Mountain Hideout - 1. Chapter One

Trace kept one eye trained on the rearview mirror at the car that had been behind him for the last couple of miles. No matter where he went the car seemed to stick with him. So far it hadn’t gotten close enough for him to make out any specific details other than that it was black, but his gut told him that he might just be in trouble. Testing his theory he made a couple of quick right turns without signaling. The squeal of his tires was the only indication that he had taken the turns too fast, but the vehicle remained behind him. Even as Trace watched the car sped up and began to close the distance between them until only a few feet remained between the two vehicles.

“Son of a bitch,” Trace swore. He felt like a mouse being chased by a hungry cat, lucky for him though, he was smarter than the damn cat chasing him. Trace gripped the steering wheel and made another hard right in the hopes of losing his pursuers. They must have been expecting the move as they turned at the same time, jumping the curb and delivering a glancing blow to the right rear fender of Trace’s truck. The impact started to push Trace around but he used his training and calmly got the truck back under control as he reached for his phone. He flipped open his phone and quickly dialed in the number for dispatch and waited impatiently for it to be answered.

“Hey Gabby, it’s Trace. Listen, I have a black sedan following me, they just clipped my right rear fender.” He listened for a minute before smiling, “That will work, I’m heading north bound on 52nd. Thanks Gabby, I owe you one.” Trace flipped his phone shut with a satisfied smirk. “Alright asshole, the board is set, the pieces are in place; let’s just see if we can get a checkmate.”

Trace saw in the rearview mirror as one of his department’s unmarked cruisers pulled out behind the sedan following him. Knowing he now had backup, Trace smiled as he took his next left, leading the two cars behind him towards the police station where his buddy and partner Mitch would be waiting. As he closed the distance between him and the station, the car behind him pulled back slightly before turning off as soon as the station house came into view ahead of them. The unmarked cruiser followed the unknown as Trace pulled in front of the station and cut the engine.

“Where’s the car at?” his partner Mitch asked as he moved out from behind one of the pillars in front of the concrete building of the police station.

“Not sure, it fell back a few blocks from here, but our unmarked is following them, trying to figure out who they are,” Trace answered with a look down the street.

“Must have realized you were headed back here, any idea who it was?” Mitch asked as they turned together to head into the building.

“Not sure, but they were persistent, I’ll give the bastards that. I am wondering if it has something to do with that big arrest that we made last week.”

“What would make you think that?” Mitch asked cautiously.

“I don’t know, it’s just the only big arrest we’ve had recently. If you remember right, when we arrested Jarvis he swore up and down that he had people who would follow him anywhere. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You know as well as I do that I’ll have to testify at the hearing.” Trace had been uneasy ever since he had made the arrest but had shaken it off. He’s made dozens of other arrests in his quest to rid the area of the drug dealers and other criminals, and couldn’t figure out what would be so different about this one.

Trace heard the distinct squeal of tires on asphalt and turned towards the sound at the same time as Mitch. He didn’t have time to react as the sounds of gunshots filled the air as the black sedan that had been following him sped past, firing bullets out the half open windows. After the report of the first gunshot, Trace felt a fiery pain in his left arm and quickly fell to the ground as he pulled Mitch down with him.

“You hit?” Trace asked as he clasped his right hand over the bicep of his now numb and useless left arm.

“No, you?” Mitch asked, his gaze focused on searching for the car that had fired the shots, so he failed to notice the blood seeping out from beneath Trace’s fingers.

“In the arm,” Trace admitted, biting back a wince of pain as he tried to move his arm.

“Shit man,” Mitch answered as the doors to the police station opened and multiple officers converged on them. “One of you, call an ambulance,” Mitch yelled as the officers approached at a run to form a tight barricade of blue between them and the street, pistols drawn and held at their sides as they studied the street and the surrounding area.

Mitch gingerly helped Trace to his feet, being careful of the arm that was hanging limply at his side. Mitch helped Trace hold his injured arm tucked up against his body as the small contingency of officers herded them towards the doors to the station. Mitch had just called out for a pressure bandage when the doors of the station opened and paramedics rushed in. In a flurry of activity, the paramedics gently pulled Trace’s hand away from his arm and applied a pressure bandage to his forearm before starting an IV and asking if he was allergic to any medications. When Trace shook his head they inserted a needle into his IV and depressed the plunger. It was when the paramedics left the building and came back with a gurney that Trace started to object.

“It’s my damn arm that was shot, not my legs. I can walk just fine, I’m not going out on that damn thing,” Trace groused as he fought the pain from the pressure bandage.

“Obviously your mouth works just fine too,” Mitch answered him. “You’re pale, you’re shaking, and you’re breathing too damn fast. I’m not about to break in a new partner, so just do what they tell you and shut up.”

“Next time you’re the one getting shot,” Trace retorted as Mitch helped him onto the gurney. “My damn arm feels like it’s on fire!”

“Can’t you give him something for the pain?” Mitch asked the paramedics as they prepared to pack his partner out of the station towards the ambulance waiting outside.

“We already gave him 5 milligrams of morphine; it should start dulling the pain any time,” one of the paramedics answered.

“See there buddy, you’ll be feeling better in no time,” Mitch told Trace. Mitch watched as the paramedics left with his partner before going to find out how the hell the people from the car had been able to backtrack to the station without anybody knowing.

At The Hospital

“So when will you be able to be sprung from this joint?” Mitch asked a couple hours later as he sat next to Trace’s hospital bed.

“Probably not for a couple days, they say the bullet shattered the bone in my arm and I’m going to have to have surgery if I want it to heal right. They’re just waiting on the surgeon to get here, and then they’ll keep me for another day or two before they release me.”

“That bites man, I know how much you hate hospitals,” Mitch answered with a grimace.

“Not a whole hell of a lot I can do about it, plus then I’ll be out of commission for at least six weeks, maybe longer. Did we find out who the sonofabitches were that shot me?” Out of everything else he could have asked, Trace was the most curious about the culprits behind the shooting.

“We’re not sure. We’ve ran the plates and the car was reported as stolen a couple of days ago. I don’t have a good feeling about this Trace. They followed you and then shot you outside the station. Who knows what their next plan is.”

“What the hell happened to the car that we had following them? They should have fucking called in that the car was headed back towards the station, so what the fuck happened?” Despite the pain killers that they had given him, Trace was still feeling twinges of pain in his upper arm which made him temperamental at best.

“Actually, they had called in that they’d lost them. The guys inside were on their way to warn us when you were shot, that’s why they got there so quickly. I hate to tell you man, but the chief is worried. Obviously when you get out of here you’re going to be a target. We’ve already got someone stationed outside of your room and once you’re out of here, there’s going to be an unmarked parked outside of your house.”

