LUKE escorted Marty away from the wall of windows and off to a secluded corner where Marty could have his breakdown in relative privacy.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Marty whispered.
“Everything’s going to be fine. I’m right here, Crispy’s here, and we have agents around us. You don’t know who they are, but I do. You’re safe. I promise.” He rubbed his hands up and down Marty’s arms in an attempt to reassure him. It wasn’t working. Marty continued to shiver. Luke couldn’t fault Marty for that. When Luke saw Rogelio walk into the clubhouse, he had to fight his instinct to protect Marty at all costs. If he hadn’t, he would have said a big “fuck you” to the case he’d spent the past year of his life on and run away where he knew Marty would be safe.
Although Luke planned to do everything in his power to protect Marty, he wasn’t one of Marty’s superheroes. He didn’t wear a red S on his chest, and he didn’t have a utility belt with gadgets for every occasion. All he had was a gun, years of training, and the strongest desire he’d ever possessed demanding Marty be kept safe.
He hoped that would be enough.
“What if something goes wrong?” Marty asked. His voice was low and faraway.
Luke blew out his fear with a lungful of air. He took Marty’s cheeks in his hands and made their gazes meet. Marty’s eyes were big and filled with terror. Right now, Luke would do anything to erase that horror, and it pissed Luke off that he had had a hand in bringing such dread into Marty’s life. “We have a plan, remember?”
Marty nodded absently. He’d gone on autopilot. It was something Luke had seen many times before in other witnesses he and Crispy had placed in similar situations. It made Luke feel like the worst human being who had ever lived.
“What if he sees you first?” Marty asked, gnawing on his bottom lip. “He wants you dead more than me.”
Was it Luke’s imagination, or was Marty more terrified for Luke than he was for his own safety?
“Marty,” Luke whispered. “Look at me.”
When Marty’s brown eyes finally settled on his, Luke wrapped his arms around Marty and held him close. He pressed Marty into his chest and rested his head on top of Marty’s. The scent of lavender, citrus, and mint from his shampoo immediately filled Luke’s nostrils. It made his heart thunder, and a tingling sensation spread from the arms that held Marty all the way through Luke’s body.
“Are you scared too?” Marty asked from where he rested against Luke. He dug his head deeper into Luke’s embrace. “Your heart is beating a mile a minute.”
Luke was beyond scared. He felt like he was dangling from the edge of a cliff while Marty was slipping through his fingers. “Yes,” he admitted.
Marty pulled out of the embrace and gaped at him. “Really?”
He smiled at the goofy grin that lit up Marty’s face. “Of course. Fear keeps you on your toes,” he said with a playful flick to Marty’s nose.
Marty nodded as if he completely understood. “Okay, then,” he said, filling his lungs with air and taking a step back. “Are we going to do this?”
Luke’s answer would have been a hell no, but that was his emotions talking. He had to rely on the facts and what his training told him to be true. “Yes. Do you remember what you’re supposed to do?”
Marty stood silent for a minute, clearly running through the plan they had discussed in the car. “Yes.”
“I can’t be with you when you go inside,” Luke reminded him, and it was that part of the plan he hated. The only way he could ensure Marty was safe was if they stayed together, but there was no way that could happen. If Rogelio saw Luke before this went down, it would blow their scheme apart.
“I know,” Marty said. He stood taller and straighter. “Everything will be fine.”
Everything was as far away from fine as it could possibly get. Rogelio Sandoval was here for one reason and one reason only. He’d come here to take Marty away and kill him. If one thing went wrong, Luke would never be able to forgive himself. “Yes,” he finally said. “Nothing will go wrong.”
“I know you’ll keep me safe,” Marty said, stepping to the side and staring at the clubhouse across the pool.
“I will.” Luke had never been more certain about anything in his life.
“And I’ll keep you safe too,” Marty said as he walked away.
LEAVING the safety of Luke’s presence was one of the hardest things Marty had ever had to do. When they were together, it was like they were encased in one of Green Lantern’s protective bubbles. Nothing could get through, and nothing could hurt them, and it had been that way since the very beginning.
When his father’s coin had brought them together, they had been the answer to each other’s prayers. They were safe, and danger only found them when they were apart, as it had in the alley and in the men’s room.
