Page 45 of Escape into the Night

“No.” Elias cut in with a firm, murmured declaration. “You're not just my husband. You're my partner, babe. Mine. The one who sees every angle I don't. The one who keeps me steady when the world starts pulling me under. You're not making this harder. You're the only damn reason I can do this at all.”

“Mm, you sure about that?” Caleb’s hands drifted lower, his deft fingertips slowly easing Elias’ shirt from within the waistband of his trousers.

Elias stepped even closer, pressing his weight into his husband’s front until he was sandwiched against the edge of the counter. “I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Cay.”

The temperature of the room shifted as their breaths minted between them, humid and heady with the aroma of coffee and desire. It was rare, so incredibly rare, for Elias to feel this intense need to control, to dominate, to hop in the driver’s seat of their relationship and claim his husband. But when the desire did strike, it was all-consuming. He shifted his hands lower, fingers dipping into the supple flesh of Caleb’s sides, before he plucked his partner from the floor and set him upon the edge of the counter. Cay’s knees fell open and Elias swiftly stepped into the invitation. Their lips met and melded and moved together as their tongues instantly sought each other's in a sensual slow slide of smoldering passion and intense need.

They parted with a desperate gasp as Caleb shuddered. “Well, hot damn.”

Elias chased his lips with a breathy chuckle. “Hot damn, indeed.”

“Fine,” Caleb huffed with a laugh of his own. “We play the game.”

Elias hummed, a low rumble in his chest as he dipped his head to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of Caleb’s throat. “No. We win the game.”

“But first,” Caleb countered with a gentle shove to Elias’ chest. “I'm going to need you to rearrange my guts.”

“You drive a hard bargain, babe.” Elias nipped at the skin over Caleb’s Adam's apple before drawing back with a wicked grin. “But I think we can manage that.”

Finally, the uncertainty and doubt disappeared from Caleb's expression as he flashed a crooked smirk with a glint in his eyes. “I drive a hard something, that's for sure. But right now, you'll be doing the driving, boss man.”

The music of their shared laughter filtered through the quiet of the kitchen as he stepped back and clasped both of Caleb’s hands in his. For the moment, they could put aside the weight and worry. For a moment, they could lose themselves in one another. They could work on saving the world later, after they saved each other from themselves.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Connor

Thelateafternoonairwas crisp and chilly, the light breeze rife with the perfume of damp earth and autumn leaves just beginning to fall. Everything was tinged gold, the National Mall stretching wide before them as it bathed in the low angle of the sun. It should have felt peaceful—did feel peaceful, in a way—but the undercurrent of tension in Connor's chest refused to loosen. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck, and jogged in place to warm up as the others slowly gathered at the starting point. This weekly veterans' running club, something he still refused to call a support group, was one of the few places where things still felt normal. A sacred space where men and women who had lived through the ravages of war could come together, run away from their demons, and talk. If they wanted to talk, at least. If they could talk.

Luke appeared with a curt nod and began his own warm up, Brody breaking free from his grip to rush forward and greet Gary, Connor’s happy go lucky golden retriever puppy. The dogs were fast friends, a mirror of the relationships they had forged together. Their open earnestness and unwavering loyalty was abalm to Connor’s beleaguered heart. Bella, forever running late, followed shortly after, her short frame blending seamlessly into the crowd of veterans in their athletic gear. With her usual commanding presence, she exchanged effusive greetings with some of the regulars as Luke drifted closer to Connor’s side, his gaze scanning the group with reserved interest. Connor's attention drifted with Luke’s, quickly finding the newest face in the crowd. James. The disillusioned young man had reached out to them after meeting Elias at a community center. Connor was surprised to see him there, standing slightly apart from the others, arms crossed over his chest as he radiated irritation and reluctance. The young man looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, his jaw tight, his posture stiff, his eyes wary. But, he was there. That meant something to Connor. He had a soft spot for the guy because he knew that stance all too well. The similarity to Theo hit him square in the chest, the ache settling deep in that thumping muscle that burned with the intensity of missing his fiancé.

