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Dean snorted. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to take some pills to help with the pain. And you’re going to take some of them with you. Then you’ll come back here in a few days so we can see how that rib is treating you. I’ll pass your condition along to Sergeant Reynolds so he doesn’t end up having you do anything you shouldn’t do.”

“Like that’s gonna fucking matter,” Carter said, rolling his eyes.

“It will if he doesn’t want me coming after his ass. You let me deal with him. You just take your damn pills and avoid any morestairsfor the next couple of weeks, got it?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Carter said, wondering if he could.

“And I wasn’t kidding about taking some meds before you leave. You don’t have a choice,” Dean said, striding out of the room.

“Fucking pain in the ass,” Carter muttered.

“I heard that!”

Carter sighed. His weekend was really not turning out all that great.

MARCO

Sighing, Marco threw his suit jacket over his shoulder as he stepped onto the sidewalk. He never understood how the weekend could fly by without his noticing, but the workweek always seemed to have some illogical effect on the passage of time. There was no way it was only Wednesday. It had to be Thursday, at least.

He wasn’t going to bother checking his phone, though, no need to rub salt in the wound.

It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his work because he did. He just needed to find the balls to ask his boss to expand his team. Between him and three other people, they were still doing the work of at least two people apiece. Even one more person would help, and since he was the impromptu team leader, though he had no idea howthathad happened, it was up to him to say something.

Rather than trying to come up with the right speech to use eventually, he just wanted to go home. He could use a few hours to himself, so much so that he was willing to ignore the work he was technically taking home. All he wanted was to kick his feet back, turn on some music, and zone out with a good book.

“Oh, hey, Marco!”

The familiar, dreaded voice made Marco groan.

“Hi, Terry,” Marco said when the man reached him, though he didn’t slow down.

Terry McConnel was tall, strong, dark-haired, bright-eyed, and absolutely easy on the eyes. Marco had initially been flattered when he joined the gym. Terry was a personal trainer, and the man had shown him a little extra attention. Yet the more he got to know Terry, the less interested he became. Terry was a good-looking man, but the problem was he knew he was a good-looking man, and one of his favorite topics was himself.

Despite Marco switching gyms months ago, Terry’s gym was only a few blocks from Marco’s apartment, and the man had zero problems accosting him on the street.

“Just get off work?” Terry asked, jogging up to his side.

“Yeah, long day,” Marco said, hoping the comment would be a good hint.

“Oh. That sucks. Need to unwind, huh?”

“That’s what I’m looking forward to.”

“Hey, if you want, this is a good time for you to take me up on one of my patented massages. I’m telling you, they’re worth experiencing at least once.”

Subtle was not a word Marco would use to describe Terry. Overly persistent, unwilling to take a hint, and in a few cases, outright rejections, but not subtle.

“I’m going to have to pass...again,” Marco added. As much as he loved a man who knew what he wanted, he also appreciated one who understood boundaries. “Not feeling up to company tonight. Just going to be by myself, probably.”

In fact, he’d rather have half the neighborhood, people he’d only seen in passing, over rather than Terry. Not that he was going to say that. Not only did that ping every sense of rudeness in his head, but he wasn’t stupid. Growing up poor and in arough neighborhood had taught him many things, and one of them was that you didn’t piss off guys who were bigger than you.

“You do too much by yourself,” Terry told him.

Marco shrugged. “I do just fine. Don’t need to worry about me.”

“Hey, when are you coming back to the gym?”

“C’mon, Terry, I told you I moved to the other one.”