“Ever learn any self-defense?”
“Nope.” Noah grinned, putting an extra emphasis on the P, causing Mac to grin back.
“Well, you are now.”
After that, Mac brought him there as much as possible and taught him street fighting.
Noah loved every minute of it. Even though he got his ass handed to him more times than not, at least he got to do some hands-on with Mac. And hands-on with Mac made Noah’s day.
The day Noah knew he was getting better at fighting was when he managed to trip Mac to the mat and get the marshal in a headlock. Mac tapped out and Noah jumped to his feet and bounced on his toes, doing the Rocky Balboa dance.
“That was good. Let’s do it again. Remember, stay focused.” Mac’s deep voice grounded him, and Noah drew in a long, slow breath and then just as slowly, pushed it out. Mac cautioned him to stay calm and not get overexcited. The man said that keeping his cool would help him win a fight.
“Mind over matter,” Noah stated, reciting Mac’s words back to him.
Mac chuckled. “That’s right,” he agreed, and then lifted one hand and gave Noah a come-at-me gesture.
Noah willingly dodged in and then jumped back. They circled each other, waiting for the other to show weakness. Or, as Mac had told him many times, wait for your opponent to take the step that would put him off-balance.
Noah craved the times they were close. The sweaty marshal was so freaking hot. He smelled so good; like sweat, soap, and masculine power.
Frustratingly, Mac never gave any indication that he was interested in having more with him than a friendship. Mac pointed out that a nine-year age difference separated them. Plus, he was a minor. It wasn’t a big deal to Noah. In fact, he preferred older guys. Well, he hadn’t actually dated any guys, but when he looked at pictures, he had always been drawn to older men.
The room tilted, and Noah’s back slammed to the mat. Winded, he looked up between strands of sweaty hair and met the icy blue eyes of the man he was falling for.
“You’re not paying attention,” Mac admonished, then reached a hand out.
Noah let himself be pulled upward and tried to trip Mac in the process. Mac stepped back, but Noah followed, and they went down in a laughing heap to the floor.
“Brat,” Mac grumbled as they both moved to their feet.
Not what he wanted to be called, but Noah loved this teasing side of Mac.
“So, I’m thinking of studying criminology.” Noah darted a glance at Mac and then looked away. “I want to be somebody someday,” he finished quickly, and then looked up when Mac placed both hands on his shoulders.
Their eyes met. “Just make sure it’s what you really want and not because you think it’s expected.”
“Why?” Noah asked curiously.
“The difference is obligation, and I think you know what that means.”
“Yeah, you mean don’t go into law enforcement just because you have.”
“Yes,” Mac said.
“But you think I can do it, right?” Noah wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear from Mac, but the man’s next words sent warmth brimming over him.
“Yeah, Noah. I think you can do anything you put your mind to.”
He loved spending time with Mac. The man was definitely an alpha type, but so different than what he was used too. Mac was gruff yet kind, not a man of many words. Noah had to work at getting a smile from Mac, but it was worth it.
The big man was careful around him and never touched him like Noah yearned. But that didn’t stop Noah from wishing Mac would wrap him up in his strong arms and take his lips with a kiss. He worked hard at acting mature, so Mac would see him as more than a kid.
The shopping mall parking lot was crowded. He couldn’t remember ever coming to a place this big. This was the same place Jake had taken Jenny to get clothes. Of course, now she needed matching shoes.
When Jake and Jenny disappeared through the mall entrance, Noah found himself trailing after Mac. He really had no choice because Mac had placed a hand at the small of his back. Noah craved Mac’s touch, so he wasn’t complaining at all. Really, it was all he could do to keep his eager dick from doing a happy dance in his sweats.
“What are we doing here?” Noah blinked, gazing around.
“Let’s get some food and buy you some clothes. Or maybe the clothes first and then the food.”
Noah wrinkled his nose. He was definitely tired of the too baggy clothes he’d found in the closet of his room. “Definitely, but it will be awhile before I can pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it, WITSEC will give you enough money to cover expenses for a while,” the man said, leaving Noah feeling stunned.