“I’m not too worried, I’ve got Hercules at the house, I don’t see anybody getting past him, even if he is retired,” Trace answered, thinking of the German Shepherd he had worked with when he was a part of the K-9 unit. Hercules had been shot the year before and despite having recovered, he didn’t have the movement that he’d had before and had been retired. He knew if anything happened at the house that Hercules would follow his training to the letter, despite his disability.

“Well, Hercules or not, I don’t think you’re going to get the chief to change his mind. What are your plans for the dog while you’re stuck in here?”

“I’m not sure, with his training he could be dangerous if a person didn’t know how to handle him. Would you possibly be able to take him for me? It should only be for a couple of days, as soon as I’m out of here you could bring him back to me.” Trace knew that out of everyone, Mitch was the most capable of controlling the retired police dog.

“I’d have to check with Cathy, but it shouldn’t be an issue. She’s been around him and so have our kids and we’ve never had any problems, but the final decision on that will have to be hers. I’ll go give her a call and if she’s good with it then I’ll get your keys and go pick him up,” Mitch said as he gained his feet and headed out of the hospital room. He was back within minutes with an affirmative and after telling Trace to rest up he headed out to pick up his friend and partner’s dog.

Trace lay in the bed questioning everything that had happened that day. The only ones he figured he could have pissed off recently were the people associated with the dealer that he’d arrested the week before. It pissed him off that they hadn’t captured the guys who had shot at him, he had some questions for them that he would love to have answered.

His thoughts were interrupted when one of the nurses came in and informed him that the surgeon had arrived. He merely nodded as she injected something into his IV. He could feel his thoughts slowing and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He finally succumbed to the welcoming sleep and was unaware when they came in to wheel him into surgery.

One Week Later

“God it’s good to be home,” Trace groaned as he made his way through his house, Hercules at his side. He should have only been in the hospital for a couple of days, but his arm ending up infected, along with a couple of other issues had kept him in the hospital longer than anyone had planned. He reached down and clutched his fingers into Hercules hair as they went room by room, checking that everything was as it should be.

Mitch had been good enough to pick him up from the hospital and had even stayed around the house with him for a little bit, but eventually Trace had sent him home, needing the alone time after nearly a week of having people bustle in and out of his room. Leaving Hercules in the kitchen chomping on kibble, Trace continued his check through the house. Not finding anything to worry about, Trace let out a sigh and finally relaxed. He had been more worried than he’d wanted to admit.

He made his way into the bathroom and started filling the tub with water. God he was looking forward to a real bath. Being careful of his left arm and the brace on the upper portion he stripped out of his clothes and using his good arm lowered himself into the warm water.

He’d only been in the tub for about twenty minutes when he heard Hercules barking and throwing a fit. He’d worked with the dog long enough to know that he was highly agitated and used his good arm to push himself out of the tub. Not taking the time to bother with a towel, he rushed out the bathroom door towards the sound of his dog’s barking.

“What the hell!” Trace exclaimed as he walked into the back bedroom to find Hercules with his jaws locked around the arm of a man on the floor. He made his way cautiously into the room only to find a pistol within a foot of the man’s hand. While Hercules had him contained, Trace moved closer and quickly kicked the gun out of the guys reach. The guy on the floor was using a closed fist to try and fight the German Shepherd off. Not wanting his dog to end up injured, Trace gave the release command followed by the command for Hercules to guard.

“Don’t even fucking think about moving,” Trace advised the man as he moved towards the spare bed and the phone on the night table. “You move and he’ll be all over you, not that I would mind, but you might.” Trace quickly made the call and within a minute Carl, the cop sitting in the unmarked that had been parked in front, came into the bedroom after using the key Trace had provided to get into the house.

“Guess the chief had a reason to worry,” Carl muttered as he made his way over to the man and quickly placed steel handcuffs around his wrists to subdue him. “I already called for more backup,” Carl said to Trace with a raised eyebrow as he took in Trace’s unclothed state.

“I was in the tub,” Trace answered lamely.

“I’ll take this guy out while you go put some clothes on. I don’t think the rest of the precinct wants to see your naked ass running around,” Carl told him with a grin as he muscled the guy up from the floor and paraded him out of the bedroom. “Don’t touch anything,” he called back as he made his way down the hallway with his prisoner.

“I’m not stupid,” Trace muttered as he called Hercules to him and headed into his bedroom. He quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants, sans underwear, and a tank top before making his way out to the living room to find the place nearly overrun with officers. The one Trace was surprised to see was Mitch. It wasn’t because he was there, but because he was off duty and Trace was trying to figure out how he’d heard about it so quickly.

“Heard it on the scanner,” Mitch answered at Trace’s questioning look. “They must have been watching your house and planned to finish the job they had started as soon as you were alone.”

“I’m never alone,” Trace answered with a grin as he stroked the devoted Shepherd next to him.

“The guys are already searching around the perimeter of the house trying to find his car, but so far no luck. My guess is that they’re not going to find anything,” Mitch told him as they made their way into the bedroom where other officers were bagging the pistol and searching for any indication on who their man was.

“If they were watching the house then they’d know about the unmarked parked in front. My guess is they parked in the alley that runs behind these houses. One came in and the rest waited in the car to make their getaway.”

“I really don’t like this Trace, maybe you should come and stay with me and the family. They’re obviously going to keep trying for you.”

“Can’t do that Mitch. Think about it, if they know where I live, then there’s a pretty damn good chance that they know where you live. I won’t place your family in jeopardy just to keep my ass alive,” Trace said vehemently.

Two Days Later

“You’re doing what?!” Mitch practically yelled as he watched Trace load a couple of suitcases into the back of his truck.

“You heard me,” Trace answered. “I’ve already talked to the chief about it. I need to recuperate and I’m not spending the next who knows how long at a damn motel. I found a place a couple of hours from here that I can rent for a couple of months. It will get me away from here and they won’t know where I’ve gone.”

“So you’re just going to run from them?” Mitch asked unbelievingly.

“No, I’m not going to just run from them. As much as I’d love to stay and fight them, the chief has already put me on a medical leave of absence. I’m not going to just sit here and wait for them to come at me again.”

“You know we’ll find them,” Mitch assured him, already coming down from his outburst. In the year that they’d been partners, Mitch had begun to feel more like Trace was his brother and hated to see all that was happening to him.

“I’m counting on you to do just that,” Trace answered seriously.

“What about Hercules?”

“He’s going with me. The place I’m going allows pets, and nobody will be getting past him,” Trace assured his partner.

“Take care of yourself,” Mitch told him as he clasped a hand on his partner’s good arm. “I meant what I said before; I don’t plan on breaking in another partner anytime soon.”

