Everyone's Man – 3

 

"So how was your night?" Bill asked after soundly kissing Marc.

 

"Same old, same old." Marc stripped off his scrubs, tossing them in the direction of the laundry basket. After pulling on a pair of sweats, he headed to the kitchen to see what he could throw together to eat.

 

Bill trailed after him, leaning on the doorjamb. "That bad, huh?"

 

Marc shrugged. "Sometimes you have to wonder about people. There was a kid tonight—well not a kid, really, though he could pass for eighteen or nineteen if he wanted to. He walked in alone, his shirt covered in blood. Someone cut him and he passed it off as if it were nothing."

 

"Street kid? Random attack?"

 

"No, I don't think so. He was too well-dressed to be living on the streets and although he wouldn't say so, I got the impression he knew the person who cut him."

 

Bill frowned. "A friend, or a girlfriend?"

 

"If so, then the lover's male." Marc finished making his sandwich and leaned back against the counter to eat.

 

"Ahh, no wonder you're interested. Cute, huh?"

 

Marc rolled his eyes. "No, Bill, I'm not interested in the way you're implying." This was a constant with his partner, the whole jealousy thing. "Besides, he as much as said he won't be back for a follow-up."

 

"Okay. So what other drama was there tonight?"

 

"You're such a ghoul when it comes to blood and gore, I swear," Marc told him with a laugh before feeding his partner's interest in the goings-on in the emergency room.

 

Much later, after their physical needs were well sated, Marc watched as Bill got ready for work. "Meeting today?" he asked, noting his partner was wearing a suit and tie.

 

"Yes. The head honcho is coming in to check up on his little peons." Bill snorted in derision.

 

"That should be fun. Not. You can bellyache all you want to tonight when you get home. I traded shifts with Alan so I could get some decent sleep."

 

"Poor baby." Bill came over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Since you're free, how about we go out for a change?"

 

Marc thought about that. It had been a while since they'd had any real time together. On the other hand, if they went to a club he'd spend all his time not looking at the men, for fear Bill would blow up. There were times he wondered if this whole relationship thing was really worth it. Sure the sex was good, and safe, but the rest of it took its toll.

 

With a huff, Bill stood up again. "Well if you don't want to…"

 

Marc reached for his hand. "I think it's a great idea. Sorry, I'm just exhausted right now."

 

"I know. I shouldn't be so touchy." Bill bent to kiss him. "I'll see you tonight."

 

Everyone's Man – 2

 

 

"Well?" Jonas held out his hand, waiting.

 

Colin dug into his pocket and handed him the slip of paper with the prescription the doctor had given him.

 

"Not as big as I'd hoped, but it'll do. You're off the hook, for now, so scram. And next time, remember not to argue with a client."

 

"Yeah…right," Colin muttered as he watched Jonas walk away. Now all he had to do was go back to the house, get his stuff, and get out of town.

 

It had been a decent job while it lasted, but he didn't need the grief that came with it, like getting cut up by a man who wanted him to do things he wasn't willing to do. Even a whore's got some pride, he thought, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked through the hospital parking lot to the bus stop.

 

As he waited, he felt as if someone was watching him, and not because he was cute and they were looking for a hook-up. The man who had cut him was a big wheel in town, or so he'd said when he tried to force Colin into submission. For all Colin knew, he might have sent someone to make certain Colin didn't tell anyone what had happened—and more importantly, why. Colin figured from the way the dude had acted that it wouldn't do his reputation any good if people knew he was gay and into very kinky sex. Not that Colin could tell anyone anyway, since he didn't know the man's name.

 

Trying not to be obvious, Colin looked around. There were people on the street but no one seemed to be paying him any attention. If it was someone in a car in the parking lot, he couldn't spot who. I'm getting paranoid. The dude would be stupid to try something in public. Still, when the bus came into view Colin sighed with relief. He boarded it and went straight to the back so that he could watch out the window to be certain the bus wasn't being followed.

 

Rather than taking the first one straight to his destination, he switched buses twice after that, just in case. Getting off the last one, he tried to look casual as he walked down the dark streets to the house, listening all the way for any sound of someone behind him, on foot or in a car.

