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“Okay.” Rusty wondered what it would be like, to be so confident of rescue.

He remembered that first night in Eugene, his truck wheezing like an asthmatic after the drive through the mountains.

He’d had no resources except the scant money in his pocket, no backup.

He knew now he could’ve called on Scott or Will, and gotten help, but he hadn’t been sure of it then.

“I promise,” Cross said again, then kissed Rusty some more.

If Rusty had to sit here in a windowless room with two douchebags with guns overhead, at least he had Cross to keep him company. Although he would far rather Cross was safely back in Portland. Their kisses were all comfort, not heat.

“I’m worried about you-know-who,” he admitted, his face against Cross’s neck a few minutes later.

“Me too,” Cross whispered. “I hate how obsessed he is with you.”

“I should never have brought you into this.”

“Shush. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

Rusty stifled a hysterical laugh against Cross’s skin. “Getting kidnapped?”

“You, you dork. Being let into your life.”

“Cool life right now, huh?”

“Sh.” Cross kissed his temple. “We’ll make it out. We have to. I haven’t had my coming-out rainbow banners yet.”

“Life essentials.” Rusty swallowed hard.

“You bet.”

They leaned on each other as the minutes dragged by, became an hour, perhaps.

Rusty had no sense of time. Every second felt like an eternity.

Every muffled sound made him jump. He vowed to go with Tyler if that’s what it took to keep Tyler’s attention off Cross.

Tyler was obsessed but in a positive way, in a soulmates way, right?

Whatever he wants, if it keeps him off Cross.

Except he kept feeling the pressure of Tyler’s fingers closing around his neck… He didn’t realize he’d whimpered until Cross nudged his chin up and softly found his lips—

Loud footsteps running overhead jolted them out of their kiss. Rusty jumped to his feet and yanked Cross up. “What do you think?”

Cross threw a wild look upward. “Pray it’s Amy or the cops.” He stared around the bare room. “Nowhere to hide.” A door slammed, somewhere above them. Something thumped.

Rusty peered at the floor trusses overhead.

“How good are your arms?” He sprang high and caught the open two by fours, hauling himself upward with a stomach crunch until he could hook a foot into a truss space as well.

The move suspended him up horizontally against the ceiling, seven feet off the ground.

“This?” He dropped to the floor, trying to land lightly.

“Good thought.”

“Right here by the door. So when they look in—”

“They won’t see us—”

Steps ran left to right overhead, then there was a clatter on the stairs. At least two sets of feet.

“Now!” Rusty grabbed Cross by the hips and boosted him as Cross launched off his left foot.

The moment Cross had a grip and was arching up, Rusty leaped for his own hold.

Grab, chin-up, feet up. His pulse rabbited and sweat dampened his palms. He found a purchase with the sides of his feet, hugged up against the trusses, just as a thud echoed against the door.

Then someone slammed the door open shouting, “Pelican!”

Cross dropped one leg, unable to hold, and Rusty yelled, trying to attract their attention as he swung his feet hard toward the newcomer. The man below him dodged and Cross yelled, “Friends. Friends!” Then lost his grip and fell.

Fuck, his ankle! Rusty dropped to the floor, tucking, rolling as he hit the concrete, trying to catch Cross in some impossible move. He was too far away, but the newcomer lunged and cushioned Cross’s fall, landing on the floor under him. Another man and woman rushed in, also saying, “Pelican!”

Rusty let his roll carry him to the wall and pushed to his feet.

Cross called from where he lay on top of the newcomer, “These are Amy’s people, Rusty. We’re okay. Guys, Rusty’s my friend. Hold up!”

Everyone eyed each other as the man under Cross untangled them and helped him to his feet.

Rusty said, “Cross, your ankle.”

“It’s okay. Soft landing.” Cross turned to the man who’d come through the door first. “What about the two upstairs?”

“Dealt with. I have two men restraining them. We’re waiting for the cops.”

“You didn’t c-call them first ?” Rusty asked, unable to control the tremor, wanting to yell at someone, anyone.

“No, sir. We find it best to take action immediately and not wait for local law enforcement.”

“Oh. Who’s we ?” He was still reeling from the adrenaline and hid his trembling hands behind his back.

“Darion Security.” The man held out a hand to Cross. “I’m Jose Zapata.”

Cross balanced on his good foot to shake hands.

Rusty hurried to Cross’s side to offer support, gripping his arm. “Hang onto me. What happens now?”

“Unfortunately, we stay right here until the cops—” Zapata tilted his head and Rusty became aware of sirens approaching. “Here they are.” He pulled out a phone and passed it to Cross. “First call in the history is a line to Ms. Nelson. She wants you to check in.”