Trace didn’t tell Mitch where he was going and his partner didn’t ask. He loaded Hercules into the truck before climbing in himself and starting the engine. As he pulled away from his house he thought about the place he was going. As a kid he’d visited a place up in the mountains that had about a dozen little cabins that they rented out. When he found out it was still there he had talked to the chief and then quickly made reservations. Luckily for him, it was too early in the spring for most people to be up in the mountains and so they’d had plenty of cabins available. He kept an eye on his rearview mirror in case anyone was following him and breathed out a sigh of relief as he watched the city get smaller.

Two Weeks Later

“God, I’ll be glad when this damn thing comes off,” Trace muttered as he drove back up to the little mountainside resort he’d been staying at the last two weeks. Before he’d left home, he’d had to assure the chief that he’d find a doctor to see while he was gone. According to the guy he’d found, his arm was slowly mending, though it looked like he’d be in the brace for longer than he’d originally thought. As he pulled up in front of the cabin he was alarmed to see the door propped open. “What the hell?”

He reached over and pulled his pistol out of the glove box and was careful not to make any sounds as he climbed out of the truck with Hercules at his heels. Deciding not to risk the sound of the door closing he approached the cabin cautiously. He listened carefully and when he heard sounds he sent Hercules in ahead of him, for all he knew, there could be a gun trained on the open doorway, and Hercules was much more equipped to act quickly.

He heard a yell only seconds before he heard the sound of a door slam followed by Hercules’s frantic barking and preparing himself for anything he might encounter, Trace flicked the safety off and made his way into the cabin. Instead of finding someone on the floor like he had at home, he found Hercules in front of the bathroom door, clawing frantically at the wood in an attempt to get in.

“Hercules come,” Trace ordered as he moved around until he was crouched behind the couch, his pistol aimed at the door. Once the dog was at his side he called out, “Come out slowly and keep your hands where I can see them.”

“I’m not coming out there with that damn dog,” answered a deep voice.

“You don’t have a choice,” Trace answered. “You can come out, or he’ll come in, it makes no difference to me.”

“Fine, hold your fuckin horses, I’ll come out,” said the same voice only moments before the door started to slowly open.

Trace heard Hercules growling ferociously beside him, but kept his gaze trained on the door and the figure that stepped slowly through it, the man’s eyes instantly focusing on Trace and the gun that would have been trained at his head if he hadn’t been so tall.

“Who the fuck are you?” Trace asked through clenched teeth. Damn, he could feel himself hardening in his jeans at the mere sight of the stud standing in front of him. ‘Stop thinking with the wrong head’ Trace thought to himself. Despite his resolve, his eyes traveled the length of the man who must be over six foot. Deep blue eyes stared back at him and instead of the fear that Trace had expected to see, they held a hint of anger.

“I’m the damn owner of this place,” the man answered angrily.

“The owner I remember was older,” Trace answered back. Granted it had been quite a while since he’d been here, but he remembered that much.

“You probably remember my grandfather; he died about five years ago and left the place to me. Now call your fucking dog off and point that damn gun somewhere else.”

“In a minute,” Trace replied casually as he got to his feet. “What were you doing in here?”

“I just came to replace your towels and clean up. I don’t like to intrude on my guests and so I wait until they are out and about, just like a maid service would do in a hotel. Do you even have a damn permit for that gun?”

Trace couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in him, he couldn’t see anyone meaning to do him harm as worrying about him having a permit. ‘Just cause it would be out of the ordinary doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen’ the voice in his head told him.

“Let me see your driver’s license,” Trace ordered as he moved out from behind the couch with Hercules standing guard next to him.

“Why the fuck would I give you my license,” the man asked angrily.

“Maybe because I’m the one holding a gun and the one who has a dog that really wants to rip you to pieces,” Trace told him.

“Fuck,” the man answered as he reached behind him.

“Slowly,” Trace ordered as Hercules growls intensified even more.

Trace watched as the man slowly pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his shorts. Even not knowing for sure who the people who wanted him dead were, the address on the license would give him a good idea of whether or not this guy was who he claimed to be. He studied the proffered license carefully before lowering his pistol and giving Hercules his release command.

“Sorry about that,” Trace told the man.

“You should be. After that I should throw your fucking ass out,” the man Trace now knew as Jackson Montgomery spat at him.

Trace sighed as he put the safety back on and tucked the pistol at the base of his back. He contemplated his options as Jackson studied him. The direct gaze made Trace uneasy as he felt like the other man was looking right through him.

“Should?” Trace questioned, surprised at the choice of words.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jackson confirmed. “Figure I can at least give you a chance to explain what the hell just happened before I make up my mind.”

“What if I can’t?” Trace asked. He knew next to nothing about Jackson and wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to tell the man what he was doing hiding out in the cabin. It wasn’t just a matter of trust, but Trace also didn’t want to involve anyone else in the mess that his life had become over the last few weeks.

“Then you’re out of here,” Jackson answered as he took a step closer. Unfortunately for him, Hercules took the move as threatening and instantly bristled and started growling next to his master. “Could you at least lock the dog up until I’m gone?”

“He’ll behave,” Trace answered as he gave a whispered command to Hercules that had the dog lying down next to him, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“I’m Trace,” he told the other man, holding his hand out.

“Jackson Montgomery,” Jackson answered, taking the hand but keeping a wary eye on the dog. “So are you going to tell me what hell just happened?”

“It would be safer for you if you didn’t know,” Trace told him, trying to buy himself some time.

“I am perfectly capable of looking out for myself,” Jackson answered frostily.

“Doesn’t look like it from here,” Trace mumbled low enough that he didn’t figure Jackson would hear.

“If I had any inkling that I needed to be on my guard I would have been, but I didn’t expect to be attacked in one of my own cabins. I’m a former Marine and have been trained in more defense than you could ever imagine, so whatever the hell is going on, spit it out or pack up your shit and get the hell off of my property.”

A sigh escaped Trace’s lips as he realized he really had no choice. The chief had made it pretty clear that he didn’t want him to come back until either he had time to heal or they caught the bastards behind the shooting. They had learned that it was in fact all connected to the drug dealer he had arrested and according to the guy they had in custody, Trace was far from being safe.

“I guess if you’re going to force the issue, I’m going to need a cup of coffee before we get into it,” Trace relented reluctantly and made his way over to the small coffeepot on the counter. “Would you like a cup?”

“Not of that swill,” Jackson answered, a ghost of a smile showing on his lips. “I actually have some better stuff in the cabin that I live in, if you’re interested, but the dog stays here.”

“The dog goes,” Trace shot back. “He can stay outside on the porch but that’s as far as I’m willing to go with it. I owe that dog more than you could even possibly imagine.”

“Fine,” Jackson conceded as he cautiously made his way to the door, “but he stays outside.”

Trace grinned as he followed Jackson out of the cabin, Hercules trotting along at his side. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to confide in the man in front of him, but realized he had no choice if he wanted to stay where he was at. His eyes drifted down to study the perfect ass in front of him as he followed Jackson past a few of the other cabins. As he walked, and ogled, he couldn’t help but wonder what a former Marine was doing changing someone else’s sheets and bringing them fresh towels. He was so intent on his own thoughts that he failed to notice that Jackson had stopped and ran into him. Without thinking, he wrapped his good arm around Jackson from behind to help steady both of them.

