away from the wall.
Macy squeaked and ran toward the uneven bars, laughing loudly. He leaped high, catching the lower bar, and swung until he could grab onto the upper bar. Once there, he turned and sat sideways on the bar.
Logan stood beneath him, squinting up at him.
“What’s the matter?” Macy clicked his tongue.
Logan had thrown up his hands and lost the battle to hold back his amusement. The sound of the man’s deep laugh sent a thrill through Macy.
“How long have you done gymnastics?”
“Forever.” He’d kept his response vague and swung backwards, hanging by the back of his knees, then caught the lower bar before landing on the mat.
Stalking up to Logan, he’d expected him to move back, but he hadn’t, the man stayed right where he was.
Craning his neck, Macy gazed up into Logan’s handsome face. “You’re very attractive.”
Logan choked on his own spit.
That had sent Macy into gales of laughter while patting the man’s back.
“I’m ages older than you,” Logan grumbled.
Macy found his giggles dying down at the seriousness in Logan’s voice.
He narrowed his eyes and poked a finger in Logan’s chest. The contact had the man’s eyes going wide. He poked his chin out and glared up into Logan’s face.
“If age is such a big deal, why do you keep coming around?”
“I … don’t know.”
“Pssht! Of course, you don’t,” he snorted and pursed his lips. “It couldn’t be because of this, now could it?” He waved a hand down his sleek body in tight spandex pants and matching shirt of blue. It showed off every curve of his body and displayed his package nicely, if he did say so himself.
“Um,” Logan cleared his throat. “That’s…possibly part of it.”
“You know what I think?” He drew his bottom lip between his teeth.
“I’m afraid to ask.” Logan’s eyes twinkled.
“I think you’re using age as an excuse to not get involved,” he sing-songed and spun to give Logan a nice view of his backside.
“So says the man who doesn’t share anything.” The reply had been barely audible, but Macy had heard Logan’s mumble and sighed.
It had been one of many conversations they’d had that stuck in his head and even though he remained elusive and didn’t share much about himself, he’d found out as much as possible about Logan. If he ever got out of this mess, he was going to do better at understanding Logan. After all, it took two to argue.
The door to the laundry door banged opened, jogging him from the past, and he lifted his hands to his mouth to stifle any sound.
Shoes clicked across the floor. A washer door opened and then clothes were transferred to a dryer. Coins dropped into the dispenser and then the door opened and closed, leaving the rumble of the dryer behind.
The sound soothed him into resting his eyes for a moment. It was a hell of a lot longer than a moment when he groggily blinked his eyes opened. He realized the dryer had stopped and the tiny window over the vending machine showed a patch of morning light.
The ache in his side let him know the bullet wound had dried and stuck to his shirt. At least, he wasn’t bleeding out. How the hell was he going to find the energy to get up and walk out of there? And where the hell could he go if he did?
He pulled the burner cell phone out of his backpack and opened it.
For the hundredth time over the past few days, he scrolled to the only number listed. He hadn’t called it. Did a bullet wound count as desperate measures? Was the person on the other end friend or foe?
Stanton had assured him that the man who would answer that phone number would help him without question.
Pressing the number before he passed out, he held the phone up to his ear.
“Marshal Mac Mackenzie.”
Macy swallowed hard, tears blurred his vision, and any chance of speaking got caught in the lump growing in his throat.
“Hello?” the man’s deep voice said.
Logan
“Morning, boss. Morning, biker dude,” Hayden said when he and Jaxon walked into the command center the next morning.
Jaxon had slept on the small couch in his office despite his arguing that he was fine in his own damned building. He’d crashed in the bed, if he could even call what he’d done last night sleeping. He’d tossed and turned all hours of the night and knew by Jaxon’s concerned look that he looked like shit.
“Grow up.” Jaxon rolled his eyes.
“I am grown up.