Rusty put his arm around Cross as he hit the contact.

Cross hesitated, then also tapped speaker. “Hey, Amy, it’s me.”

“RJ!” Rusty could hear the relief in Amy’s voice. “Are you okay?”

“Rusty and I are fine. Thanks for the rescue.”

“You’re lucky I had connections there in Eugene.”

“You have connections everywhere,” Cross told her.

“I try. Listen, kiddo, stay put till the local cops document your situation, then tell them you need to go to the hospital. No statements beyond the very minimum and record what you say. Darion Security will transport and cover you there till I arrive. I have a lawyer who’ll meet you at the hospital. ”

“Why do we need a lawyer?” Rusty asked. “We’re the ones who got kidnapped.”

“You always need a lawyer,” Amy told him. “RJ, are you good with that? My plane’s landing shortly.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“See you soon.” The line went dead.

As Cross handed the phone back, Rusty murmured, “Kiddo?” His head was whirling and that was something odd to hang onto.

Cross snorted. “She’s been head of Dad’s security since I was fifteen. I’m not sure she knows I’ve grown up.”

Overhead, the sirens cut off. Feet and voices could be heard.

Zapata said, “Everyone be cool. I’ll go interface with the law.

” He hurried out. The man and woman in dark clothing who’d come in with him settled against the sides of the room, postures alert but easy, eyes on the door.

Cross gripped the back of Rusty’s jeans in one fist and balanced against him.

Rusty kept his arm tight around Cross’s shoulders and wondered how bad his foot actually hurt.

The cops who came down with Zapata a few minutes later were two young men in uniform.

They seemed content to let Zapata take the lead, and after a few basic questions and photos of the room and the handcuffs dangling from Cross and Rusty’s wrists, they let Zapata unlock the cuffs and drop them in an evidence bag.

Cross was limping pretty hard by the time they headed up the stairs, and the gaggle of additional cops on the main level didn’t protest when Zapata said he was driving them to the hospital to be checked over.

Rusty looked around wildly as they walked through the small, derelict house to the front door. He kind of wanted to see Tyler in cuffs, see the tall guy arrested. Or maybe he didn’t want to see Tyler at all. What he wanted didn’t matter, since there was no sign of either of them.

He lost a moment or two as he and Cross were maneuvered outside, his head fuzzy, the only reality his grip on Cross to support his slow, painful steps.

Until he was sitting in the middle of Zapata’s SUV with Cross in the seat beside him and another security agent in the row behind them.

Then he blinked and the world came back full volume.

“Fuck!” He turned to Cross. “We just got fucking kidnapped? What was that shit?”

Cross grinned with a manic glitter in his eyes. “That was us surviving.”

“Thanks to your Amy. How—” Rusty broke off as Cross put a finger to his lips.

“Not now.”

“Okay.” Rusty clenched his hands in his lap, twisting his fingers together. “But that was fucking scary, right?” He still couldn’t believe anything that had happened since Tyler jumped out of the bushes with a gun. “Like, ridiculous, but scary.”

“Yeah, it was.” Cross leaned over and put his hand on top of Rusty’s. “We’ve got some details to get through, but we have bodyguards and a lawyer and Amy about to come down like an avenging angel. After she reams my ass, probably.”

“For what?”

“Taking ten years off her life. Not having a bodyguard everywhere I go.”

“Does she expect you to?”

“She’d like it. But I can’t live my life that way.” Cross sighed. “Even if this gives her more ammunition.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“My horrible ex.” Rusty gritted his teeth. “Fuuuuuck! I can’t believe I slept with that asshole. I can’t believe he was that much of a fuckweasel!”

“That was probably partly my fault too. I threatened him, and I could tell he didn’t like it.”

Rusty turned quickly. “No. You were helping me out. Ah, screw it, he kidnapped us. It’s his fault. And whoever tall-fucker was.”

“Agreed.”

“Are you sure your foot’s okay? Scared the shit out of me when I saw you drop.”

“Wasn’t my smartest move. Sometimes I forget I’m that crippled up. But Zapata made a good catch.”

“You should probably have it checked at the hospital.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Sudden recall made Rusty sit bolt upright. “What about Mrs. Murinko? They had her phone. Did they hurt her?” He held his breath.

“Amy can find out.” Cross turned to the agent behind them. “Can you contact Ms. Nelson? Ask her about Rusty’s landlady, Mrs. Murinko. Urgent. They used her phone to lure Rusty.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the agent got on his phone, Rusty clenched his fists and closed his eyes. Let her be okay. Let her be okay. Cross rubbed his arm reassuringly.