“Sorry about that,” Trace mumbled, strangely reluctant to release his grip on the other man. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jackson answered, biting back a cry of denial as he forced himself to step from the arms that were wrapped around him. There was no way he was going to admit that he’d enjoyed the brief contact, at least not until he knew what they guy’s story was. “Come on in and have a seat while I get the coffee going, just remember the dog stays outside,” Jackson told him as he opened the door to his cabin and led the way inside.

“Stay Hercules,” Traced ordered before following Jackson inside. He glanced around and noticed that while the cabin had the same layout as his; it was quite a bit larger.

“You can sit anywhere, I’ll only be a minute,” Jackson told him before making his way into the kitchen.

Trace heard the slam of cupboard doors as he walked around, looking at some of the pictures on the wall. He came across one of Jackson with the man who Trace remembered from his visits to the cabins as a kid. Despite having already known from the driver’s license, Trace felt a little better at seeing proof that Jackson had been telling him the truth.

“That the guy you remembered?” Jackson asked, pulling Trace’s attention away from the picture to find Jackson leaning on the doorframe leading in from the kitchen.

“Yeah it is,” Trace answered as he took in the muscled arms that were folded across the wide chest. He had no doubt that the chest underneath the t-shirt would have been just as muscled. ‘Knock it off’ Trace told himself. ‘He probably doesn’t even swing that way, and all you’d get is a good pounding if you tried anything.’

“So where you from?” Jackson asked as he waited for the coffee to finish up so that they could get down to the heart of the matter. For the most part he was just looking to make conversation as he studied the man who was standing in his living room. The man was closer to his type than he really wanted to admit, considering the fact that he was a customer, there seemed to be a neon sign in his mind telling him to back off.

“A couple hours away from here,” Trace told him, purposely not providing the exact details of where he was from. He hoped that after Jackson heard his story he would understand the vagueness of some of his answers a bit better.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” Jackson answered as his eyes roamed the length of Trace’s body. The other man had to be at least close to six foot, considering he only stood a couple of inches shorter than his own six two. As his eyes moved back up to the other man’s face, he was met with a deep hazel gaze. The smile put him a little more at ease until he remembered the whole reason for this meeting. The man that he was practically drooling over had not only pulled a gun on him, but the man’s dog had nearly attacked him.

“Looks like the coffee is done,” Trace murmured as he watched Jackson’s eyes kind of glaze over with disinterest. He had noticed Jackson looking him over and had wondered if he was interested, but before he could do anything to find out one way or another, Jackson’s eyes had become hooded.

“Guess it is,” Jackson told him dispassionately as he turned and filled a couple of mugs before walking back into the living room. He handed one of the cups to Trace before taking a seat in the lone chair in the room and motioning towards the couch. “Sit, and start talking.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Trace admitted. When he’d first come up to the cabins, the last thing he had expected was to have to explain his situation to anybody.

“Maybe you could start with why you’re packing and why you felt the need to pull it on me,” Jackson suggested, a slight hint of steel in his voice.

“It’s as good a place as any I guess,” Trace answered, though his heart really wasn’t in it. He was half afraid that even once Jackson had heard the explanation that he would still make him pack up and get out. “I’m a cop a couple of hours from here, and Hercules out there is a retired police dog,” Trace started haltingly. He continued to relay the events of the last few weeks to Jackson, making sure to include the parts that Hercules had a paw in.

Jackson had gotten up a few times to refill their coffee mugs, but other than that he sat in the chair and remained silent. No nuances of emotions crossed his face to give Trace an idea of what was going on his head, giving Trace no idea as to how Jackson was taking the news of what had transpired. When the story finally wound down, Trace felt emotionally exhausted and just sat and cradled the coffee cup in his hands. A movement from the chair pulled his gaze to Jackson and he watched as the other man got up and went to the door. He was pleasantly surprised when he opened the door and called to Hercules. Knowing that the dog probably wouldn’t respond to a stranger, Trace managed to croak out the dogs name and within seconds the dog was padding his way across the threshold to sit next to his owner.

“Sounds like you’ve been through the wringer,” Jackson finally commented as he regained his seat.

“Guess you could say that,” Trace answered.

“I can understand your edginess, but since they don’t know where you went, you should be safe,” Jackson told him thoughtfully. “Do you honestly believe that they would have tracked you to here?”

“I don’t know at this point, guess it depends on how determined they are,” Trace told him. “I made sure I wasn’t followed out of the city, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m completely safe.”

“If it makes you feel any better, staying here is by reservation only and there are no more incoming guests on the schedule.”

“That don’t mean they won’t show up though,” Trace reminded him. “They wouldn’t be coming here with the intent of staying, they would only be coming to finish me off.”

“True, but now I’ll know to be suspicious of anybody else showing up. I’ll do my best to help keep you safe, but I can’t promise you anything. If they do come, they’ll be expecting you to be on your own and they’ll be expecting the dog, but they won’t be expecting me.”

“This isn’t your fight,” Trace told him. “If they show up you need to just stay out of it, I’m not going to have anybody else hurt because of me.”

“Regardless of whether this is my fight or not, if they show up here then they’re bringing the fight to me. You seem to forget that I was a Marine and I don’t back down from a fight,” Jackson told him.

“Well, then I guess I’d better hope even now more than ever that they don’t show up,” Trace told him before standing up. “Thanks for the coffee, but I think I’m going to head back to my cabin.”

“You okay?” Jackson asked with concern.

“I’ll be fine, just have some things to think about,” Trace told him as he headed towards the door. He was surprised to see Hercules hadn’t left his spot on the floor. “Come on Hercules,” Trace ordered and once the dog was at his side he headed out the door and began walking towards is cabin.

“Hey Trace?” Jackson’s voice stopped him, but Trace didn’t turn around.

“Yeah?”

“If you have any problems, just dial star two six nine and it will ring through to my cabin. If you can’t stay on the line then just leave the phone off the hook.”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that,” Trace told him before continuing his walk. He knew that should anything happen, the last thing he was going to do was call Jackson. The other man might have been a former Marine, but Trace had no intentions of involving anyone else in the situation.

Two Days Later

Trace found himself sitting on the porch as he tried to decide what to do for the day. He would have loved to go for a swim in the pond, but his arm prevented that. He was trying to decide if he felt like taking Hercules and going for a hike when he saw Jackson walking towards his cabin. He loved to watch the way Jackson moved. He was wearing casual attire of shorts and a somewhat tight fitting t-shirt as he made his way towards Trace’s cabin.

“Hey Trace,” Jackson greeted as he reached the stairs.

