Copy that.”
Max let Sydney go long enough to kick Guthrie’s gun further away from him. Considering Sydney still had his gun trained on the man, he hadn’t been too worried about it.
/> “The thought of spending two fucking hours in a car with you makes me want to kill you right now,” Max whispered to Guthrie.
Sydney put a hand on Max’s back and handed him some zip-ties. Where he got them, Max had no idea. He didn’t waste time putting the ties on Guthrie, though.
Chapter Ten
Max watched Sydney out of the corner of his eye as he drove them back to the Lakehouse. They had just dropped Guthrie off at the local police station, and Max was ready to call it a night. He was so tired he could barely drive them home. The fact that Sydney practically vibrated with energy baffled Max.
“Are you okay?” Max asked for the third time in ten minutes.
“Yeah.”
The second Max pulled into the garage and shut off the truck’s engine, Sydney was on him, straddling his lap. Max had his arms full of the man as he managed to wedge himself between Max and the steering wheel. Sydney’s tongue was in his mouth so quickly it took Max a full second to respond.
Max recovered, though, giving Sydney as good as he got. He moaned when he felt Sydney’s hard cock against his stomach muscles. Max ran his hands over Sydney’s ass cheeks, suddenly wanting his clothing to magically disappear. He pushed Sydney’s shirt up just enough to get his hands on hot skin. Max pulled the gun out of the waistband of Sydney’s pants and put it in the passenger’s seat. He put his hand where the gun had been, running a finger down the crack.
Sydney moved up, which pushed Max’s finger against his crack even more.
Sydney broke the kiss long enough to lick and nip a trail along his jaw.
“You do know your comm devices are still active, right?” Germ said.
“Fuck off,” Sydney said and went right back to kissing Max’s neck.
Max chuckled, but it turned into a moan quickly. “Baby, let go upstairs.”
“Let’s fuck here.” Sydney’s voice was slightly muffled as his lips moved against his skin. When Sydney nipped him with his teeth, Max moaned again.
“It’s not fucking, baby. And I’m not treating you like some cheap piece of ass.” Even as Max said the words, he managed to get his finger against Sydney’s hole, pressing on it, although he didn’t enter it yet.
