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Probably both.
Pulling out his cell phone, he saw six missed calls from Marshal.
He dialed the man’s number and waited.
“Ryker…” his name was breathed into the phone with so much emotion, Ryker held his breath.
And while all the misunderstanding from the hurtful words were still there, he wanted nothing more than to be in Marshal’s arms right now.
The bodyguard’s voice was so tight and gravely, it was almost unrecognizable.
“I’m here,” he whispered, swallowing around the lump in his throat.
“In the walls?”
“Yeah, I have my weapon.” His voice was hushed, almost inaudible.
“Do you know how many there are?”
“A lot. They seem to be moving in groups of two or three.”
“Have you seen any of the bodyguards or FBI?”
“No, but I know who these guys are after.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Marshal couldn’t breathe and he squeezed his phone so tightly, he heard the case crack.
“Stay in the passageways,” he gritted the words out, his mind racing.
“I can fight.”
He almost had a fucking heart attack right then. “No, baby. Don’t fight. Stay hidden.”
The silence came over the phone so long that Marshal feared he’d lost the connection. He pulled the phone away and looked, but he was still connected.
“Ryker?” Marshal hissed, his voice filled with fear.
“You called me baby.”
Had he?It must have been subconscious, but fitting.
Even before becoming intimate, Marshal had always felt that Ryker was…his.
And that was a big fucking problem. He’d come into the younger man’s life under the guise of being someone he was not.
He’d lied his way into that house and into their lives. Sweat trickled down his nape and soaked the armpits of his shirt.
He was a liar.
But right then, there was bigger shit to deal with.
“You do like me,” Ryker breathed out the words with conviction. “Don’t you? You were lying to Bishop.”
Marshal closed his eyes and turned away from the curious gazes of the officers.