 

When he'd made it safely to the house, he checked in with Brent, the night man in charge. After Colin told him the short version of what had happened, Brent arranged for one of the other young men to take over his clients for the next couple of days and told him to go up and get some sleep. That wasn't said out of any feeling of compassion on Brent's part. It was strictly business. The sooner Colin was back on his feet, the sooner he could get back to work.

 

Everyone's Man – 1

 

 

(This was my first published book, back in 2011, from a publisher that is no longer in business)

 

"You want to tell me what happened?"

 

Colin snorted softly. "Stupid happened," he answered, staring at the curtain surrounding the space rather than at the doctor. Not that looking at said doctor would have been a chore. He was definitely fine and had a killer smile.

 

"How do you stupidly get a six-inch slice across your rib cage, which from the look of it, was inflicted with a knife blade?"

 

"You don't move fast enough?" Colin winced as the doctor began stitching him up. "What the hell happened to giving a painkiller first, man?"

 

"Tough guy like you needs it?"

 

"Yeah, no…" Colin watched, fascinated. He'd never seen anyone being stitched up, especially himself. "So how long do they stay in?"

 

"Until you come back in a few days for me to check the wound."

 

"What if I'm not around then?" Colin muttered under his breath.

 

"Then you check with a doctor at the nearest clinic and let him decide." The doctor tied the thread off and then covered the wound with gauze and tape. "No showers or baths for a while."

 

"Yeah? Well I can deal. Anything else?" Colin sat up gingerly.

 

"Stay away from sharp objects, especially ones being wielded by someone who obviously doesn't particularly like you."

 

"Good idea. I'll keep that in mind." Reaching for his shirt, Colin sighed. "This sure ain't wearable anymore."

 

"You have someone you can call to bring you a clean one?" When a look of panic flashed across Colin's face, the doctor frowned. He spoke the next words gently. "Was it your partner who did this?"

 

"Not like you're thinking, no." Colin shrugged. "And that's all I'm saying." He started to put the shirt on despite its condition.

 

"Hang on. I think I have an extra in my locker. You'll swim in it but at least it won't be blood-soaked." Before Colin could reply, the doctor disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a black t-shirt. When Colin put it on, the doctor chuckled. "Yep, just a bit large."

 

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly The Rock when it comes to build. But hey, thanks. I'll bring it back, or…get it to you, somehow."

 

"Colin, look, if you need a safe place to stay I can probably arrange it."

 

"Naw, I'm good. I just gotta get my stuff and…whatever." He looked at the doctor and then the curtain. "Okay if I get out of here?"

 

"In a second." The doctor wrote out a prescription, handing it to Colin. "For the pain, tough guy," he told him with a chuckle. "Stop at the pharmacy on your way out and they'll fill it cheaper than a drugstore."

 

Colin nodded, stuffing it in the pocket of his jeans. "Look, thanks again."

 

"No problem. It's what I'm here for."

 

 

You Do What You Have To - 83

 

 

"I still want to know how they found us," Micky said a couple of hours later while he and Robin drove home. "Did I do something to tip them off, somehow?"

 

"Best guess—and it is only a guess—it was Mackenzie's people who searched your apartment. Well, both factions probably did, but his people found something that let them know where you worked."

 

Micky thought about it. "Pay stubs. I kept them on file for tax purposes."

 

"That would do it. So, either Mackenzie had someone watching the restaurant on and off, or, more likely, he convinced someone who works there to let him know if and when you showed up."

 

"And I did. But why would he want me dead?"

 

"He figured you saw that list—which was, when you think about it, what started this whole mess."

 

"But I didn't know I had it, until later. And it was Darren who actually had it, until I ended up with his wallet."

 

"True, but either way, Mackenzie wanted it back. Then, when he found out you were responsible for getting Alex out of that whorehouse, then the kid fingered him for putting him there in the first place…" Robin smiled sourly. "Mackenzie had plenty of reason to want you dead. He probably figured he'd hit the jackpot when we walked out of the restaurant together."