Money of his own to spend? He was still trying to wrap his head around that when they stepped inside the crowded mall. Noah couldn’t get over how many stores and people filled the place. He was glad that with Mac’s impressive build, it was easy to keep track of the marshal in the crowded mall. Not that he needed to worry about it, Mac had taken hold of his arm when Noah lagged behind.
After purchasing clothes, Mac guided him into a silver and leather store. At the counter, everything was behind glass, and it wasn’t until the store clerk pulled several intricate leather bands from a tray that Noah found Mac watching him closely.
“Pick one,” Mac encouraged, nodding at the tray.
He stared at Mac for a long time before turning and looking over the beautiful and expensive bands. They were gorgeous and much nicer than the scrap of leather he’d found and fashioned around his wrist. His fingers hovered over a thin, soft, black leather band with one delicate, silver angel’s wing attached to the leather by intricate stitches. It was freaking beautiful but way too expensive.
Regretfully, he moved on and picked a thicker band. He had to keep the wound on his wrist hidden to keep up appearances. But Manning wasn’t there, so maybe he didn’t.
The thicker one was nice, but the other band kept pulling his gaze. Tearing his eyes away, he firmly handed the thick leather band to the man.
“This one, please,” Noah said.
“And this one,” Mac added, plucking the beautiful band with the silver angel wing from the tray.
The man behind the counter smiled. “Excellent choice, sir.”
Noah sat watching Mac through the windshield of the SUV. Mac had gotten off the freeway before pulling over next to a roadside stand. The man got out and bought a bunch of flowers and although Noah wondered why, he didn’t ask.
A few miles down the road, Mac pulled into a cemetery.
“I’ll be right back,” the marshal said after parking the SUV. Mac got out and walked across the grass, avoiding headstones until he stopped before one and placed the flowers in the vase in front of it. He looked so totally alone, standing strong against the wind.
Mac’s lips moved as he talked to the grave, and Noah could tell this was someone important to Mac by the way his fingers lingered on the gray headstone. Something about Mac standing alone near the grave caused a tightness in Noah’s chest, and he found himself leaving the warmth of the SUV.
Mac looked up when he shut the vehicle’s door, and their eyes met across the distance. Noah didn’t approach. He just wanted Mac to know he was there if the man needed him. A moment later, Mac approached and they both silently got back into the vehicle.
“Was that a friend?” Noah asked tentatively.
“Family,” Mac said brusquely, and Noah turned to glance out the window, swallowing the lump in his throat, and then looked back at Mac.
His gaze was drawn to the dark-haired man with a sexy five o’clock shadow growing along a chiseled jawline. Although he couldn’t see it from this side, the scar running down the left side of the man’s face gave Mac a dangerous look. In the close confines of the vehicle, Noah was very aware of the power in Mac’s corded arms and shoulders. The muscular chest he’d been held against during the escape drew his eyes time and again.
Mac took a series of side streets bef
ore getting them back to the safe house. Sitting on the couch, he tracked the marshal with his eyes, watching as the man turned on the television and selected a station. Jake and Jenny were on their way back but had stopped for a bite to eat.
He found himself staring at Mac’s trim hips. His eyes darted away before returning after a brief moment to lock on Mac’s ass. Freaking hell, no way would a man like Mac want him. Yet that didn’t stop him from wishing. He would have given anything for Mac to look at him and see someone other than a needy WITSEC victim.
Mac stalked back toward him, and Noah jerked his gaze to the television. Despite feeling displaced and scared, he felt better with Mac nearby. The man hadn’t said a word since they’d returned from the cemetery, and Noah couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong.
Mac dropped onto the couch next to him. The marshal’s scent reached his nose, and his overactive imagination pictured Mac’s scent on his body and how that would possibly work. His pulse suddenly hummed in his ears. The man’s weight dipped the cushion, and one massive thigh innocently brushed against his leg. Instant arousal hit, and Noah lifted one of the small decorative pillows to clutch in his lap.