That was what terrified Marty the most. Luke would do anything to protect him. Marty had seen it firsthand. What if Luke did something to protect him that ended up getting Luke killed?
Marty wouldn’t be able to live with that. That was why he had to make sure nothing went wrong. If he stuck to the plan, it wouldn’t. At least, that was what he told himself as he pulled open the rear entrance to the clubhouse and walked inside.
It was difficult to hear his thoughts over the roar of conversation and the blaring music. It hit him like a one-two punch. What made it even worse were the judgmental stares from some of his family members who clearly still thought Luke was an escort. If he had time, he’d tell each and every one of them to fuck off, but he had a bad guy—who just so happened to be a family member—to help catch.
The only problem was Rogelio was nowhere to be found.
He wasn’t chatting with any of the family, and he wasn’t at the bar. Where the fuck had he gone? In order for this to work, Marty had to get Rogelio to take him out of there, away from the family, where Luke and his friends could place him under arrest.
“Can we talk?”
Marty whirled around to find Christian standing behind him. The alcoholic daze from earlier had lifted. He’d also thankfully pulled shorts over his Speedo. His eyes were no longer wild or angry, and a frown turned down the corners of his lips. “Now’s not a good time,” Marty said as he walked away.
“Come on, Marty,” Christian pleaded. He picked up the pace and met Marty’s stride. “You owe me that.”
Marty stopped and glared at him. “I don’t owe you shit.”
“Why are you being like this?” he asked. “You used to be so nice.”
“What I used to be is a doormat,” Marty said. “I got tired of you wiping your muddy feet all over my face.”
Christian grabbed Marty’s forearms and pulled him close. “I’ve changed, you know? You just can’t see it.”
“Oh, I see,” Marty replied, yanking his arms from Christian’s hands. “I see you’re the guy who spread lies about my boyfriend being an escort. You haven’t changed. You’re still the same man who I found getting sucked off on the dance floor at the Heat.”
A gasp to his right caught his attention. It was his cousin Marisol. She was one of the biggest gossips in the family. In fifteen minutes, she’d share what she’d overheard with anyone who would listen.
“Marty!” Christian growled. He flashed Marisol a smile he clearly hoped would charm her into not believing a word Marty said, but her stitched eyebrows told Marty it wasn’t going to work. She spun around on her heel and made a beeline for the next table. “What have you done?” he asked.
What had he done? He’d spent the past few months keeping Christian’s indiscretions a secret. With everything else going on is his life, why had he picked now to suddenly start airing dirty laundry?
The answer was simple. Marty had been embarrassed about what Christian’s cheating said about him, but it wasn’t Marty who had cheated. It was Christian. His actions reflected poorly on him and no one else.
“I haven’t done anything,” he replied. “You’ve done this to yourself.”
Marty gave Christian his back and strolled away with a big smile on his face. He’d clearly gotten the hang of standing up for himself, and it felt fucking great. He’d never roll over for anyone ever again.
Now all he had to do was find Rogelio and his day would be complete.
He glanced down the small hallway to the bathroom. While his cousin might be in there relieving himself, there was no way in hell Marty was going to trap himself in such a small room again. That was when he heard raised voices coming from outside.
Marty cracked open the front door and overheard his mother arguing with Rogelio.
“I want you out of here,” she said. “You’re not welcome here, and you know it.”
“It’s good to see you too, Tía Alma,” his cousin replied.
“Don’t ‘Tía Alma’ me,” his mother railed. She stood on her tiptoes and got in Rogelio’s face. “The day you chose to be a thug was the day you stopped being my family.”
Marty had never heard his mother this upset. If she got any angrier, she’d turn green and start yelling, “Hulk, smash!”
“Mama,” he said, rushing to her side, “what’s wrong?”
Her eyes grew wide when she saw him while a smile crept across his cousin’s face.
“Go back inside,” she said, pointing to the front door. “I’ll be inside in a minute.”
“No,” Marty said, eying how his cousin had placed his hand inside his baggy jeans. He was no doubt gripping the butt of his gun. “Don’t be angry with Rogelio. I’m the one who invited him.”
Their eyes grew wide almost in unison. If this weren’t such a dangerous situation, he would have laughed.