 

"Boy was he in for a surprise," Micky replied. "Still, we got lucky."

 

"Yeah. It could have turned out much worse."

 

Micky went silent, watching the late night traffic. Eventually, as they neared home, he asked, "What will we do now?"

 

Robin smiled, patting Micky's leg. "In a few minutes? Or in the long term?"

 

Chuckling, Micky replied, "In a few minutes, you and I are going to screw until one of us passes out. And it won't be me."

 

"Oh yeah?"

 

"Yeah. The adrenaline may have worn off but I've got my second wind. That wasn't really what I meant, though. I—we—keep talking about my being a part of what you and your brothers do. Am I really capable of it, do you think?"

 

"What I think doesn't count. It's how you feel about it. You've handled everything that's been thrown at you so far, and done it well."

 

"For a beginner," Micky muttered.

 

"No. Because you have what it takes. You've shown you can think on your feet, act and react the way you need to, to do what has to be done. But…" Robin pulled into the driveway and parked, then turned to look at Micky. "It takes more than that. You have to believe in yourself. To believe you have it in you to do it every time. Not because you're trying to help me, or protect me—but for all the people out there who have become victims of scum like Mackenzie and Ms Hummel and their kind."

 

Micky nodded. "To do what I have to for them, no matter what."

 

"Yes," Robin replied. "It's a hard…rule, I suppose, to live by. But if you believe, then you can."

 

"I do," Micky said with conviction. "Now I have to learn all the ins-and-outs."

 

Robin grinned. "Easy peasy. We'll start tomorrow. Tonight, however…" He got out of the car, heading toward the front door. "Tonight, we're going to see who stays awake the longest."

 

"And I'm as horny as a three-balled cat," Micky told him, waiting impatiently for Robin to let them into the house.

 

"A what?" Robin shook his head with amusement, unlocking the door and disarming the security system. "That's a new one on me."

 

Rather than reply, Micky pulled Robin into a tight embrace, ignoring the slight pain to his arm. Because in the long run, that's all it is. A brief reminder I can take whatever is thrown at me, just as Robin does.  Then Micky kissed Robin with all the love and caring he felt for this man who had, in so many ways, changed his life forever.

 

 

The End

 

 

You Do What You Have To - 82

 

 

"Hey, it's all right," Robin murmured, wrapping Micky in a tight embrace.

 

"I shot… Maybe I killed…" Micky teared up.

 

Robin wiped away the tears slowly rolling down Micky's cheeks. "He would have killed you without a second thought," Robin told him. "They weren't there to play nice with us. You did what you had to."

 

Unbelievably, as far as he was concerned, Micky giggled. "That's the mantra for your—" he paused, looking directly at Robin now, "—the mantra for our lives. But it's theirs too, I think."

 

"Yeah, it is. We, however, have one thing that makes us different from bastards like Mackenzie and Harley and their kind. We do what's necessary to keep them from defiling the world we live in. Unfortunately, this time, it involved killing them. That was the only thing that would stop them from murdering us. Before you say it's the same thing, to kill or to murder, it's not. They were going to murder us, in cold blood. We had no choice in our response. Not if we wanted to stay alive." Robin cupped Micky's face in his hands. "Do you understand?"

 

"Yes," Micky replied slowly. "Yes, I do." He shivered. "I don't like it, but I do get it."

 

"I don't want you to like it. If taking Harley out excited you, I'd be damned worried." Reaching around Micky, Robin opened the car door.

 

"Not even close," Micky replied as he got in. "If I never have to hold a gun again—to say the least of using it—I'll be very happy."

 

Robin went around to the driver's side, slid in, and started the car. Then, before putting it in gear, he leaned across the console to kiss Micky. "I'll try to make certain you never do, but life being what it is—my life, anyway—it could happen."

 

"Our life," Micky replied firmly, even though he had to grip his hands together to keep them from shaking. "I'm with you in everything: your security business, your family business—as you insist on calling it—and your life. Everything." He managed a smile. "So…I guess you're going to have to show me how to defend myself, since I get that it's necessary if I'm going to do this."

