with daily workouts while serving his time in prison.
Julian Capeletti appeared behind his partner. Those pale green eyes stared down at him, hiding any hint of whatever thoughts crossed his mind.
Ben swallowed heavily and walked up the few steps to meet them on the porch. He stared at his worn sneakers as he moved forward. The last thing he needed to accompany the black eye was a broken leg or sprained ankle from a misstep…at least, that was what he told himself. His heart pounded as he waited, trying to delay confronting the pity, concern, or disappointment he figured he would see staring back at him. He had failed them by screwing up again. And he likely compounded that disappointment by not choosing to come to their house upon his release.
He wanted to hide, but Julian and Matt had never given him a reason to. He looked up and lowered the ice pack from his swelling eye, wanting to meet Julian’s pale green gaze without obstruction.
He was no longer the young kid they’d known. Not entirely. He was now twenty-four, physically stronger, and with the harder edges and tighter lines that often came with age. Still curious as ever and innocent in more ways than he wanted to admit, he was navigating through the bumpy road to responsible adulthood. But he had stumbled far too many times to believe he could do it alone.
“Welcome home,” Julian signed. A single deep swallow from the stoic man was the only indication of emotion. Julian reached out and gripped the back of Ben’s neck, pulling him into a hug.
Ben sagged into the firm embrace, gasping a breath when Matt joined in and stroked his hair.
He had guessed wrong. Again. They hadn’t pushed him away or given him a disappointing shake of their heads. Instead, they greeted him, welcomed him with a tight hold he couldn’t—and wouldn’t—escape.
He hadn’t realized how much he needed this or how much he had missed the support they had always offered.
Tomorrow, he’d worry about finding his way through the maze of life.
Tonight, he wrapped his arms around the house owners, thankful he wasn’t alone as the tears he had held back for years finally spilled.
Bull shut the door of the small storage room behind him, careful to avoid the click of the lock. With his client’s daughter now safely tucked away, he sought cover in a small alcove along the hallway of the hotel. Reinforcements were due to arrive, and he had to buy some time. After tonight, this job would be over. Then the real job of making things up to his sister would begin.
He hadn’t been home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. He was never going to hear the end of it.
He tightened his grip on his gun and leaned back, flush against the wall, as the sound of voices neared. He had counted three remaining armed men in the hallway before seeking cover. All inconspicuous in their standard-issue black shirt, suit, and tie.
A door opened, then closed.
He peeked out over the edge of the alcove, cautiously stealing a glimpse of the cluster of men. Make that four. He would have remembered that turd-brown shirt.
Bull leaned back again and stifled a groan. During his time in service, he had killed men. And each soul he took had taken its toll on him. His life and occupational choices since then were driven by his intense protective instincts. He would defend his clients and had completed each task with both a zero-failure and zero-casualty rate. But having to fight off four men likely meant he would have to add another soul to his mental list of kills.
Glancing up, Bull spotted the security mirror in the corner of the hallway.
“A man and young woman were spotted running up the stairs.” The voice was new and likely that of the new guy.
Bull craned his neck to get a better view and watched the men in the mirror, cataloging every possible detail of Mr. Brown Shirt. The man wiped blood off his hands with a handkerchief. He must have beaten the information out of someone. The man weaved his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. He then curled his hands into fists in a slow deliberate movement as he looked to the others. “Did you check all the rooms?”
The men grunted.
“They’ve got to be on the roof. Go. Now!”
The men raced into the stairwell door on the north side.
“Bull, I’m here. Where are you?” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back