“Hey Jackson,” Trace answered, trying to figure out why the other man was there. He hadn’t seen Jackson since he’d told him about what had happened back home. As much as he could have wished otherwise, many of his thoughts had centered around the former Marine.

“I was wondering if you had any plans,” Jackson told him.

“Not really,” Trace answered him. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just going to go for a hike. There are a few trails that I closed off to the rest of the vacationers and was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

“I don’t know,” Trace answered. He wouldn’t mind going on the hike with Jackson, but he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about Hercules going along with them.

“He can come too,” Jackson told him. He had watched Trace’s quick glance at his dog and realized why he was on the fence about going with him. Ever since his talk the other day with Trace, Jackson had found the other man on his mind constantly. He knew that he probably wasn’t gay, but figured there was no reason why he couldn’t get to know him better.

“I guess we could,” Trace answered cautiously. “I had actually just been thinking about taking Hercules and going up the trails.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jackson said with a smile.

“I guess so, just let me grab a bottle of water and put some different shoes on,” Trace told him as he headed up the stairs to change shoes.

“The shoes would be a good idea, but don’t worry about the water, I have a few bottles in my pack,” Jackson told him, shrugging out of the backpack and setting it next to the stairs.

“I’ll be right out,” Trace told him before heading into the cabin only to come out a few minutes later in loosely tied tennis shoes. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Let’s go then,” Jackson responded, once again shouldering the pack. Even though they were only going for a short hike, he had enough provisions in the pack to last a couple of days in case anything happened. He also figured maybe they could have a picnic lunch once they had reached his favorite spot.

They hiked in silence for a good couple of miles, both of them enjoying just having someone to hike along with. They watched as Hercules went a little ways into the trees to check out a new scent, but never strayed too far from where they walked on the trail.

“So what made you decide to leave the Marines?” Trace asked when the silence became too much for him.

“A few different things I guess,” Jackson answered as he questioned how much he actually wanted to tell him. “I guess the biggest thing though was their beliefs on gays.”

“Oh?” Trace asked. That single comment had really piqued his interest as he allowed his mind to roam over the possibilities.

“Yeah, I had quite a few friends who turned out to be gay. One of them actually got discharged when he was discovered in a rather compromising position.”

“I never could understand the military’s stand on gay personnel,” Trace answered.

“Yeah, neither did I. I always kind of figured it was never any of their business. Hell, it probably would have ended up being cheaper for them if they didn’t make such a big deal out of it. Since the government doesn’t recognize partners of the same sex they wouldn’t be able to be claimed as dependents. Just think of the benefits they wouldn’t have to pay out. As it was, I knew a few as well who were gay but were married just to help keep anyone from suspecting.”

“Very true. That whole “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy is crap. So I guess since that’s the reason that you left, you have no issues with a person’s sexuality?” Trace asked quietly.

“If you don’t ask, I won’t tell,” Jackson answered with a small smile.

“Seriously? You?” Trace knew he sounded like an idiot but despite having hoped that maybe Jackson swung his way, he hadn’t really let himself think of it as a possibility.

“Is that really so hard to believe?” Jackson asked, hoping he hadn’t read Trace wrong. The only good thing was, that with Trace’s injured arm, there was no way he could physically hurt him.

“I guess not,” Trace answered honestly. “Most people don’t think it of me either, I just wasn’t expecting it I guess.”

“Guess that was some good beating around the bush,” Jackson said on a laugh. “At least I think we both found out what we really wanted to know, whether or not we bat for the same team.”

“True enough,” Trace confirmed. Despite knowing that they both were gay, Trace was a bit nervous and decided to try and get the conversation onto a safer footing. “So where are we headed?”

“Just a spot that I like to go to a couple times a week. It’s got an awesome view that I thought you would appreciate.”

“Sounds good,” Trace answered softly. They walked in a companionable silence as they each pondered what the revelations could mean. They had gone about another mile when the path started to widen before entering a clearing in the trees. Another hundred yards and they came to a bluff overlooking the cluster of cabins down below.

“You hungry?” Jackson asked as he moved towards a crude bench and table that had been fashioned out of a couple of trees.

“Maybe a little bit,” Trace answered as he stood a couple feet back from the edge and studied the terrain below. He could see the road that led into the cabins below and could make out each individual cabin. “Bet you’ve brought a lot of guys up here,” Trace said without thinking about how that would sound. When he didn’t get an answer he turned and found Jackson watching him. “Shit man, I’m sorry,” Trace told him as realization dawned, “that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’d brought me up here for that reason.”

“Well, to answer your question, no, I haven’t brought a lot of guys up here. Actually, you’re the first. Don’t feel guilty, if I had known you were gay, I probably would have brought you up here for exactly the reasons you were thinking, but I didn’t know until we were already on our way. I will admit to bringing you up here to give us a chance to get to know each other better though.”

“Interesting to know,” Trace answered noncommittally as he turned back to the view. He turned what Jackson had said around in his head as he studied the scenery and failed to notice that Jackson had walked up behind him. The first he became aware of the man behind him was when he felt hands settle on his shoulders and turn him away from the view.

“Does that bother you?” Jackson asked cautiously. He wasn’t sure what was going on in Trace’s head, but he had expected more of a response to his revelation.

“It probably should, but it really doesn’t,” Trace admitted. “I don’t know what good it would do to get to know each other though, we live a couple of hours apart and probably couldn’t hold a relationship together.”

“Whoa! Who said anything about a relationship? I mean yeah, it could eventually lead to that, but I was just thinking about seeing where it went and if it did reach that point, a couple of hours really isn’t all that far.”

“Regardless, anything between us right now wouldn’t be safe for you,” Trace told him.

“I’ve already told you I can take care of myself, besides, right now I wouldn’t be in any danger because they don’t know where you are. Granted, if you were back in the city and we were seeing each other it could be dangerous, but that’s at least a month away,” Jackson told him, his hands still resting on Trace’s shoulders. He knew he should have let go, but he felt some kind of connection and he wanted to convince Trace to explore it with him. He may not have come up to the bluff with the intention of starting a relationship, but now that Trace had planted the seed, he could feel the idea sprouting in his mind.

“I really don’t know,” Trace answered cautiously.

“Would you quit thinking it to death and just feel,” Jackson scolded before lowering his head and capturing Trace’s lips with his own. At first the kiss was tentative, a barely there brush of lips against lips, but became more insistent when Jackson felt Trace respond. “Fuck,” Jackson swore as he pulled back a bit and looked down at Trace. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You’re the one who fucking kissed me,” Trace shot back in defense.

“That’s not what I mean,” Jackson told him exasperated. “What I meant was, we probably shouldn’t be doing it this close to the edge.”

“Oh,” was all Trace could manage to get out. Without stopping to think about it, Trace pushed Jackson further back from the edge before closing the distance between them and bringing his lips to the other man’s. When they finally broke apart they were both breathing heavily and without a word, Trace led Jackson over to the crude table.

