by David Horne
“You can’t come in here and demand anything of me. This is my house, Jeanette. Like it or not, Alex is here and free to come and go as he pleases. I’ll not have you making snide comments to him or about him.”
The expression on the old woman’s face was remolded from a scowl to surprise. Bluish hair pulled up in the back away from her face, accented the changes. She didn’t say another word. Turning on the heel of the black comfort classic shoes, Jeanette left Connor’s sight. She left the bedroom door open when she departed.
Alex watched Connor climb over him, limp to the door in a pair of black boxer briefs and closed the door. He didn’t appear angry. He stood akimbo watching Alex.
“I don’t understand her.” He shook his head and made the trek back to the king-sized bed. “She never acts that way with any of the other men I bring home.”
Not missing a beat, Alex added, “Maybe it’s because I’m on your payroll.”
“No, because she’s never complained about the string of gardeners I’ve had in here.” Connor smiled at Alex as he climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Sitting on the bedside, Connor spoke to him. “And you’re not on the payroll if you don’t cash that check.”
Alex flushed the toilet, washed his hands and face. He peeked around the corner into the bedroom. “You know about that?”
“Of course, my accountant wanted to know why one of my personal checks hadn’t posted in my account.”
Alex wandered back into the bedroom. Connor faced him, still sitting on the bed. His eyes roved over Alex’s contours. “I felt bad about taking your money. Before that business the other day, I thought you were being a little paranoid.”
As if Alex’s words stung Connor’s back, he reached around to gently touch the bandage with his fingertips. “I think the sheriffs think the same thing. Or least McBride did before the attack.”
Alex sat on the bed beside Connor. “Now, considering the circumstances, I feel more awkward if I cash the check.”
“You mean because you’re here in my bed?” He shrugged. “You’re worth the money and a little bonus.”
“I appreciate your so glib about all this. But this isn’t exactly something I trained for or am used to when it comes to this.”
Connor took Alex’s hand. A friendship handhold that Alex felt spoke of his commitment to what happened between them. “And what about this?” he asked. “Is it all bad?”
“Good God, no,” Alex said quickly. “I love it here. I never thought I’d be here or with you. Now I’m feeling conflicted because it’s more than what I signed up for and I’m still processing it.”
“You still sound as if this is all a bad thing.”
Alex used his free hand to touch Connor’s face. He felt the soft bristles of his beard under his palm. “Connor, I’ve existed for years since I lost my husband. I’m not conflicted about what we did or what we might have now. It’s just about the job because any other time I did my job, I knew there was a chance I’d take a bullet if needed. Without hesitation or thought, it’s something you train for, and hope will never happen.
“But the other night, when I saw that man attack you, something happened to me that I never experienced before. I froze. I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do, and it comes from the fact that I.” Alex swallowed because his mouth was dry. “I thought I lost you and it hurt. It hurt worse than getting shot.”
Connor didn’t speak immediately. There was a slim smile on his lips. “You’ve been shot?” he whispered.
“Well, no. But after all this, I know what it’d feel like.”
Connor kissed him on the lips. Very soft light kisses of reassurance. “I love that you’re not afraid to speak your mind and your heart. But if you’re worried about my money, don’t, your security services are a tax write off. If you’re worried about losing me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“And if we want to figure out what’s going on and who’s after you, I need to start doing the job you hired me for and stop being a pussy.”
“Okay then,” Connor said. His hand broke free from Alex’s grip. With a slap on the bare thigh, he stood up and limped to the bathroom. He looked over his shoulder at Alex. “Come take a shower, pussy.”
Alex grinned and got off the bed to join Connor.
Chapter Fourteen
Standing in line at the bank branch in Stafford, Alex kept his head lowered and hoped none of the cashiers recognized him as the hero from a month ago. Next, at the teller window, the face looked up from the last notes on the transaction and immediately went slack. Eyes widened, and the woman’s chubby finger pointed at Alex.
Before she said anything that drew more attention, Marjorie shouldered the woman out of the way. “Take a break, Diane, I got this one.”
She grinned at Alex. She took the endorsed check and ran it through the system.
There are not enough funds in Mr. Haynes’ account to cover this check, sir.” She finished entering the amount into Alex’s checking account.
“You’re funny.”
“No, you’re funny looking. And speaking of devilishly good looks, you look different.” She gave him a once over as much as she saw of him from the teller side of the counter. “You’re sleeping with Connor, aren’t you?” Her hasty whisper caught a nearby teller’s ear. She frowned at the young man, and he went back to busy work at the counter.
“We have an agreement.” It was the best he could say to Marjorie without sounding too crass. While she wanted lurid details, which was part of her character flaw, Alex wasn’t someone who touted his sexual escapades. But he reasoned it’d been so long since he was with another man, he’d share some details when they weren’t holding up a queue at the bank.
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s better than you’d think after the incident. He promised me to stay home. It worked out because he had a video conference scheduled for today, so he’s taking the call in his home office.”