Theo always carried his emotions in the same way that James currently was. Prickly protection, defensive and sharp-edged, wielded against a world that had given them too many reasons not to trust easily. Anger quickly tempered the ache of separation. Theo was still intentionally MIA. Theo was hiding, running, staying under the radar with the help of a couple unknowns and their buddy Hank. And just like Theo, the kids and his ma were bouncing around with the help of the Secret Service so that they, too, could avoid all the questioning and suspicion levied against the rest of their friend group.

Connor forced himself to focus, working his jaw side to side to ease the tension before he needed to add dental work to the laundry list of things to do. Mack, the club’s gruff, no-nonsense leader, called out over the assembled people to bring them to order. Just in time, Connor thought to himself. He needed thedistraction, the direction, the semblance of order in an otherwise chaotic world.

“Alright, soldiers! You know the drill! We run. We talk. We breathe. No one is alone, got it? No man or woman left behind.” The bellowing voice was like a switch flipping in Connor’s brain. The familiar cadences began as they fell into formation and started at a steady rhythm. The footfalls on the pavement filled the silence as each and every one of them took up the call and answer cries. This was the part he loved as he ran alongside Bella and Luke, a piece of the whole, a cog in the machine, a distilled purpose that helped calm the uncertainty and fear he'd carried for so very long. Despite the familiarity, though, his gaze kept drifting toward James, still lingering just out of reach with a dark and unreadable expression.

Minutes melted away as the sun sank lower along the horizon. Minutes became moments and moments added up until an hour later, they eased into the cool-down phase. Sweat-soaked and sated, weary faces wearing soft smiles gathered around the edge of the reflecting pool. This was where people could talk if they wanted to. Struggles, victories, worries, and reflections bounced between them all, with everyone cheering on their brothers and sisters. Everyone except James, surly and silent on the periphery. Again, Connor wasn't surprised.

Sore from the exercise, but not at all unhappy about it, Connor lingered as Luke and Bella said their goodbyes to various members of the group. Like every week before, they had plans to grab dinner together. The routine was vital. Especially when every other aspect of his life was in turmoil. Before they could depart, though, Mack approached and Connor knew in an instant that routine was not going to be the theme of the evening. The bulky man’s stance screamed discomfort as he closed the distance between them, rubbing at his beard with a hand that had seen its fair share of war and loss.

“Yo, got a minute?” The rough rumble of his voice was low, nearly lost to the ambient chatter surrounding them.

“Reckon so, Mack. What can we do ye for?” Connor tipped his invisible hat and guided them farther from the group. It didn't escape his notice that James inched along with them. He wasn't ready to talk, but he also wasn't ready to say goodbye. Connor ignored it as he turned toward the hunched form of the typically indomitable leader of their haphazard unit.

“I haven't been able to get in touch with an old friend of mine. Someone I think y’all might be familiar with.” Concern and worry etched hard lines into the man’s face. His gaze, sharp as a combat knife, landed on Luke’s impassive expression. “The general.”

Bella froze in place. Luke’s jaw visibly tensed. Connor felt cold dread settle in the pit of his stomach.

“He mentioned talking to someone. An agent. Said he was being careful, but I could tell he was scared.” Mack kept his voice low, sighing as he swept a palm over the scraggly beard covering his face.

The cold in Connor’s stomach crept icy fingers up his spine.

“When was the last time you heard from him?” Luke's eyes took on a sharp edge as he jumped into action, pulling his phone from the band on his arm.

“Three days ago.” Mack’s voice cracked on the last syllable. The stone fortress of a man was crumbling in real time, and Connor didn't even bother resisting the urge to clasp him around the nape of the neck and reel him in closer. Glancing over Mack’s shoulder, he caught the moment James averted his eyes and crossed his arms tighter over his chest, still just as reluctant to leave as before. Again, Connor let the guy linger. Something in his gut told him he needed to let the man linger.

They tightened the ranks, easing closer together in the fading light of the autumnal sunset as Luke whispered into his phone.“T, I need you to do a deep dive. I don't care what laws you have to bend. Sooner rather than later.”

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