“So does this mean we’re starting something?” Jackson asked him as he sat down and pulled Trace down next to him.

“We’ll just see where it goes,” Trace replied. “That’s all I can promise right now.”

Three Weeks Later

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Jackson asked from his position on the couch. Over the last few weeks he’d found that he loved lying with Trace and just watching the television or talking.

“Just wondering what’s going on back home,” Trace answered him honestly as he stroked his fingers through Jackson’s hair. He found it quite enjoyable when Jackson would lay with his head in his lap.

“I can’t believe that they still haven’t found the rest of the scum that’s after you,” Jackson told him angrily. “You’ve been here for over a month.”

“You trying to get rid of me?” Trace asked, only slightly kidding. He constantly found himself worrying about what would happen when he headed back home. He and Jackson had spent as much time together as they could in the three weeks since the day up on the bluff and he wasn’t looking forward to going home.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Jackson answered, sitting up so that he was facing Trace. “I just hate knowing that they’re still out there. I’ll keep you with me as long as I possibly can and you won’t hear any complaints about it.”

“I know, its nerve wracking not to know what I’m going to go home too. I keep wondering how long I’m going to have to look over my shoulder. Maybe I should go into town and check in with the chief, see what’s going on,” Trace told him. When he’d first come up here, he had decided that he’d go into town just in case those that were after him had tracing equipment. The town was only about forty five minutes away and if they did trace the call, it wouldn’t lead them straight to the cabins. They’d have to do a little searching.

“If you want. I actually need to pick up a few things in town, so if you don’t mind I’ll go with you,” Jackson told him. There really were things he could pick up in town, but the biggest part of it all was just spending time with Trace. He knew that their time together would be drawing to a close and he wanted to revel in Trace’s companionship as long as possible.

“That’s fine with me, but if we’re going to go we should probably go soon, before it gets much later.”

“If it gets too late, I’ll drive back,” Jackson promised as he stood up from the couch. He held out his hand to help Trace up off the couch and as soon as he had him on his feet he pulled the other man to him for a brief kiss.

Despite the drive into town being uneventful, Trace couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling that something wasn’t right. He glanced again into his rearview mirror, but just like the last time he had looked, there was nothing behind him.

“You okay?” Jackson asked as they approached the outskirts of the small town. “You seem kind of tense.”

“I’ll be fine, just have a bad feeling I can’t shake,” Trace answered with another glance in the mirror. Trace pulled his truck into the grocery store and started making his calls as Jackson went in to get the few things he had come into town for. Trace dialed the chief first the same way he did every other time he called in. He chatted for a minute with the chief only to find out they still didn’t have any leads. When he hung up he dialed Mitch’s cell phone with entirely different results. After he hung up he was surprised to find his hands shaking too bad to dial in the chief’s number in a second time.

Trace flung open the door of the truck and ran into the grocery store. He wasn’t sure what Jackson was there to get so he ran across the end of the aisles, glancing frantically up each one of them as he passed. He finally found Jackson and didn’t even register what he was looking at as he yelled out.

“Jackson!”

“What’s wrong babe?” Jackson asked worriedly as he dropped the items in his hand into the cart and caught Trace against his body as he ran up to him.

“Mitch,” was all Trace could manage to get out. Usually he was able to keep his cool, but having just found out that the men who were after him had his partner and his partner’s family scared the living daylights out of him.

“What about Mitch?” Jackson asked, gently moving Trace back until he could see into his face. He had heard a lot about Trace’s partner and knew that they were just as close as brothers. “What happened to Mitch?” Jackson asked again, a little more forcefully when Trace didn’t answer him.

“They’ve got him. Said when they couldn’t find me they went after him to draw me out. Either I show up at Mitch’s house or they’re going to kill him and his family,” Trace told him frantically. “I’ve got to get back there.”

“Easy babe, you’ll get there, and I’m going to go with you,” Jackson told him calmly.

“You can’t,” Trace objected. “You can’t go with me while they’re still out there.” Trace was past the point of being rational and just knew that they had to move quickly. He still had to take Jackson back to the cabins before he could head back home.

“Listen to me babe, you are in no condition to drive. Plus, if I don’t go with you, that’s an extra hour and a half by the time you take me back and get there.” The cart was forgotten as Jackson led Trace out of the store and helped him into the passenger seat. “Listen to me Trace, you know I have to go with you, you’ll waste too much time taking me home first.”

“If you go, you stay as far out of it as you can,” Trace told him. “I won’t have you getting hurt because of me, do you understand me?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Jackson told him.

Trace didn’t even question the quickness of Jackson’s answer and instead started thinking of ways to get his partner’s family out of the mess they were in. He hated the handicap of only having one working arm because it would keep him from actually going in. He played each scenario he could think of over and over again in his head. He could send Hercules in, but he didn’t know how many were in the house and he really didn’t want the dog to get shot either. He could go in and give them what they wanted, but he knew there was no guarantee that the men wouldn’t kill them all anyways.

“You doing okay?” Jackson asked. Trace hadn’t said a word to him since they had left the grocery store and Jackson was getting more worried as the miles of the interstate flew by.

“I’m fine,” Trace answered, a hint of steel back in his voice.

“So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet, I’m trying to figure that out,” Trace told him before falling silent again.

Jackson was going over his own plans in his head as he drove. He knew that Trace wanted him to keep out of whatever it was they were walking into, but he also knew that there was no way he was letting Trace handle this by himself. He had the training for situations similar to this and depending on the layout of the place, he might just be able to get in without being noticed. He wanted to share his thoughts with Trace, but knew that the other man would shoot him down and want him to stay out of it.

Trace called the chief a couple of different times to get an update and was assured that they already had the barricades up and had called in the swat team. They were simply waiting for Trace to get there before they moved in. He had watched Jackson as they drove and was beginning to suspect that he had something up his sleeve.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Trace told him.

“What are you talking about?” Jackson asked, wondering what he had done that had given himself away.

“You’re planning something,” Trace told him. “You need to understand that this is my problem and I’ll deal with it my way.”

“You’ll deal with it your way, gotcha,” Jackson answered, knowing he was going to have to wait for the perfect opportunity to slip away.

By the time they reached the city, Trace had himself and his emotions under a tight fist of control. He had Jackson pull over so they could switch places since Jackson didn’t know the city. Trace took them through the familiar streets and tried to push down the dread that filled his gut. The pulled onto Mitch’s street and even from that distance they could make out the glow of the red and blue lights flashing. Trace pulled over and cut the engine a few houses away from Mitch’s.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Trace warned as they climbed down from the cab of the truck.

“I won’t do anything stupid,” Jackson promised. He was surprised when Trace took hold of his hand to lead him through the conglomerate of police vehicles with Hercules hot on their trails.