 

"As much as I hate the idea that you'll probably need to know, yeah, it will be." Robin drove out of the parking lot, onto the street, and they headed to the police station.

 

You Do What You Have To - 81

 

Almost as soon as the words were out of the officer's mouth, a third cop came into sight, gripping Robin's arm. It was obvious Robin's hands were cuffed behind his back.

 

"Robin!" Micky started toward him, only to be told to stay where he was or else. He saw Robin's face light up in relief and knew his own expression matched it.

 

Robin was led to stand next to Micky. He looked down at the fallen body and said coldly, "Looks like Harley came back, too." Turning to Micky, he said, "I took care of Mackenzie. Much to his surprise, I suspect."

 

"Harley?" one officer asked.

 

"Yeah. Harley…Yates, if I'm remembering correctly. He was Mr. Mackenzie's enforcer."

 

"There are warrants out for their arrests," the officer by Harley said. "You're telling me the two of you"—he looked incredulously at Micky and Robin—"took the two of them down? On your own?" 

 

"That's what happens when people underestimate their targets," Robin replied with the barest of smiles.

 

More lights lit the parking lot as ambulances and another squad car came into view. The office who had been with Robin took off with one ambulance to show the EMTs where Mackenzie's body was. One of the remaining EMTs started working on Harley, while the other one, noticing Micky was bleeding, tended to what he said was a minor wound on Micky's arm. The first EMT said Harley was alive, but barely, so they bundled him into the ambulance. An officer joined them and it took off in a roar of sirens and flashing lights.

 

The men from the newly arrived squad car turned out to be a detective, accompanied by a local FBI agent. The agent obviously recognized Robin, because he suggested rather firmly that the officers un-cuff him. Then he introduced Robin to Detective Palmer.

 

"I've heard of you," Palmer said, holding out his hand.

 

Robin shook it, then introduced Micky. By then, Micky's adrenaline rush was wearing off and he began trembling. Robin put his arm around him, murmuring, "It's over now, and we survived, despite the fact you got nicked in the process."

 

"You knew, didn't you?" Micky replied, uncertain whether he was angry or not.

 

"That they'd be here? Hell no. How would I? I just wasn't taking any chances. I haven't since…since the first time we met. After your reaction, when we went walking in the park? Well, I just figured you'd be better off not knowing I was carrying."

 

Micky thought about it and nodded. "I'd have been twice as afraid if I had."

 

"Gentlemen," Palmer said, "You'll need to come down to the station so Agent Sams and I can take your statements."

 

"Is it all right with you if Micky and I drive over in my car?" Robin asked.

 

"Not a problem," Palmer replied, before he and Agent Sams went on about the business at hand of dealing with the crime scenes, with the help of the CSI team that had just arrived.

 

Micky followed as Robin walked back to the car, trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

 

I shot someone. I may have killed him. And I feel no regret for having done it. He leaned against the car, his hands on the roof, staring down at the ground. In his mind's eye he replayed everything from the moment the first shot had been fired. They were going to kill us… Robin. If he hadn't been armed… If he'd moved two seconds slower… Micky started shaking.

 

 

You Do What You Have To - 80

 

Micky stared at the pistol. I guess he wasn't as certain we were safe as he said.

 

"Don't move," Robin ordered as he half-stood to search the dimly-lit lot for their assailant. "At least whoever's out there is a lousy shot," he muttered.

 

Micky scrunched down between the van and the car next to it, whispering, "Two people. I heard shots from both sides of us."

 

"Yep. I don't suppose you know how to use one of these," Robin replied just as quietly, handing Micky the gun he kept in his boot.

 

"Aim and pull the trigger."

 

Barely smiling, Robin showed him the safety. "Stay here. If you see anyone, shoot."

 

"What if it's…?"

 

"I'm sure no sane customer is going to walk out after hearing gunfire."

 

Micky hoped that was true as he watched Robin creep forward, then vanish from sight around the front of the van. Holding the gun tightly with both hands to try to keep it steady, Micky leaned against the van, his head swiveling left and right as he looked for any sign of movement. 