“You invited him?” his mother asked.
A smug smile dangled from Rogelio’s lips. “Yeah.” He strolled over to Marty and hung his arm around Marty’s neck. “I was invited.”
His mother’s eyes drew into slits. “How could you?”
“He’s family,” Marty replied.
Rogelio stiffened at the comment, no doubt because he realized he’d come here to kill his family. Marty hoped the guilt might get his cousin to change his mind.
“It’s bad enough your Tío Beto was already here.” She nodded her head toward Rogelio. “I won’t have this thug ruin your sister’s celebration.”
Rogelio’s eyes went wide. “Tío Beto was here?” More than surprise played across his cousin’s expression. Why did Marty sense fear as well?
“Was,” his mother replied. “I kicked him out.”
Rogelio snarled and took a step toward his mother, but Marty placed himself between them. “Why don’t I walk you to your car?”
“He’s a big boy. He can find his car on his own,” his mother said.
“Mama,” Marty said as he turned to face her. He grasped her shoulders and gently led her to the front door. The last thing he needed right now was his mother getting involved in this mess. He had to get her as far away from Rogelio as he could. “Rogelio just wants to catch up. That’s all.” He glanced over his shoulder at the former childhood friend who wanted to kill him. “Right?”
His cousin flashed a big smile. “Yeah. Catch up.”
“See?” he said as he opened the front door. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. I promise.”
“Ten minutes,” she replied, glaring at Rogelio. “No more.”
When Marty nodded, she entered the clubhouse, and Marty closed the door behind her.
“You know why I’m here, don’t you?”
Marty exhaled and turned around. “I have some idea,” he replied. “This is about what I saw in the alley, isn’t it?”
Rogelio nodded.
“You’re the one who sent that guy after me, aren’t you?” He walked back down the path toward where his cousin stood with his head tilted back and a smug smile on his face.
Rogelio nodded again.
That wasn’t good enough. If this was going to work, Marty needed him to say the words. “Why did you try to have me killed? We’re family.”
“Not according to Tía Alma,” Rogelio answered with a nod to the closed door behind him.
“According to me, we are.”
Rogelio shrugged. “Nothing I can do about that. You saw too much, so it has to be done.” The cold indifference in his tone told Marty that whatever family bonds had once tied them together had clearly been severed.
“So you’re here to kill me, then?”
Rogelio nodded.
“Why can’t you say the words, then?” Marty asked. “If you’re so fucking tough, why can’t you just admit what you’re going to do to me? To someone who is not only your cousin but who used to be your friend?”
Rogelio chuckled. “You’ve grown balls, Martín. I’m glad to see that being a maricón didn’t turn you into too much of a pussy.”
Marty squared his shoulders and strolled right up to Rogelio. “Fuck you.”
This time his cousin barked in laughter before he balled his fists inside Marty’s shirt and jerked him forward. “Don’t get too cocky, puto!” he warned. “I came here out of respect—to do you right so you wouldn’t feel much pain—but I can make it hurt so bad Tía Alma will feel it.”
“So you are going to kill me?”
“You want to hear the words so bad?” his cousin asked with a snort. “Will that make you feel better?”
Marty nodded. He didn’t want to hear the words, but Rogelio had to say them.
“Then, yeah. I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
Although the words didn’t surprise him, the anger that boiled inside Marty upon hearing them did. He reared back and punched his cousin in the face. Pain immediately exploded through his hand as his cousin stumbled backward, ripping Marty’s T-shirt.
“Mom’s right,” he said, trying to turn a blind eye to the pain in his hand and in his soul. “You are a pathetic loser.”
Rogelio spat a glob of blood onto the sidewalk and nodded in respect at Marty, but when he glanced at Marty’s chest, his eyes drew into big circles. “You’re wearing a fucking wire?”
Marty glanced down and saw the exposed listening device Luke had taped onto him earlier. Shit. This wasn’t good.
When Rogelio dug his hand into his pocket, Marty turned tail and ran into the parking lot and as far away from the clubhouse as he could get.
LUKE climbed into the back of an unmarked white van parked at the outer edge of the complex. His partner and another agent he thought was named Raymond Estevez sat hunched over the surveillance equipment, where they’d been recording every word from the wire they’d strapped onto Marty.