“Anything new?” Trace asked as he reached the chief.

“No, we’re not even sure at this point how many are inside or exactly where they are. Who’s this?” the chief asked as he pointed to Jackson.

“He’s with me,” Trace informed him as he released Jackson’s hand.

“You should have known not to bring a civilian here,” the chief reprimanded before turning to Jackson. “Just make sure you stay the hell out of the way.”

“Maybe I can call and talk to them,” Trace volunteered, “it’s me they want anyways.”

“You can try to talk to them, but just so we’re clear, you are not going in. We’ve already got one of our own in there, we don’t need another one.”

“Gotcha chief,” Trace answered as he pulled out his cell phone. He walked back to his truck and climbed in with the chief and Jackson right behind him before he dialed Mitch’s number. He motioned for the other two men to be quiet and put the phone on speaker.

“You here yet?” the voice that answered asked without preamble.

“Almost,” Trace answered, hoping to buy just a little more time. He really needed them to by that he was still on his way, which is why he’d left the truck running. Now he just needed to know that Mitch was okay. “Let me talk to Mitch so I know he’s okay.”

“You’re in no position to make demands,” the man told him.

“You’re right, but I’m the one you want, so why should I show up if you’ve already killed them?” Trace waited impatiently to see if the man would put Mitch on the phone and sighed in relief when he heard his friend’s voice.

“Trace?”

“Yeah buddy, it’s me. Everybody okay in there?”

“We’re fine. Stay away from here Trace, don’t give them what they want,” Mitch warned, only to let out a grunt of pain as one of the men socked him in the gut.

“Mitch? You okay man?” Trace asked. He could hear voices in the background and cringed at the words he was hearing.

“You’d better hope he comes, he’s the only chance you have,” said the same voice who had originally answered the phone. Seconds later Trace heard the voice back on the phone. “You have one hour to get your ass here.”

Trace fought down the fear that threatened to choke him as he heard the click signally the other man hanging up. He slammed his fist down on the hood of the patrol car in front of him and barely felt the pain that resonated up his arm. He turned tortured eyes to the chief in a what now look.

“I don’t know Trace,” the chief told him as they got back out of the truck and made their way back to the patrol cars.

“There’s got to be something,” Trace commented. Despite his resolve, Trace turned to Jackson. He knew that these were the exact scenarios that Jackson had been trained to hand in the Marine’s, but when he turned to his lover he found him gone.

“Where’d your friend go?” the chief asked with a pointed look behind Trace.

He was silently cussing as his gaze scanned the immediate area, hoping to see Jackson’s familiar face. He realized the futility of his actions when he heard a whine from Hercules and looked down to find his four legged companion’s gaze focused on Mitch’s house.

“God damn it,” Trace swore and tried to move towards the house only to be stopped by the chief.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re not going in there, remember?”

Instead of answering, Trace turned his attention back to his dog. Over the last three weeks, Hercules had bonded with Jackson. He had no doubt that if he sent the dog in, he would go directly to Jackson and protect him just as he would himself.

“Find him boy,” Traced ordered before anyone could realize his intentions. He watched as Hercules sprang to attention and darted through the maze of police cars. He lost sight of him for a moment when he disappeared into the bushes. It took a minute for the dog to reappear and when he did, Jackson was by his side. He wanted to scream out to Jackson, but bit his lip, the last thing he wanted to do was call attention to Jackson.

It was a tense five minutes that seemed more like hours before he heard shouts coming from the house. The shouts were immediately followed by the sound of a single report from a firearm. Before anyone could react, the front door opened and Mitch appeared with his daughter sobbing in his arms and his wife clinging to his side. The only thing that still worried him was that there was no sign of Jackson or Hercules.

Later that Night

“I should have let them arrest your ass,” Trace groused as he glared across the seat of the truck at Jackson. “I told you not to do anything stupid.”

“I didn’t,” Jackson told him. “I did exactly what I’ve been trained to do, it wasn’t stupid.”

“Were you armed?” Trace asked him.

“Well no, but…”

“Were they armed?”

“Well yeah, but…” Jackson wasn’t even able to finish his thought before Trace jumped in again.

“So if they were armed and you weren’t, what exactly wasn’t stupid about going in there like that? You could have been hurt Jackson, and it would have been on my head.”

“Wait a minute, why would it have been on your head? I’m the one who decided to go in, I’m the one who snuck away from you, and I’m the one who went in unarmed. To me, that puts it all on my head.” Despite the fact that Trace was obviously pissed at him, Jackson enjoyed knowing that Trace had been worried about him as well as his friends.

“It would have been on my head, because I’m the one who ignored my gut and took you with me. If I had taken you back to the cabins then you wouldn’t have had the opportunity,” Trace told him.

“If you had taken me back to the cabins,” Jackson told him calmly, “then you wouldn’t have gotten there in time. When you called when we got there, they gave you an hour and you would have still been an hour and a half away. Admit it, you wouldn’t have gotten there in time if you’d taken me home first.”

“Just answer me this,” Trace pleaded. “What possessed you to go in there?”

“Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Whether or not I want to, I need to,” Trace told him.

“I wish I could explain it better,” Jackson started, “but it’s simple. I knew that Mitch and his family were important to you. You’ve become very important to me Trace and that made them important as well. It wasn’t just that though. They’d already shot you once and tried a second time, if something had happened and they got away, they would have kept coming at you. You know that as well as I do. I knew that I had a good chance of being able to subdue them, and decided to act on it. It was the only thing that I could do to keep you safe.”

“Jackson, you know I like you, but I don’t know if we can have more than the time I’m at the cabin. I’m only going to be there a couple of more weeks, what do we do when I go home? We live two hours away from each other, and granted, that’s not a lot, but when you consider that we’re still just getting to know each other… Well, it doesn’t make for a happy ending.”

“Maybe not, but don’t we owe it to ourselves to at least try?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Trace answered quietly as they pulled up in front of Jackson’s cabin.

“Aren’t you going to come in?” Jackson asked when Trace left the engine running and made no move to get out of the truck.

“Not tonight, I need some time to think,” Trace answered him quietly, refusing to even so much as meet Jackson’s gaze.

“I guess we can talk more tomorrow then,” Jackson answered. He didn’t like it, but knew that if he pushed that Trace would pull away even more.

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Trace answered robotically. He didn’t even respond when Jackson leaned over and brushed a light kiss over his lips. He didn’t glance over when Jackson opened the door. He didn’t look back as he headed towards his rented cabin. He didn’t allow himself to feel anything as he climbed out of the truck and headed inside. He wasn’t even sure he could feel anything.

A Month Later

“What is going on with you?” Mitch asked as he perched on the edge of Trace’s desk. He hated the desolate look that was always present in his partner’s gaze.

“Nothing is going on with me,” Trace denied.