 

Seconds later, there was a shot, instantly followed by a muffled cry. Please, please, don't let that be Robin. Micky inched to the front of the van, peering around it in the direction Robin had gone. He didn't see anything, or anyone. Where are they? Where are you, Robin?

 

He thought he heard something move behind him and whirled around as best as he could from his crouching position. A figure stood a few feet away, backlit by the light over the restaurant's rear door. Micky hesitated, his finger on the trigger. The last thing he wanted was to shoot Robin. But he'd have said it was him. He pulled the trigger. His hand jerked up from the recoil, which startled him—although not as much as the fact he must have hit the man, if the cry of pain was any indication. The man fell, firing back as he did. Micky felt a searing pain, in almost the same place where Darren had slashed his bicep. For a second he flashed on what had been done to him. Then, wiping away the memory, he crawled slowly toward the man sprawled on the pavement, blood flowing from a chest wound. Warily, Micky stood, looking down at his victim. Not a victim, a killer who wanted me dead.  He carefully took the man's gun from his hand, just as sirens sounded in the distance.

 

Moments later headlights lit the lot as two patrol cars entered. One screeched to a stop a yard from where Micky stood. Two officers jumped out, guns drawn, while the second car roared past them toward the far side of the lot.

 

"Drop your weapon, hands behind your head," one officer called out. Micky instantly complied.

 

The second officer came close enough to look down at the body on the pavement and then at Micky. "Name?" he asked.

 

"Mine? Michael Payne. I don't know who that is, but he wanted me dead."

 

The officer nodded, calling in for an ambulance. His partner remained where he was, his gun still trained on Micky. He cocked his head briefly, listening to his shoulder radio, then said, "There's another body. Parker has the shooter. He's bringing him over while Northrop stays with the vic."

 

Robin. Oh God, don't let the dead man be Robin.

 

 

You Do What You Have To - 79

 

 

For the next two days, Robin gave Micky intensive lessons about the various types of security systems he installed. He took Micky on one job, to give him hands-on experience, before declaring he knew enough of the basics to be a good assistant. "And maybe do jobs on your own in a couple of months."

 

Micky glowed under Robin's praise then suggested, since the house they'd been working on was close to where he used to work, that they stop there for dinner. "The food is good, and it's not a hole-in-the-wall."

 

"Sounds like a plan to me," Robin said, putting the bag holding his tools into the trunk of the car.

 

When they entered the restaurant, the hostess took one look at Micky and engulfed him in a tight hug. "Where have you been? We missed you. Are you coming back to work? Who's your friend? He's a cutie."

 

Extricating himself from her embrace with a laugh, Micky introduced her to Robin before informing her that he'd found another job. Since he was wearing a shirt with Bristow Security embroidered on the pocket—as was Robin—she said, "You're a security guard?"

 

"Nope," Robin replied before Micky could decide if he should say yes or no to her question. "We install security systems."

 

"Wow." She looked at Micky with newfound respect as she took them to their table. "That's too cool."

 

"Should I be jealous?" Robin asked with a grin after the woman left.

 

Micky rolled his eyes. "Not in the least. We were friends while I worked here and that's it. She is definitely not my type."

 

"What is your type?"

 

"A handsome blond with a taste for danger."

 

"Hmm. I think I fit that bill."

 

"To a T," Micky agreed, wishing they were sitting next to each other, not across the table, so he could kiss Robin to prove it.

 

After ordering dinner, Robin going with Micky's suggestion that the mixed grill was good, they drank their beers and relaxed—or in Micky's case, tried to relax. He didn't realize he was checking every time someone came into the restaurant until Robin said quietly, "You're safe. We're safe. Okay?"

 

"Okay," Micky replied, taking a deep breath, and finishing his beer, just as the waiter arrived with their meals.

 

"That was great," Robin proclaimed an hour later, taking the last bite of his hot chocolate cake. "You're going to have to roll me out of here."

 

Micky laughed, reaching for the check before Robin could get his hands on it. "My suggestion, my treat," Micky told him, handing the waiter his credit card. Then, when they'd finished the last of their coffee, they left the restaurant.