“How’s it going?” he asked as he shut the door behind him.
“Listen for yourself,” Crispy replied with a grin. He unplugged his earphones from the equipment and flipped a switch. Marty’s angry voice suddenly filled the vehicle as he told Christian off.
Luke took a seat on the small bench opposite his partner and chuckled. He couldn’t believe the man on the speaker was the same tentative guy he’d met in the parking garage. Marty could barely get his thoughts out of his mouth without rambling when they first met. Now he was reading Christian the riot act for being the douche that he was, and he was doing so quite eloquently. It was amazing how far a person could come in such a short span of time. All Marty had needed was to finally feel comfortable with who he was and not give two shits what anyone else thought of him.
“You go, Marty,” he said.
Crispy nodded. “His ex sounds like a dipshit.”
Agent Estevez snorted in agreement.
“He’s worse than that. He’s a fucking bastard who cheated on Marty three times. Can you believe that?” Luke asked, his cheeks growing warm with anger.
Crispy whistled. “That sucks. Even though he doesn’t like me much, Marty seems like a good guy.”
“He’s the best,” Luke said with a smile. “When we first met, I thought he was a hot mess. A cute, adorable hot mess, but a hot mess just the same. But there was something about him that made me trust him right away.”
“Really?” Crispy asked with an arched eyebrow. Even Estevez, whom Luke didn’t know that well, did a double take. “Didn’t you tell me he basically blackmailed you into pretending to be his boyfriend?”
“He did,” Luke replied with a chuckle. “But there wasn’t anything malicious in it. I know that might sound strange, but you have to know Marty to understand what I’m saying. He was just so desperate, and it wasn’t because of what he wanted from me. Sure, he was going to get something from our little charade, but so was I. I was using him even more than he was using me, and he had no clue what I was doing. He might have tried to strong-arm me into doing what he wanted, but he never would have gone through with reporting me to the cops. I saw through that right away, which was why I trusted him.”
“Trust doesn’t come easy to you.”
Crispy didn’t need to remind Luke of that. The various foster parents he’d had the misfortune of living with had taught him that most people only cared about themselves and what they could get out of others. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Mama,” Marty’s voice said through the speakers, “what’s wrong?”
His mother spoke, and her voice was followed by that bastard Rogelio Sandoval’s.
“He’s made contact with Sandoval,” Crispy said as he turned his attention back to the equipment.
Estevez adjusted some of the knobs on the control panel. “Should we send a team in?”
“No,” Luke replied, rising from where he stood behind Crispy. “He’s with his mother, so he’s safe for now. Besides, we need to get Rogelio to admit what he’s planning, and as long as Mrs. Valdez is there, that’s not going to happen. Marty’s safe right now, but as soon as that changes, send a team in right away.”
Crispy stared up at him. He narrowed his eyes as if he were looking at Luke through a microscope.
“What?” Luke asked.
“You’re different,” his partner replied. “It’s like someone pulled the stick out of your ass.”
Luke frowned. “Gee, thanks. I love you too.”
“I’m serious,” Crispy insisted. “You’ve always been about the job, about bringing in the bad guys no matter what the cost. Hell, that’s the main reason you took this assignment to begin with.”
Luke squared his shoulders, but before he could speak, Estevez interrupted them. “I’m going to take the wire off speaker,” he said. “I’m having trouble hearing with all the racket.”
“Message received.” Crispy nodded as Estevez plugged his headphones back into the console, and Marty’s voice went silent. “We’ll keep it down.”
“Are you trying to say I’m lying down on the job?” Luke asked. His voice was low but tense.
“No. I’m saying the job isn’t your only focus anymore, the way it’s been since you and I first became partners. You were willing to sacrifice what you’d worked on this past year to keep Marty safe.”
Where was Crispy going with this? “Of course I was,” he replied. “I got Marty into this mess.”
Crispy shook his head. “He got himself into this mess. It’s his cousin who works for El Dragón. You had nothing to do with that.”
How could he argue with that? “So what’s your point?”
“I don’t really have one,” Crispy replied. “But I think you owe it to yourself and to Marty to figure out why you were willing to throw it all away to protect him.”