Mac scowled at him, and Noah shifted beneath the somewhat angry stare. Again, he wondered if he’d done something wrong. The normally kind man was missing, and in his place was an irritated stranger.
The marshal’s phone rang, and Mac’s eyes narrowed before he answered it.
“Mackenzie,” Mac snapped.
“If you have stuff to do, I’m fine on my-” Noah stopped when Mac shushed him with a stern look.
Mac
Thank fuck the phone rang and took him away from Noah’s soulful, hungry gaze.
Although the name flashing on his phone came with a whole other set of problems, Mac answered it to avoid the teenager who was too fucking tempting for his own good. Mac would never treat Noah with anything other than professionalism, but the kid was getting to him, stretching every one of his nerves fucking raw.
“Mac?” Ben questioned.
“Ben, I’m busy,” he said, walking into the kitchen.
“I need you, Mac.” Ben sounded drunk.
“Ben, you can’t keep doing this.” Mac rubbed a hand at the back of his neck.
“There’s nobody else,” the man slurred.
“Where are you?” Mac sighed. If Ben was out driving around drunk, Mac might need to call in a favor.
“I’m with friends, but they’re assholes,” Ben complained, then dropped the phone with a bang, causing Mac to pull his own phone away from his ear.
“You there?” Ben demanded.
“Listen, Ben, you need to figure your shit out. I can call you a taxi,” Mac offered.
“I want to come back to you,” Ben begged for the one-hundredth time.
“You left. There’s no coming back,” Mac pointed out, tired of the same conversation.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose and glanced through the open door to where Noah sat on the sofa, clutching a pillow to his lap. The young man’s eyes were focused on the television, but his long, slender fingers were endlessly twisting the new black leather band at his wrist. It bothered Mac that he couldn’t get a read on the younger man. It bothered him even more that he wanted to take Noah into his arms and offer a lot more than comfort.
His thoughts had him acting like an asshole to Noah, but he had to put the brakes on his own fucking fantasies. Earlier, he’d shocked the hell out of himself, imagining the young man’s ass beneath his hands. He sighed hard into the phone.
“I, I know. But I want to come back. I made a mistake,” Ben was saying in his ear.
“You’re drunk,” Mac said bluntly, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I had a few,” Ben responded defensively.
“Sounds like you’ve been having a few too many by the number of slurred phone messages you keep leaving me,” Mac snapped, tired of the games. Mac used to like Ben. Jesus, who was he kidding? Once upon a time, he would have hung the fucking moon for Ben, but not now. “You should sober up.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Ben said, his voice rising.
“I don’t know, join AA or something,” Mac suggested. A headache started behind his eyes. He was really not in the mood for his ex’s drama.
“Fuck you, Mac. I’m not a drunk,” Ben slurred.
“If you really think that, then you haven’t hit rock bottom yet.”
Ben hung up on him, which didn’t surprise Mac. He had always known Ben drank too much, partied too much, but back then, it hadn’t mattered to Mac. Now, though, he could see that his ex’s drinking would have eventually caused them problems.
“Want some food?” Noah asked from the doorway.
Mac hadn’t noticed how late it was, and nodded.
“Yeah, let me check in with Jake and see what’s taking him so long.”
Noah nodded, and Mac covertly tracked the young man’s slender form as he went about making dinner.
He took a bite of the burger Noah had thrown together. There had been frozen fries Noah had popped into the oven. The young man was eating as usual like he was starved.
“The man on the phone, is he your boyfriend?” Noah asked out of the blue.
Mac narrowed his eyes. “How do you know I’m gay?”
The boy blinked, turning pale. “Um, you’re not?”
“Yeah, I am,” Mac admitted, and then smiled to ease Noah’s sudden anxiety.
“So, was that guy your boyfriend?” Noah persisted.
“No,” Mac answered, then took a bite of his burger.