“And how are you doing? Are you beating yourself up about the whole thing?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Come on, Alex, I know you. I bet you’re flogging yourself because you were there when it happened and couldn’t stop it.”
Alex pursed his lips and shook his head. “You know too much about me.”
“That’s because I love you.”
“I love you too, jerk.”
“And I see he got through your guilty conscious about taking the money.”
“He did. It’s hard to argue with his logic.”
“That’s good.”
“He wants you to come to his house this weekend for dinner.”
“Really? I’m there. Just tell me when and where.”
“I’ll text you his address.”
“I take it the police don’t have any leads on the guy that attacked him.”
Alex shook his head. He saw the tellers watching him. They recognized him, but Marjorie’s presence kept them back from admiring him too close. He smiled at the others before departing the bank.
“Call me later,” Marjorie shouted to him.
He smiled and waved.
Outside the bank, Alex took a moment to scan the area. Wearing sunglasses allowed him to scrutinize without looking like he was staring. The same vehicles he’d marked in the parking lot before he went into the bank were all still there. Other than the old man who wandered out of the bank before Alex to get into the Jeep, there wasn’t anyone waiting or watching.
He’d gone back to the house. Everything was in order. No one had broken into the place. There was a little more dust on the countertops. The quiet cool of his house under the shade of the dogwood tree in the backyard felt lonely now he’d settled into Connor’s home.
Alex wandered around the exterior of the house. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. In his bedroom closet, Alex squatted at the small black safe tucked in the back corner. The combination was cold on his fingertips when he spun the dial to open the safe. Inside was his serv
ice pistol and ammunition.
Alex retrieved the gun and bullets. He took the hip holster and gun to the living room and sat on the couch. Sipping from sparkling water he retrieved from the refrigerator, Alex took his time cleaning the pistol. It hadn’t been fired in a considerable amount of time. He wanted to make sure it still had the impact and trigger tension if he needed to use it.
Once he finished cleaning the gun, Alex made plans to leave the house and go to the local gun range. As a former law enforcement officer, Alex had access to the private police range not open to the public. His retired secret service credentials were enough to get through the gate. He wanted to check the sights on the gun, run several rounds of ammunition through the barrel, and see if he still had the edge to pull and fire the weapon with speed and accuracy. After what happened to Connor, Alex knew the next time something occurred. He’d be ready.
Chapter Fifteen
Marjorie wore something elegant and a little excessive for a private dinner at Connor’s house. Alma had prepared a grand meal for his guest. While Connor invited Jeanette to join them for dinner, she declined. But, not before giving Marjorie the once-over before she retreated to her bedroom near the kitchen.
Marjorie had two glasses of expensive wine before she was socially lubricated enough to quiz Connor about his intentions with Alex.
“So, you’re sleeping with my best friend now.” It wasn’t a question. The words poured out of her almost as quickly as the loose top she’d worn. Her heavy bossism crested the V-neck top of the cable-knit sweater.
“Well,” Connor said. Alex watched him from across the table. Connor didn’t sit at the head of the long dining room table. Marjorie occupied the space on his insistence. He wasn’t one so much for formality. She liked him immediately. “We’re working on it.”
It was an honest answer. Other than their experimenting, they hadn’t ventured into a full relationship. But Alex knew he felt very comfortable sleeping next to Connor in the vast bed.
“He’s a great guy,” Marjorie said of Alex. She took a healthy pull at the contents of her wine glass. Alex knew she’d either need a ride home, call an Uber, or stay the night. “Did he show you his gun yet?”
Connor looked at Alex. “Gun?”
“Well, you can’t expect a secret agent not to have a gun.”
Connor raised his eyebrows with the question. “Do you have a gun?”
“I do.” Alex cleared his throat before he continued. “I retrieved my service weapon earlier this week.” He looked at his friend. “And I’m not a secret agent.”
“Whatever.”
“Are you okay with a gun?” Alex asked. Not that it mattered if Connor disapproved. He decided to take on the full responsibility and not hesitate if something happened again.
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“And I think it would be a good idea for you to get more protection.”
“You mean more than you?”
“I mean something that could stop a bullet or knife if something happened again.”
Connor spun the silver fork in his fingers. He hadn’t eaten very much, and Alex saw a trend in his behavior since the attack. Connor wasn’t as active outside the house as he’d been before it happened. He didn’t talk about it, but Alex knew the man was afraid and did his best to overcome it.
“I was worried some after it happened. I’ve been better, I think. But sometimes when we go to the office, I get this feeling.”
“I understand.” Alex reached over and touched Connor’s arm. “It can take a lot out of someone. It’s good that you’re still going out, at least, within reason.”
“You two are great together.” Marjorie’s mind was on the two men instead of the oral therapy.
“I think you’ve had enough wine,” Alex commented. He reached for Marjorie’s glass, but she snatched it up.
“You touch my glass, and I’ll bite off that hand.”