 

They were halfway across the lot to where they'd parked the car when a shot rang out, followed by two more as Robin shoved Micky to the ground beside a dark van, dropping to his knees beside him while pulling out his gun.

 

 

 

'Witness (Targeted #2)" is out today!

 Witness

(Targeted #2)

https://www.jms-books.com/edward-kendrick-c-224_229/witness-p-4499.html

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BHY969MN 

 

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/witness-edward-kendrick/1142470556?ean=9781685502980

 

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/witness-98

 

GENRE: Gay Thriller Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 33,453 words
RATING:

Russ, a homeless young man, is in the wrong place at the wrong time and sees two men leave the scene of a murder at a homeless encampment. He runs and they give chase but fail to catch him when he escapes into the club owned by Jules Travert.

Jules and his friends, especially Marcus, take Russ under their wings, offering him a safe haven at the club. Meanwhile they try to find out who the killers are and do something to prove it.

While Russ isn't certain he trusts them, he accepts what they're offering, even knowing his being at the club could bring trouble down on their heads. When a sniper attempts to kill him, things heat up and Marcus vows to keep him safe, no matter what. Will their budding interest in each other survive what's to come, or will things end in disaster for Russ and his newfound friends?

EXCERPT:

While Russ was in the club's kitchen, Marcus worked behind the bar, as always. What was different this time was the fact he kept an eye on the windows, looking for the two men who'd gone after Russ. He figured Cal had a handle on things at the door, but the man only had two eyes and half the time he was using them to check IDs. It meant he wouldn't be able to watch the street as well as was necessary. Marcus noticed Gale kept glancing at the windows, too, and Jules made it a point to walk past them frequently while visiting with the customers.

As he said to Gale at one point, "The bastards would have to be crazy to try to come in here to look for Russ."

Gale agreed. "Then again, if they did kill someone at the encampment, I think crazy pretty well describes them."

Closing time finally arrived and the club was empty except for the people who worked there. Before starting his nightly chores, Marcus went looking for Russ. He found him hovering in the kitchen doorway. He looked wary, of course, as he scanned the empty dance floor, and tired, but also happy, Marcus thought. Like being able to help Wally had given him a reason to be at the club beyond staying safe.

"It's okay to come out front," Marcus said. "We're locked up and the security's on."

"Did anyone see them around, outside?" Russ asked as they walked toward the bar.

"I didn't. Neither did Gale 'cause he'd have told me if he had. Same with Jules, I'm sure. I haven't talked to Cal, yet. He might have and told Jules, but not us, since he couldn't leave the door. Or wouldn't, I suppose, in case they took advantage of his being gone."

"That makes me feel better." Russ took a seat at the bar, watching as Gale and Marcus did the cleanup behind it and Jules closed out the register. At the same time, the waiters did their own closing chores so they could leave, which they did some twenty minutes later.

"You hanging in there?" Cal asked, taking the stool next to Russ.

"Yeah, I am. It helped that I got to work with Wally."

"I'm sure." Cal slapped the bar to get his friends' attention, then beckoned them over. "I have some news," he said when they gathered around. "Jules already knows. I saw our punks a couple of times, watching the place from a car parked across the street. Didn't get to see the license, but it's recent, a two-year-old Chevy Malibu, dark blue, bent front fender."

"You're sure it was them?" Gale asked.

"Yep. They turned on the overhead light, once, and one of them's a smoker so I saw his face when he lit up. The dark-haired guy." He turned to Marcus. "Have you found out who they are?"

"One, I haven't had a chance to check and see, and two, they might not be in the system, although that's doubtful, especially since at least one of them has a car, meaning a driver's license."

"Which could be a fake," Jules pointed out.

"True. As soon as I'm finished here, I'll go up and see if there were any hits."

"I'm coming with you," Russ said.

"Big surprise." Marcus playfully smacked him on the shoulder.

* * * *

For a second, Russ flashed back to his father hitting his shoulder and froze. It was often the opening volley meant to throw him off his stride in what would turn into another beating. He swallowed hard and tried to smile. "I know. Not."

"Give me five and I'll be ready."

