Operation 11 Safety Feels Like Him
Xander Vale
Xander grazed his fingertips over the ring as he left the penthouse.
He glanced back once before stepping into the hall, unable to stop himself from gaping again at the man they actually called God.
That was insane.
He was a huge, six-foot-four, commanding sonofabitch, with brown-blond hair flowing over his broad shoulders.
There was something more overwhelming about him than his appearance. Something hard to turn away from. He was intense, terrifying in a powerful way, and somehow, he’d made Xander feel safe.
He reminded Xander of someone.
He turned, and looked at Cassidy.
Of course he was right there. He’d been there the entire time, silent and watchful, close enough that Xander didn’t have to search for him.
Cassidy picked up their bags and gave a small gesture with his head, indicating for him to walk in front of him.
At the door, Tech and Steele exited first.
Steele was a lot. There wasn’t another way to put it. Black combat boots, dark jeans, and a ratty, gray long john shirt stretched over lean muscles.
The man radiated danger.
Xander wondered if his menacing glare and bristly, hard-set jaw was the result of him spending most of his life unimpressed and angry.
He had a toothpick sticking out of the corner of his mouth, and when he passed by, Xander caught the smell of sweet tobacco lingering beneath spicy cologne.
But it was those eyes that unsettled Xander.
Icy gray irises emitted a glare that could freeze a man in place.
Tech, at least, appeared far less alarming…at first glance.
He wore a collared shirt beneath a plaid vest, starched jeans, polished loafers, and thick, black-framed glasses that made his green eyes shine even brighter.
His jet-black hair was parted on the side and slicked back without a single strand out of place even at almost four in the morning.
But the large chrome gun at his hip ruined the harmless professor illusion.
Behind him and Cassidy were Ruxsberg—Ruxs—and Green.
They looked like two men he might see at an Aerosmith concert with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other, not detectives.
Unapologetically masculine in the kind of way that made people step aside when they saw them coming.
These were God’s enforcers, which meant they had to be amazing at their jobs.
And behind all of them was Free.
He walked with a small briefcase in one hand and a tablet in the other, head bent toward the screen as if he didn’t need to pay attention to his surroundings, not when walking with these guys.
Cassidy was to his right, his big warm palm still steady and strong against his lower back.
It felt so good there. He wanted that hand to never leave. It drove him crazy how badly he wanted it.
When the elevator opened on the floor below, Free walked out with Ruxs at his shoulder, motioning for him and Cassidy to follow.
Steele, Green and Tech stayed just beyond the elevator doors.
The hall had dim lighting with dark paneled walls, and the carpet smelled as if it had been recently shampooed.
A couple of hundred feet from the double doors at the end of the hall, Free stopped, knelt on one knee, and opened his briefcase.
Inside was black protective foam cradling several small devices shaped like hockey pucks, matte black and no larger than the palm of his hand.
Free took one out, peeled a thin plastic film from the back, and pressed it to the wall near the baseboard, then aimed his watch at it.
Cassidy’s hand tightened a fraction against his back. “What is that?”
“A passive corridor sensor with encrypted signal relay,” Free said, already lifting another device.
Cassidy stared at him.
“Basic English, Free,” Ruxs muttered.
Free stood and walked a few more feet and crouched again.
“It means, Ruxsberg, that if anyone comes down this hall who isn’t wearing one of our watches, I’ll know. If they try to crawl, scale the ceiling, or hug the wall like a Mission Impossible dumbass, I’ll know.”
Xander watched him place another device, then another closer to the suite door.
These men were doing all of this for him. For someone they didn’t know beyond his movies and two friends.
It made him want to thank them again.
Free stood and checked his tablet.
“All right. You’re all set. I texted you guys your keys. No one can access your doors except the two of you, and only from your personal devices. Not hotel staff, security, not even management. I overwrote their access configuration, so they don’t have standard keycard control.”
Xander blinked. “You can do that?”
Free frowned as if offended.
“Sorry.” He gave Free a small, tired smile. “Thank you. Again.”
Free’s expression softened. “No need to keep thanking me. Like God said, this is what we do. We protect innocent people from assholes, and we happen to pride ourselves on it.”
Ruxs nodded. “Big pride. Massive.”
Free shook his head but kept his focus on Xander.
