“Someone’s following us,” he breathed against Royce’s lips. Royce blinked and his lips tightened but his body remained relaxed as it pressed against Grant’s.
“What does he look like?” Royce whispered as his lips nudged and nipped at Grant’s. Grant laughed and turned them slightly then nuzzled his face against Royce’s cheek.
“Chinese runner in super white Nikes,” he whispered against Royce’s ear. Grant yelped as Royce’s fingers tickled his ribs and they turned a little more. Royce hummed very softly as he pulled Grant’s lips to his.
“I see him,” he sighed quietly then kissed Grant tenderly. “Come on,” Royce said as he turned Grant and slid his arm around his shoulders. “I want you to run as soon as we reach the trees. I’ll intercept him and you’ll have plenty of time to get back to the parking lot, if he doesn’t turn and run once he knows I’ve made him,” he said under his breath. Grant looked at the path ahead of them and shook his head very slightly. It cut through the woods for about a quarter of a mile and came out on the other side of the town center, by The Six Beans.
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Grant stated as his panic crested. Royce made a soothing shushing sound as he gave his arm a squeeze.
“I’ll be fine,” he promised quietly. Grant shook his head.
“Chris said he would be fine and I let him go alone,” he hissed. Royce stopped Grant and gripped his shoulders and waited until he could trap his eyes. “I don’t care who that man is, he won’t hurt me,” Royce promised.
“What if he has a gun?” Grant whispered.
“I have a gun,” Royce said and Grant’s eyes flared.
“You do!” He hissed and Royce raised his brow in warning.
“Always. Under my coat or strapped to my ankle. Why do you think I wear so many suits and keep you on my right while we’re walking?” He asked and it took all of Grant’s strength to stop himself from slapping his hand over his eyes and dragging it down his face.
“Funny enough, I never made the connection,” he said then mentally scanned the rest of the trail and came up with a plan. “Once we’re in the woods we can run ahead to the make-out tree.”
“The what?” Royce asked but Grant ignored him as he hooked their arms and towed him towards the woods.
“It’s not that far ahead. There’s a bench in the woods and everyone makes out there,” Grant explained quietly as they lost sight of the small lake and the park. Edgar was nearly to the bench and Grant pointed at it as he pulled Royce. “There!” He whispered loudly and he ran. Royce followed and crashed into Grant when they reached the bench.
“Now what?” He asked and Grant looked back to make sure the jogger hadn’t reached the woods yet.
“Give me your gun,” Grant ordered.
“I don’t think so,” Royce said and Grant stomped his foot.
“Come on, he won’t expect me to sneak up on him! Give me your gun!” He urged. Royce’s lips pulled tight before he swore and reached into his coat.
“I wish you trusted me half as much,” he said and Grant flinched.
“I…” He reeled until Royce pushed his gun at him.
“Now what?” He asked and Grant jumped and pointed at the bench. It was mostly obscured from the path and well-shaded.
“Right. Sit there and do that thing we did when we were kids where it looked like we were making out with someone,” he told Royce.
“What?” Royce blinked cluelessly and Grant wrapped his arms around himself and squirmed suggestively. “Ah,” Royce said and they looked toward the trail when they heard a distant crack.
“I’ll stay over there and wait for him to come up behind you,” Grant explained as he pointed at a thick cluster of trees.
“Grant, I’d like to question him but I really don’t think he’s going to do anything…”
“What if he does, though? I’m not going to let him jump us in the woods!” Grant argued as he waved the gun and Royce held up his hands.
“Fine!” He whispered as he backed toward the bench. Grant turned and dashed across the path and into the trees and watched as Royce sat and turned his back to him and the trail. Edgar’s head tilted from side to side as he waited for them to catch up. The man with the new white sneakers ran into the woods then slowed and trotted in place when he spotted Royce. The runner looked around before he jogged a little closer. Royce moaned Grant’s name as his hands roamed over his ribs and back and the runner’s head swiveled in confusion as he edged nearer. Grant waited until the man was between him and Royce then extended his arms in front of him and held the gun level.
“Don’t move!” Grant said as he stepped from behind the trees and the man gasped as he pushed his hands into the air and turned.
“Excellent job!” Royce proclaimed as he hopped to his feet and strode out of the shaded alcove. He leaned around the runner then flashed him a brilliant smile. “Not you, obviously. Him,” he said as he pointed at Grant. “Thank goodness he was paying attention, I was enjoying myself a little too much,” Royce confided as he patted the man down then whistled. “Is this for me?” He asked as he reached under the jogger’s windbreaker and pulled out a pistol. The man’s eyes dropped to the ground but he remained silent with his hands up. Royce leaned close and murmured something smooth and teasing in what Grant thought might have been Mandarin and the man jumped and shook his head.
“I won’t tell you anything,” the man said shakily and Royce rolled his eyes.
“Of course, you won’t,” he replied dryly then grabbed the runner by the back of his windbreaker. “Over here,” he ordered as he gave him a jerk and the man threw Grant a terrified look. Grant felt another wave of panic as his eyes swung to Royce. “Come on,” Royce said as he pushed the jogger toward the bench. “Face that way and get on your knees.”
“What are you doing?” Grant hissed nervously as he looked around but Royce held up a hand, silencing him. Royce spun the pistol and slammed the butt into the back of the man’s skull and he grunted as he slumped forward onto the bench.
“Let’s do a little rearranging…” Royce said and slid the pistol into his pocket before he squatted behind the runner and gave his track pants a quick tug so they were around his knees. Grant pulled his fist against his mouth and whimpered.
“Jesus… What are you doing?” Grant bit down on his lips as Royce stretched the man’s arms over his head and tied his wrists to the bench. There was an impatient whine from Edgar and Grant cringed. “Hold on, boy. Royce is committing assault,” he said weakly. Royce laughed as he bounded away from the bench and smoothed out the sleeves of his coat.
“Let’s go before someone comes along,” he said then held out his hand. “My gun, please,” Royce asked then smiled. There was a hard edge to it but it softened and Royce relaxed as Grant set it on his palm. “Thank you,” he said briskly as he gestured for Grant to lead the way. Grant frowned back at the unconscious man draped across the seat of the bench. “Time to go, Grant,” Royce called as he pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and lovingly polished his gun. Royce slipped his pistol back into his coat then hummed as he shook out the handkerchief then tucked it back into the pocket on his chest. “You were marvelous back there,” he murmured as he tugged and plucked at the handkerchief until it resembled a flower then flashed Grant a stunning smile. “You would make an excellent agent,” he added as he turned and scanned around him. Grant snorted and his brows fell as Royce pulled the jogger’s pistol from his pocket.