"Okay." Russ stood, moving to stand to one side of the front window where he could see the street without being seen. At this late hour, or early one as it was now Saturday morning, no one was in sight and no cars drove past. But from what Cal had told them, it wasn't moving cars that were the problem. Russ looked for a parked one that matched Cal's description, relieved he didn't see it. Not that it meant the men had given up, and he knew it. Hopefully, they'd decided after spending the evening watching the club that he was long gone.

"Anything?" Marcus asked from behind him.

"Nope. With luck they've given up."

"Don't count on it. Killers, if that's what happened, don't like witnesses."

Russ nodded. "Are you ready?"

"Nope. I thought I'd stand here admiring the view." Marcus grinned, his gaze dropping to Russ's ass for a second. "I am, so let's see what my program came up with, if anything."

Russ was certain Marcus had been kidding with his admiring the view comment, so he laughed even as he wondered what he'd do if he hadn't been.

 

 

You Do What You Have To - 78

 

 

The morning after their dinner with his family, Robin suggested he and Micky go to Micky's apartment to get his things. "Not furniture. I think we have enough here."

 

"It's a furnished apartment, so I don't think the manager would let us walk off with anything," Micky replied, before he realized what Robin was planning. "What if…?"

 

"They won't still be watching the place," Robin said. "Olivia Hummel's organization is in shambles since she's in jail. With Mackenzie in the wind, I'm sure his cohorts have better things to worry about than little old you."

 

Micky chuckled. "Yeah, well little old me is still going to be worried about them, but you do have a point."

 

"Good. Then finish dressing." Robin grinned. "And when we get back, you can return all the shirts you've borrowed because you'll have some of your own."

 

Despite Robin's casual demeanor about their going to the apartment, Micky noticed he was on the alert for possible trouble as soon as they parked in the lot next to the building. Micky had mixed emotions about that. Worry they could be attacked, and relief because he knew if it happened, Robin could deal with it and keep them both safe. Still, I should get him to give me some training. Just in case.

 

Micky let them into the building then into his apartment when they got to the third floor.

 

"Looks like you had company," Robin said, stating the obvious as he set down the boxes he was carrying. The small living room was in a shambles—books on the floor, drawers open and obviously rifled through. The bedroom was in the same condition, and it was apparent whoever had searched the place had gone through the kitchen as well, from the fact that half the cupboard contents were sitting on the counters.

 

"At least they were sort of neat," Micky said dryly, putting his boxes on the sofa.

 

"Probably because they had time to do a thorough search for the list," Robin said. "Did you have anything else worth taking?"

 

"Me? I'm hardly rich enough to own valuables. Although…" Micky started picking up the books, putting them into one of the boxes, until he found the one he wanted. It was an old one he'd picked up at a library book sale a few years ago, with a pocket in the front for the due date card. That was where he'd stashed his credit card and, much to his relief, it was still there. After explaining it was to keep it safe from his landlord—when Robin asked why he kept it there—he pocketed the card.

 

For the next hour, Micky and Robin packed what Micky was taking and put the rest in trash bags.

 

"Not a lot of accumulations for twenty-five years of life," Micky said, eyeing the boxes by the front door.

 

"More like seven years, I suspect," Robin commented, "Since when you went away to college."

 

Picking up one of the boxes to take down to the car, Micky replied, "Actually, I never did that. There wasn't enough money for college and I didn't have the grades for a scholarship, so I got a job as a waiter and I've done it ever since."

 

"Nothing wrong with that," Robin said, also picking up a box. As they walked to the elevator, he looked thoughtful. It wasn't until they'd put the boxes in the car trunk that he explained why. "How would you feel about leaning to install security systems? I could use the help."

 

"You're serious?"

 

"Sure. When I'm not off being"—Robin chuckled—"a fearless crime fighter, it's what I do. My legitimate job."

 

"I… Sure. Why not? I'm pretty good with my hands, and despite what I said about my grades in high school, I'm not stupid." Micky smiled ruefully. "Just lazy when it came to studying."

 

"Great. Umm, I didn't mean the lazy part. And—" Robin grinned at him, "—I know you're very good with your hands."