“And trust us, it won’t take long for the enforcers to find whoever’s behind this. And when they do…” Free’s smile was almost innocent as he made the sign of the cross over his chest, kissed his thumb, and flicked his gaze upward with feigned sympathy. “May they rest in peace.”
Xander had decided he already liked Free the most. His genius, humor, the slight British accent, trendy wild hair, and handsome face all worked for him.
Then Free did something he hadn’t expected.
He hugged him.
Not too hard. Not with the kind of overexcited force fans used when they forgot he was a person with bones and boundaries.
Free wrapped him in a brief, warm embrace. It didn’t startle him, and because of all Free had done and his compassion, Xander allowed himself to receive it.
“You’re going to be okay,” Free murmured. “You’re safe now. I Promise. I know a lot of shit, Xander, but there’s only one thing I know for absolute certain—God and Day don’t fail. Never have, and I don’t think they ever will.”
Xander closed his eyes.
When Free pulled back, he gave him one last reassuring nod before turning and heading down the hallway with the others moving around him. One by one, they peeled away, and just before the elevator doors closed, Free tapped a few keys on his tablet and smiled.
“Starlight secured.”
Xander
The soft click of the door when Cassidy used his phone to unlock it, made Xander’s heart pound for a different reason.
He was sharing space with Cassidy Morrison.
The man he’d been thinking about in the shower a few hours ago, who’d made him hard enough to ache with need.
The man who’d raced to him when he’d been in trouble, saved his life, and held him tight in his strong arms when he’d broken apart.
Cassidy stepped in first.
He moved through the suite with unhurried efficiency, checking the rooms, windows, and terrace access, before he came back and held the door open for him.
Xander walked inside.
The suite of course was beautiful. It looked like a millionaire’s condo staged for a magazine spread.
There was a sleek kitchen on one side with dark cabinets, stone counters, hidden appliances, and a bar stocked better than a private club.
The living area was furnished with deep heather-gray sofas around a wide glass table, soft area rugs, and warm lights tucked into recesses in the high ceiling.
Two doors were on either side of the suite, each one likely leading to a master bedroom.
Beyond the living room, the far wall was all floor-to-ceiling windows, opening onto a terrace shining with low amber lights. The wide lounge chairs that surrounded the modern gas firepit had cushions so big they could probably swallow his plus-sized body.
If he wasn’t so exhausted, he’d go straight to the glowing blue Jacuzzi and dive in headfirst.
Their suite towered high enough above the city no one could see in.
He wondered if Free had chosen this room for that purpose.
Xander drifted aimlessly toward the windows and stared out at the blank sky. He bet the sunsets were stunning from this side of the hotel, but at the moment, he didn’t care.
In the reflective glass, Xander watched Cassidy set his bags on a huge ottoman before stopping in the middle of the room, looking almost awkward for the first time since he’d met him.
“You okay?” Cassidy asked.
That rough voice stroked over him in ways it had no business doing.
Xander’s nod was jerky and probably unconvincing. He didn’t turn around. If he did, Cassidy would see the truth in his eyes. He’d see the no, the plea.
The prayer to not leave him alone…not yet.
The suite was safer than his house. He knew that. His mind could list all the reasons why it was—God’s men were near and watching. Free had secured the floor. Cassidy was in the adjoining room. He wore a ring that could summon an army.
But his hands still trembled, his body refused to believe it.
After a moment, Cassidy moved toward one of the bedroom doors. “I’ll be right in here if you need me.”
I do need you.
He almost let the words out, but he pressed his lips together until they stayed trapped behind his teeth.
“Try to get some rest,” Cassidy said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
The adjoining door closed and Xander slumped against the cool window and fought to level his breathing.
Now that he was out of sight of God and all those big, confident men, and no one was watching him, the truth of what had happened pressed in from every direction.
Someone had been inside his house…with a gun. They’d planned, orchestrated, and executed. They’d come so close.
Whoever was after him wasn’t some troll shouting insults behind a fake profile on social media. They were committed and smart.
Maybe next time, Cassidy wouldn’t arrive fast enough.
Xander didn’t know how long he stood there staring at nothing. Long enough that the city lights blurred, his shaking got worse, and his knees began to feel untrustworthy.
He was so damn tired, but afraid to sleep…to dream.
The bar caught his eye.
He opened the mini fridge tucked beneath the counter and grabbed the bottle of top-shelf vodka from the freezer compartment and an old-fashioned tumbler.