Luke opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn’t find an answer, at least not one that made sense. All he knew was that he’d sacrifice anything—the case, his career, even his life—to make sure Marty was safe.
Anything less was unacceptable.
How exactly had that happened, though? Crispy was right. This wasn’t like him at all. Marty had gotten to him somehow, and he hadn’t even realized it. That was probably because it had happened so suddenly that he hadn’t even realized that Marty had somehow made his way past all of Luke’s defenses and silently crept into his heart.
“Fuck!” Luke said as he suddenly realized what that meant.
Crispy snickered. “Have you finally figured it out, Special Agent?”
Luke swallowed hard. “I’m in l—”
“Guys,” Estevez said, “we’ve got trouble.” He switched the wire back to speaker as Rogelio’s voice boomed though the van.
“You’re wearing a fucking wire?”
Luke didn’t need to hear anything else. He flung the van doors open and sprinted toward the clubhouse. He’d make it to Marty on time, and if Rogelio had laid one hand on Marty by the time he got there, Luke would break both his arms and shoot him in the foot.
MARTY sprinted between the cars in the parking lot, scanning the area for the agents who were supposed to be watching his every move. Where the fuck were they? More importantly, where the hell was Luke?
They were supposed to be listening, recording everything his cousin said, and when he finally admitted what he’d come here to do, they were supposed to spring into action and save his ass.
Something had clearly gone wrong.
“Get back here, motherfucker!” Rogelio cried out behind him.
Marty didn’t bother turning around. He didn’t have strength or speed on his side. His cousin had always been stronger and faster. All Marty could do was hope that he’d evade Rogelio long enough for Luke to find him.
A loud ping sounded to his left, and Marty ducked behind the Ford F-150 his cousin had just taken a shot at. He had to be worried to be firing his gun in public. All it would take was one person to realize what was going on and the cops would be called. If his cousin was willing to risk jail time to take Marty out, that meant Rogelio had been ordered to kill him no matter what the cost.
But why? Marty really hadn’t seen a damn thing. All he had seen was a suit and dark skin.
But he did have more information than that. Marty had also heard the man speak. He’d completely forgotten about that part. Whoever the traitor in the FBI was, he had a Spanish accent. It was subtle, as if the man had spent years trying to downplay it, but it was there.
If he heard it again, he would recognize it. Marty had no doubt about that.
“I know where you are, puta de madre,” Rogelio said from the other side of the truck. “If you run, I’ll shoot you in the back. If you stay where you are, I’ll walk around this truck and shoot you in the face.”
“How about neither?” Marty asked, embarrassed by the tremor in his voice. Evidently his newfound courage withered away when he was staring down the barrel of a gun.
“Funny,” his cousin said with a chuckle. “How about this, then? How about either you come out and take this bullet like a man or I march into that party and shoot your mother in her resting bitch face?”
Marty immediately stood from where he hid, his hands up in surrender.
Rogelio sneered at him and waved the gun at Marty.
“I have to give you credit,” Rogelio said as he made his way around the truck. “You put up more of a fight than I expected. It makes me proud to be your blood.”
“Wish I could say the same thing,” Marty replied.
“I do have one question before I kill you,” he said. “How the hell did a faggot like you get the drop on my man at the mall?”
“That would be this faggot.”
Rogelio whirled to his left. Luke stood with his feet firmly planted and his revolver in his hand. Before Rogelio could take aim, the muzzle on Luke’s gun crackled and Rogelio fell to the pavement, clutching his shoulder.
A second later agents swarmed Marty’s cousin, who cursed at the officials and complained about police brutality.
“Marty, are you all right?” Luke suddenly stood in front of him. He cupped Marty’s cheeks in his hand and looked him up and down for injuries.
“I’m fine,” he replied. He had to tear his eyes from the sight of his cousin being arrested by FBI agents. No matter what Rogelio might have done or almost did to him, Marty could still see the boy who had once been his friend.
“Are you sure?”
Marty grasped Luke’s hands and smiled into the wide blue ocean of concern that gazed down at him. “I’m positive.”
Luke pulled Marty into an embrace and grasped him tighter than he’d ever been held in his life. It made him feel as if he was the most special person in the world to Luke, and Marty clung on to that emotion as tightly as the man who’d not only saved his life twice but reminded him what it was like to live.