 

Micky just shook his head and they went back to the apartment to finish moving the boxes to the car and put the trash bags in the Dumpster before heading home.

 

 

You Do What You Have To - 77

 

 

The next week passed with no word from the police or the Feds as to the possible whereabouts of Mackenzie. The Feds did locate Harley, Mackenzie's enforcer, in Chicago. But before they could pick him up, he disappeared again.

 

Micky and Robin were well on their way to being completely healed. Both still suffered from nightmares but helped each other through them, with Thor lending his assistance as a calming influence. Their love-making became more physical as the days went by, to the point that Robin was finally able to actually fuck Micky without pain getting in the way, which had happened the first time they tried—much to their frustration.

 

Then, Sunday morning, Eldon called to invite them meet him at his favorite restaurant for dinner.

 

"It should be safe," he told Robin. "At this point, Mackenzie and whoever might be with him have to know it would be stupid for them to come back to the city."

 

"Yeah. Is everyone else coming too?"

 

"Yep. Sort of a mini family reunion, minus Hawk's kids."

 

"Great. We'll see you around six."

 

When Robin told Micky about their plans, Micky was hesitant at first.

 

"It's one thing to go to the park. As far as we know, Mackenzie has no clue where you live. But really being out in public?"

 

"It has to happen sooner or later. The restaurant's on the far side of town from both your apartment house and Mackenzie's club—or anywhere else he's connected to."

 

"Okay. I can handle this."

 

"I know you can."

 

Micky wasn't quite as certain when they were getting dressed for the evening.

 

"Hey, you're wearing my shirt. He'll never recognize you," Robin said, giving Micky a hug.

 

Micky snorted. "Nope, he'll think I'm you."

 

"Not unless he's suddenly become color-blind. Your red-brown hair is nowhere near close to my blond."

 

"We should both wear hats."

 

"Micky." Robin gripped his arm to make certain he was listening. "We are perfectly safe. I promise. Now finish dressing or we'll be late."

 

Still feeling wary of the whole idea, Micky did. Before they left the house—leaving Thor running free inside—Micky made certain Robin armed the security system, causing Robin to say, "I've never forgotten to. I'm not about to start now."

 

"I'm being a wuss. I'm sorry."

 

"No," Robin told him. "You're acting just the way you should. Being very careful. Just because we"—Robin emphasized the word—"know he shouldn't be anywhere around, doesn't mean we should drop our guard until he's been captured."

 

Micky took that to heart, watching for any suspicious cars as they drove across the city. Still, by the time they arrived at the restaurant, he found he had relaxed. Because Robin is? Probably. Because I'm with him? Definitely.

 

When they entered the restaurant, and Robin gave the hostess his name, she led them to a private room to one side of the main one. Eldon and all the brothers were already there. Robin introduced Micky to Sue-Ellen, Hawk's wife, and to Falcon's wife, Cassie.

 

"You picked a cutie," Cassie stage-whispered to Robin, causing Micky to turn red.

 

Robin grinned, hugging Micky while telling Cassie, "I think handsome works better."

 

Everyone laughed when Micky reddened again. From there, things proceeded as they would at any family gathering—good food, interesting conversations, and, in this case, the tacit agreement that no one would talk about the family business.

 

When the party broke up, Cassie took Micky aside long enough to tell him, "I think you're good for Robin. He looks, and acts, happy for the first time in forever. I mean truly happy, not just…playing at it, I guess. And don't you dare blush," she added with a grin.

 

Micky didn't, replying, "I think we're good for each other."

 

"You are," she agreed, much to his surprise kissing his cheek before going back to join Falcon and the others.

 

"Was she coming on to you?" Robin asked, slinging his arm across Micky's shoulders.

 

For a second Micky thought he was serious, until he saw the twinkle in Robin's eye. Then Micky laughed. "Yep. We're slipping out to have a clandestine assignation at the Bates Motel after you and Falcon are sound asleep."

 

Robin's comeback was, "Just don't join her in the shower. That could be dangerous," as they followed his family out of the restaurant.

 

"Nope," Micky said. "The only person I shower with is you."

 

"Good, because I feel the desperate need for one as soon as we get home."