It still pissed him off that Ben wanted to come back around. Their last and final fight still stung. Although Mac didn’t hold a grudge about their breakup, Ben’s cutting and final words had struck a nerve. Absently, he ran a finger over the scar on his cheek. Silence had him glancing up to find Noah intently watching him.
“What?” Mac dropped his hand from the scar.
“You’re hot,” Noah said with a cheeky grin, and Mac almost choked on his burger.
“And you’re young.” He pointed at Noah’s plate. “Eat.”
The beautiful, blond boy laughed and dug into his fries. When Noah pushed the plate toward the middle of the table, Mac splurged by taking a handful. So, that answered that question, even though he’d suspected Noah was also gay. And, sweet hell, the young man was going to be a handful when he got older. But he wasn’t going to be Mac’s handful, and for some reason that thought had a fry sticking in his throat.
Coughing, he gratefully took the glass Noah handed him and swallowed several gulps.
“What’s on the agenda tonight?” Noah asked, slurping through the straw he’d found in the drawer and had stuck into the soda can.
“We need to find you a WITSEC house.”
“Why can’t I just stay at your beach house with you?” Noah asked, and Mac almost stopped breathing. “I’ll be eighteen in a few months,” the young man added.
“That’s not possible.” Mac clipped the words out. Then, when Noah’s shoulders slumped, he added gently, “You’ll need a house where you can live. This particular house is temporary.”
Noah poked out his lip and went silent, concentrating on his food.
“Do you know who your real father is?” Mac gently inquired.
“No, my mother would never tell me, but she taught me Italian.”
“And that means, what?”
“Supposedly, my father is Italian.” Noah shrugged. “I don’t know if he’s listed on my birth certificate.” Noah polished off his burger before snagging more fries.
“I’ll check,” Mac said, warmth squeezing his chest when Noah gave him a quick, grateful smile. Nothing could ever come of it, but he’d give anything to keep Noah smiling.
Mac swore as he searched through information on the laptop. He and Jake were held up in a room on the main floor of the house. They’d made it into a makeshift office.
Jake’s fingers were flying over the keys. Several
minutes later, Mac turned, surprised when Jake let out a low whistle.
“What?” Mac rolled his chair over to look over Jake’s shoulder.
“I found Noah’s birth certificate. Dude, his father is Giovanni Rossi,” Jake said.
“So?”
“Yeah, so I went to look up anything beyond the guy’s general information, and I get this,” Jake said, pointing to his screen, and Mac rolled his chair closer.
The red “access denied” flashed across the monitor. Mac took over Jake’s keyboard and entered his credentials. The word “CLASSIFIED” replaced the “access denied.”
“What the hell?” Mac muttered.
“Yeah, what do you want to do?”
“Keep digging. I’ll call Kane and see if he can get Rossi’s military info.” Mac picked up the phone.
Two hours later, Mac and Jake had Kane on speakerphone.
“I’m sending you an email from a friend who was able to provide a little bit more about Rossi. I can only get the guy’s military information,” Kane said.
“We can start with that,” Jake said, scooting closer when Mac clicked the email open.
“Your contact says that Giovanni Rossi is a former Task Force Black operative,” Mac said, looking over the information.
“The Task Force is an elite team with a combination of British and U.S. fighters,” Kane added, reading the last part.
“Weren’t they instrumental in taking down Islamic State?” Jake asked, and Mac nodded.
“Rumor has it that the group was disbanded, but I think they’re still around fighting ISIS,” Mac said.
“So, what? This guy was passing through Oregon and just happened to knock up Noah’s mother?” Mac snorted in disbelief.
“Have you seen a picture of Mia Brandenburg?” Jake whistled and turned his own laptop around to show Mac the photo of a gorgeous young woman.
Mac instantly saw where Noah got his blond hair, slim build, and beauty.
“Mia Brandenburg.” Mac pulled her file up on the computer, what little there was of it. The woman didn’t look like a drug user. “How the hell did someone like her end up with Stevenson? It says she moved here from Germany with her parents when she was fifteen.”
Ricochet (Out for Justice Book 1) Page 6