“He’s going to need that hand, I think, to shoot straight,” Connor added.
“I can shoot straight with both hands.”
“So, what do you propose I do when we go out in public now?”
“It’s going to cost you some money.”
“Well, so far everything I’ve spent on my safety has been well worth the price.”
Marjorie pouted at Connor. “Aw, that’s so sweet. I think I love you.”
“Well, I know I love you.” He got up and kissed her cheek. “You’re not driving anywhere tonight. There’s a bedroom waiting for you when you need it.” He went toward the kitchen. “Wait until you taste Alma’s sweet potato pie.”
“This guy is the best,” Marjorie said after Connor went into the kitchen. “If you don’t marry him, I will.”
“Let’s get through this business before we start making engagement dates, okay?”
Chapter Sixteen
The trip into Washington, DC was slow and steady. Lucas drove with earnest concentration. Alex sat in the back seat with Connor. His thigh pressed against Connor’s leg and he scanned each of the vehicles around them. Connor looked worried. Still mentally weak from his last excursion into the metropolitan nest, Alex understood the man’s apprehension.
When they reached their destination, Alex was the first out of the car. He went around to the passenger side and waited to open the rear door for Connor. The clear sidewalks in bright sunlight, on that end of the city, there weren’t very many people because the buildings were unappealing and looked derelict.
“Did you bring me out here to have me whacked?” Connor asked when he got out of the car and scanned the cityscape.
“Actually, I brought you here because I know the guy that runs the military surplus store right there.” He pointed to a nondescript door in the façade of the concrete building. There were CCTV cameras on each corner of the cinderblock building and one over the door with the steel bars. Alex walked with Connor to the door while Lucas waited in the car. Alex assigned Lucas to watch for anyone suspicious and call him if something came up.
Before Alex could touch the button next to the door to gain entry, a buzzer sounded, and the lock clicked. Inside the entrance, Alex and Connor walked through a metal detector arch before the warehouse opened to display cases and more firearms than Connor had ever seen.
“Well, this is not what I expected.”
“You don’t like our advertising?” the man called from the other side of the counter. There was an oily metallic tang to the air. Alex breathed deep, recognizing the scent as gun oil and chemicals associated with reloads for spent shells. The man went through a gate between the counters and limped toward Alex. They shook hands.
“Good to see you, son,” the older man in a greasy tan ball cap said, shaking Alex’s hand. He looked at Connor.
“This is Rick Archer,” Alex introduced them. “He was my mentor at the academy and runs this little hole in the wall.”
“So you don’t need to advertise,” Connor joked.
“Anyone who comes around here either has business with me or will get the business end of my boomstick.”
Connor chuckled.
“How’s that leg?” Alex asked Rick.
“Still missing.” He wrapped his knuckles on the pant leg of the cargo pants. “Doctor’s want to give me something lighter, printed out of plastic,” he said, limping toward the counter again. “But I’m not too sure about it.”
“3D-printable prosthetics are very revolutionary and extremely hardy.” Connor stopped talking. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Alex said. “This guy’s still living out of military footlocker from forty years ago. He’s got to stop living in the past.”
“I have wi-fi and a smartphone.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“We’re in the market for some ballistic wear.” Alex watched Connor peering around the military surplus. “And I want this guy to wear a stab vest.”
“Overt or covert?” Rick
asked.
“I think he’d feel more comfortable not advertising that he’s a target. Something like the senators wear.”
“I think we’ve got a few that will fit him. You’re an extra-large?”
Connor nodded. He didn’t say much, deferring to the experts in the field of deflecting bullets and blades. Personal armored protection had evolved from the bulky stock seen in movies and TV. Over the next hour, Connor got an education on personal security. There was access to order custom tailored suits with bulletproof weaves. But Alex felt having something to cover his back and chest was enough. Most of the tailored suits came from Columbia and tended to attract DEA officials that tracked purchases made in the United States. While it was legitimate, Alex wanted to avoid any unnecessary attention.
At Rick and Alex’s suggestions, Connor spent a few thousand dollars on body armor that went against his skin. The vest formed tight over his shoulders with hook and loop ties at the sides. Alex helped Connor put on the vest, and while it felt foreign and hot, it didn’t show through the button down shirt. Covered with a blazer, no one would know he wore protection. Designed to deflect bullets, the vest also made it almost impossible for a bladed weapon to get through.
“Aren’t you getting anything?” Connor asked Alex.
Alex smiled at him and lifted his shirt. He wore a vest that had seen miles already and still did its duty.
“What about a gun?” Connor asked.
Alex gave him a long look before he answered. “Have you ever fired a weapon?”
“Well, no.”
“Have you ever wanted to fire a weapon?”
“Not really.”
“So, you think with some predisposed ideas about handling a weapon. It would be in your best interest to purchase a firearm?”
“Maybe not.”
“Also, you’d have to learn how to handle it, clean it, and if the time came, use it against a living soul.”
