exit stairs, but the other way. He took several corners until he reached an exit window and climbed out. The fire escape was rickety and rusted, but he climbed it upward. Racing across the building’s roof, he jumped the distance to the next building over. Reaching the access roof door, he twisted on the silencer to his gun and fired at the doorknob. It popped open and he eased inside and shut the door.
For several long, tense minutes, he stood there regulating his breathing and listening for any sound out of the ordinary. When he heard none, he made his way down the hallway until he reached a dead end and a door marked laundry.
He shoved at the door, eased inside, and stood listening. With a pounding heart and his ear to the door, he waited and after ten more minutes went by, he finally drew in a deep breath.
The burn in his side was growing and he glanced down to find the side of his shirt soaking wet. Grimacing, he pulled the material away from the wound and lifted his shirt. Blood pooled down his side, wetting his pants, but thankfully, he hadn’t left a trail.
Glancing around, he found a cart pushed against one wall with some clothing. He dug through and came up with a towel, which he pressed against the long graze to stem the flow of blood. It could have been a lot fucking worse. Hissing, he clenched his teeth for several moments.
Holding the cloth against the wound for several long seconds, he swayed. With shaking fingers, he slipped the weight of his backpack from his shoulders and carried it to the end of the room. A small space between the wall and the last washer caught his eye and he wedged himself into it so he was facing forward.
They surely thought he’d taken the stairs.
He was so freaking tired of running.
Suck it up, buttercup! He pressed his hand back against his side.
On the run for several days, he’d had the brilliant idea of coming to Denver. By his calculations, he was minutes away from Logan’s building and instant regret made his eyes burn.
He should have stayed in Colorado Springs. At least there, Siegel had no idea where he was. Here, though, Siegel had the Cobalt Security address from the letter.
Talk about stupid! Of course, they’d be here.
Okay, so he’d made the wrong move and needed to reassess. It was as easy as that. He grimaced and tipped his head against the wall behind him. He needed to forget about the crazy idea that if he could get to Logan, everything would be all right. It was getting dark. He’d wait until morning to make his move.
He closed his eyes, just needing to catch his breath and then he’d make a plan, but every time he closed his eyes, the time he’d spent with Logan ran like a movie reel behind his eyelids.
“No way.” Logan had shaken his head.
Macy perched his hands on his waist and cocked one hip. “Chicken?”
“What? No!” Logan growled.
Macy smirked and performed a perfect dancer’s pirouette. “It’s easy, I’ll show you.”
Walking on the balls of his feet, he approached the balance beam. Bracing his chalked-up hands, he hopped up and balanced with both feet, arms out. Tossing Logan a look from beneath his lashes, he walked quickly on the beam and tossed his body forward. Without even using his hands, he completed a front somersault and landed back on the beam.
Arms outstretched, he spun to face the other way. “See? Easy peasy.”
No response.
He glanced over and found Logan leaning against a nearby wall with a hot gaze running over him.
Macy sashayed barefoot across the beam. Reaching the end, he lunged forward, twisted, and landed perfectly on the mat.
“How’d you learn to do that?”
“Gymnastics.” He crooked a finger, motioning Logan to come closer.
The man shook his head and crossed his arms against a ripped chest.
“You said you wanted to try.”
“I did not.” A furrow appeared between Logan’s brows and he itched to smooth it away. “When you told me you had to work out, I thought you meant a gym.”
“This is a gym.” Macy blinked down at the sexy hunk.
“You know what kind of gym I thought you meant.” Logan uncrossed his arms and waved a hand at the room filled with gymnastic equipment. “Treadmills, weight sets.”
“Oh…yes. Accessories. God forbid you actually use your body without aid.”
“I’ll show you aid.” Logan’s tone had been full of teasing and promise when he suddenly lunged