“I don’t know what I would have done if anything happened to you,” Luke said. He pulled out of the embrace and stared down at Marty. The concern that had filled his eyes had been replaced by murky guilt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
“You’re here now.” Marty’s words came out in a single low breath. All he could focus on was how intently Luke stared at him, how firmly yet tenderly he held Marty’s shoulders, and how much Marty wanted to taste Luke’s lips.
“Marty—”
Before Luke could say another word, Marty rose on his tiptoes, wrapped his arms around Luke’s muscular neck, and crushed his lips to Luke’s. They were solid and strong but gentle and sweet, just like the rest of him. God, he tasted like mint. It had to be the most wonderful flavor ever. Why the hell hadn’t Marty done this before?
That was when Marty’s mind caught up to what his body had done. He broke the kiss and gazed up into Luke’s half-closed eyes. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I—”
“Will you shut up already?” Luke asked. He wrapped his arms around Marty’s waist. His touch was gentle and warm as he pulled Marty back into an embrace. Luke pressed their bodies together with one hand while he ran the other through Marty’s hair before trailing it across Marty’s cheeks. Luke hovered his lips a few inches away from Marty, his hot breath pluming across Marty’s face and sweeping down his neck. Marty trembled. His thudding heart paused and his breath hitched as time suddenly came to a dead stop.
Luke spanned the distance that separated them. Slowly and tenderly, he molded their lips together once again. As Luke gripped Marty’s waist and clawed at his skin, Marty’s pulse pounded in his ears. He’d never been kissed with so much longing or passion before, and he surrendered to the sensation. Every part of him tingled, and his skin thrummed. When Luke slid his tongue inside Marty’s mouth, not only did he steal the rest of the breath from Marty’s lungs, but time suddenly lunged forward again.
The world that had been placed on pause came back to life in a roar of applause.
When Luke finally pulled out of the kiss, Marty found they were surrounded not just by FBI agents but his family. They had spilled out of the clubhouse and into the parking lot.
“That’s my little brother!” Sophia said, pumping her fist in the air.
Marty’s cousins who had been enamored with Luke at dinner yesterday clutched their hands to their chests. Huge grins practically split their faces in two. Even some of the FBI agents, Crispy included, smiled at them.
“That’s fucking gross,” Rogelio said. His face twisted in disgust before a vicious sneer curled his upper lip. “You’ll both pay for betraying me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Crispy ordered as he grabbed Rogelio by the shoulders and led him away.
Marty’s mother suddenly shot out of the crowd and stood before Marty. “We heard gunshots.” She darted her eyes over to where Rogelio was being loaded into the van before she brought her confused gaze back to Marty. “When we came out here, we saw Rogelio in handcuffs and the two of you… well, doing what you were doing. What’s going on?”
Marty sighed. “It’s a long story, Mama.”
“This I do not doubt,” she replied as she studied Luke. “I take it you’re not an underwear model.”
“No, ma’am,” Luke said. He stepped toward Marty’s mother and held out his hand palm up, in the exact same manner he’d done when he first met her. “I’m Luke Myers, and I work for the FBI.”
“I knew you weren’t a model. Or anything else someone has accused you of being,” she said as she glanced over her shoulder at Christian. He stood off to the side of the crowd, a sizable distance separating him from everyone else. Marisol had clearly done what she did best.
Even though Christian was the biggest jackass in the world, Marty felt sorry for him. If he was smart, he’d grow from this experience, but Marty wasn’t going to hold his breath. Whatever Christian did or did not do was no longer any of his business.
“Long story or not, I want to know what’s going on,” his mother insisted.
Before Marty could respond, Luke slid his arm around Marty’s waist and brought him close. “It will have to be tomorrow, Mrs. Valdez. Marty’s been through a lot, and right now, I just want to take him home.”
“Home?” she asked. A smile unfolded across her lips. “I think that sounds just fine.”
She turned around and immediately starting barking orders and herding the family back into the clubhouse.
“You ready to go home?” Luke asked as he gazed down at Marty.
Marty couldn’t stop the huge grin that slid across his face. Like his mother, he enjoyed the way that sounded. “I thought you’d never ask.”