Chapter Twenty-Four
Neil
HE PARKED on the street a few houses down from Marco’s safehouse, then headed up the sidewalk. He needed to get him the hell out of town. Marco being in danger was one thing. He was always in danger. Someone actively out to kill him? Yeah, fuck no.
He headed around the house to the back door, cursing under his breath when he found it open. Marco would know better. He pulled his gun and stepped through the door, heart in his throat as he searched the whole place, coming up empty.
The house was dusty enough that he could see imprints from where someone had sat on the couch and several footprints crossing the floor. Nothing about it pointed at a struggle but there wouldn’t be much struggling if someone had a gun pointed at you.
He slid his gun back into his hip holster with a frustrated breath, then pulled out his phone and speed-dialed Marco’s phone. It rang and it kept ringing until he got Marco’s voicemail.
“Fuck,” he growled under his breath.
His heart was hammering in his chest, leaving him breathless for a second. Marco in danger was his worst fucking nightmare.
The slightest sound of footsteps outside had him unholstering his gun and moving to the front of the house. He could see two men walking toward the front door, their faces familiar and their guns raised. Marco’s men. Or, they were. These had to be the fuckers who’d turned on him.
He watched them close in, preparing himself for a fight, until Rome and Marco appeared behind them. Relief coursed through him as he lowered his gun just a smidge.
“You have exactly ten seconds to come up with an excuse I might believe,” Marco growled at the men who whirled around and raised their guns only to get riddled with bullets.
Once Neil was sure they were done, he tucked his gun away and pulled open the door. Two guns snapped up at him. One was holstered with a curse while the other remained aimed at him. He couldn’t care less. Rome wouldn’t shoot without Marco’s say.
He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb, eyes trailing over Marco’s face. He looked alright.
“I suspected someone might come for you,” he said, clenching his jaw when a note of distress came through in his voice. “I didn’t much like finding this place empty and you not picking up your fucking phone.”
Marco crossed his arms and glared at Neil.
“I don’t much care what you like.”
He straightened, fire burning inside him as he walked right up to Marco. He grabbed the man by the chin, staring into his eyes as he said, “We both know that’s a lie.”
Marco’s silence spoke louder than any words he could have spoken.
He let his hand drop and took a step back, glancing at Rome. “Put the damned gun down, Rome.”
“I don’t take orders from you,” Rome said.
“Rome,” Marco said on a sigh.
Rome lowered his gun, a peeved look on his face.
Neil looked down at the men painting the grass red. He needed to call his cleaner. Get it done fast. Marco was racking up quite the bill already.
“I’ll have this taken care of. Ain’t no one around here calling the cops, anyway.”
Rome gave him a short nod, then turned to Marco and asked for the car keys.
“It belongs to the Kings. I doubt they want to be connected to this. I’ll take it back to them. I’m sure Neil can find you a safe place to spend the night.”
A slight thrill went through him as he ran his gaze over Rome. “Got somewhere more important to be?”
“I just don’t want to be around you, spook.”
Neil shrugged, a smile teasing his lips. “Fair enough.”
Rome’s glare was almost pleasant.
Rome turned and walked to the gate where he stopped and looked back at Neil, a flash of danger in his eyes.
“Anything happens to him, and I’ll kill you,” Rome said.
“You’d better.”
Rome snorted and before he was out of the gate, Neil had his phone out, a call going to his cleaner. Marco watched him for a few seconds while he talked, then he bent down and started searching the bodies. By the time he hung up, Marco was standing with his hands in his pockets and an impatient look on his face.
“You find anything?” he asked Marco.
Marco shook his head, so Neil motioned for him to follow. He led Marco to his car and waited for him to get into the passenger seat, gaze scanning their surroundings, before he got behind the wheel. He pulled out onto the street and turned the car toward the city.
“Where were you?”
He had a feeling Marco and Rome hadn’t been sitting around waiting for those two assholes to show up. There was too much anger in Marco.
Marco harrumphed, eyes out the window.
They’d gone to the damn address. They’d gone after Alvaro. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to yell at the man.
“I shouldn’t have given you that address,” he mumbled.
Marco snapped his gaze onto him, fire burning in his brown eyes.
“Fuck you.”
He felt a slight pull of his lips but kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the road.
“If we hadn’t gone, we wouldn’t have known that my own men were going to fucking kill me, would we?”
“You saying you would’ve let them get that close without realizing they were there to kill you?”
He could feel Marco’s glare and wasn’t surprised when the man sank into his seat, muttering under his breath.
They stayed silent for the rest of the drive and through him parking and leading the way to the fancy apartment building where he had an apartment waiting for them. He wasn’t about to tell Marco that it wasn’t a safehouse but his home. Well, as much as an apartment he was almost never in could be a home.
They stepped into the elevator, and he caught Marco giving him a look he preferred to ignore. Had he bought the apartment because it was close to Marco and Dante? Yes. Did he want Marco to know that? Fuck, no. The man only wanted him near when he needed to get off. The sting of betrayal was still present in Marco’s eyes, and he doubted it would ever go away. It didn’t make him stay away. On the contrary. He would take any little scrap Marco would give him.
The love he felt for the man only got bigger even as they grew further apart. He felt Marco slipping away slowly, more and more each time they were together. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He couldn’t stay away. Not for long anyway. He was running out of excuses. His Raiders were free of their past. Stanton and Colt were doing great. Cade was clear of the Agency and his family was safe. Or at least as safe as a bunch of con men were ever going to be.
He glanced at Marco out of the corner of his eye, catching the man in a moment of serenity, his shoulders low and his stance relaxed as he rubbed a hand over his cheek. Marco turned his head, eyes meeting Neil’s and for a second, he caught a glimpse of the man he fell in love with. There was something soft and warm in those eyes that hadn’t been there since Alicia’s murder, and he felt his heart trying to beat right out of his chest.
He knew Marco still felt that love they’d had. If he didn’t, he would’ve put a bullet in Neil years ago. He had no doubt about that. Despite not knowing if Marco would ever allow him back into his heart, he’d come back. Every time. He’d never been able to put out that tiny flame of hope inside him. Hope that he would feel Marco’s love again.
That hope only burned brighter now.