“You barely eat and you look like you haven’t slept in over a week. I’ll ask you again, what is going on with you?”

“It’s none of your damn business,” Trace told him.

“None of my business?” Mitch asked him as he stood up. “It is my damn business when your attention isn’t on the job. I work next to you every damn day and I count on you to cover my back, but lately you haven’t been worth a damn.”

“Get off my damn back,” Trace growled out as he shot to his feet. “You want to talk about covering your back? Where were you when those damn bastards shot me?” ‘Which sent me into the arms of a wonderful man’ Trace’s mind filled in.

Trace shook his head as though it would be enough to get his thoughts away from Jackson. He knew that Mitch was right. He hadn’t been sleeping more than an hour or two a night and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually eaten a full meal. He didn’t know what Jackson thought of him after the way he’d left. He hadn’t even waited until morning to tell him goodbye, instead he’d packed up his things and left right after dropping Jackson at his cabin. He hadn’t even left a note.

“That’s a low blow,” Mitch shot back. “Does this have anything to do with the guy who came back here with you when my family was being held hostage?”

“Stay out of it,” Trace bit out.

“I can’t stay out of it Trace,” Mitch told him. “You’re not just my partner, you’re my friend, and my brother. You’ve changed since you came back and I’m worried.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Trace told him sadly. As angry as he had been earlier, most of it had been directed at himself. “I just screwed up what was probably the best thing that has happened to me.”

“How do you know you screwed it up?” Mitch asked him.

“I just know,” Trace told him, opening up his drawer and taking out his stress ball.

“Last I knew, you weren’t a psychic,” Mitch pointed out. “You won’t know for sure that you screwed it up until you talk to him and find out what he’s thinking.”

“You don’t know how bad I wanted to stay up there with him,” Trace told him.

“So why didn’t you?”

“When he went into the house after you, I had to face the fact that not only could I lose my best friend, but very possibly the guy that I was already head over heels for. I couldn’t figure out what to do, I still can’t.”

“How do you mean?” Mitch asked.

“You told me yourself that you didn’t want to have to train another partner,” Trace started. “We’re not only best friends and partners, but also brothers. What if I give all of that up and then it doesn’t work out?”

“Trace, as everything that you just named, I want you to be happy. No, I don’t really want to have another partner, but it would be beyond selfish of me to expect you to walk away if you have the chance at making things work.”

“You’ve always been there for me,” Trace told him with a slight smile.

“I always will be, but I’m not going to keep you warm at night,” Mitch told him gently.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Trace admitted.

“Maybe an apology is in order,” Mitch suggested.

“That’s the least of what is in order,” Trace agreed. “Knowing how dangerous it was, he still went in because of…”

“Because of what?” Mitch prodded.

“He went in because of me,” Trace said quietly. “He told me that he knew that it was important to me and essentially it was the only way he could be sure that I’d be safe.”

“Sounds like he really cared for you,” Mitch told him.

“Yeah, it does, let’s just hope he accepts the apology,” Trace told him as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

“Hey, where are you going?” Mitch asked as Trace headed towards the door.

“I’m going to go try and fix it,” Trace told him. “Let the chief know I’m taking the rest of the day as a personal day.”

“Shouldn’t you do that?” Mitch questioned.

“Should, but not going to,” Trace told him with the first smile Mitch had seen from him in over a month. “If all goes well, you might just have to break in a new partner after all.” Not waiting for an answer, Trace hurried out of the station and to his truck.

“About damn time,” Mitch grumbled as he headed towards the chief’s office. “I hate this sentimental shit.”

Trace made a quick stop at his house to throw a few things in a bag and grab Hercules before getting on the interstate and heading for the cabins. He could only hope that Jackson would listen to him and wouldn’t shut the door in his face. His nerves were in shambles as he pulled up in front of Jackson’s cabin.

“Guess this is it,” Trace told Hercules as he opened his truck door. Hercules apparently didn’t realize Trace’s need for a minute to prepare himself, instead, his dog ran directly up to Jackson’s door and started barking up a frenzy. A moment later, Trace watched as the door opened and Jackson stepped out.

“Hercules! What are you doing here?” Jackson exclaimed.

Trace watched Jackson bend down and ruffle Hercules’s head before standing back up and looking out at where Trace stood awkwardly next to his truck. His feet felt glued to the ground as Jackson started walking towards the truck and he felt like he may just have a heart attack with how fast his heart was beating. He had anticipated many different reactions, but was unprepared for the actual greeting he received.

Without a word being uttered, Jackson closed the distance between himself and Trace. His gaze never left the other man’s face and as the pain and what he assumed to be love shone in his eyes. He stopped less than a foot from Trace and gazed down at him for a minute before closing the distance and capturing Trace’s lips with his own.

“Was just about ready to give up,” Jackson whispered when he finally pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” Trace whispered back.

“You’re here, that’s all that matters,” Jackson answered him before leading him into the house.

“I really think we need to talk,” Trace told him once they were seated together on the couch.

“We don’t need to sit and hash it all out,” Jackson told him gently. “I just want you to answer one question for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Why did you leave?” Jackson asked, a hint of the pain he had felt slipping into his voice.

“I was scared,” Trace answered honestly. He had given the situation a lot of thought on the drive up and knew that it was the truth. “Before you went into that house, I only had to fear losing Mitch, and trust me, that was bad enough. Me and Mitch have been best friends for years.”

“I can understand that,” Jackson told him.

“That’s not why I left though. When I realized that you had gone into that house, I was beyond terrified. I knew that if I lost Mitch it would hurt, but the mere thought of losing you, well, it was just too much for me to handle. We hadn’t even known each other very long and deep down I knew that if anything were to happen to you, it would feel like my world was ending.”

“Nothing happened to me though,” Trace told him. The only part that he held back was the fact that if Trace hadn’t sent Hercules after him, he probably would have had a bullet through his head. The shot that had been fired had been aimed at his head when Hercules reacted, knocking into the gunman and throwing his aim off.

“It was the fear that something could have happened,” Trace tried to make him understand. “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Jackson disagreed. “What made you change your mind?”

“It wasn’t any one thing in particular,” Trace hedged. “It was a whole bunch of stuff that made me realize.”

“Realize what?” Jackson asked as he pulled Trace back to nestle in his arms.

“Realize that there is no going back for me. I tried to push the few weeks we had together out of my mind, but it proved to be impossible. You’re ingrained in me now.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Jackson said with a smile as he pressed a light kiss against Trace’s neck.

“No, it’s not. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I love you Jackson.”

“I love you too babe,” Jackson replied as Trace turned his upper body until they could look in each other’s eyes. “What happens now?”

“How would you feel about a roommate with a dog?” Trace asked cautiously, hoping he hadn’t moved things along too quickly.

“Nothing would make me happier,” Jackson answered with a smile as his head lowered towards Trace’s waiting lips.