Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

few streetlights and few homes. Arm in arm, they stepped away from the pool of light cast from the bar. Mac stiffen seconds before the hair on the back of his neck prickled.
    "Gray," Mac whispered.
    "I know." Grayson slid his hand into his pocket, clasping onto the knife he'd grabbed before going into the restaurant.
    "On three?"
    "Not yet." Grayson pushed Mac into an alley and up against the side of a dingy adobe building. He leaned in, letting his lips slide over Mac's neck before speaking. "How many?"
    Mac's body shifted a bit. "Three guys."
    "Plan?"
    "They're past the alley; they'll circle back around."
    Gray stiffened, "My knife is ready."
    "I've got my gun. You take anyone who shows up over your left shoulder, I'll go for the ones to your right."
    The alley erupted in a mass of shouts, pandemonium and pain. Lucky for Grayson, he received none of the pain. When the last of their attackers hit the ground, he looked next to him, expecting to find Mac, but no one stood beside him. Grayson's eyes dipped to the cracked street and the life whooshed out of him.
    "Mac, talk to me."
    "I'm good. Just a scrape. Help me get to the car."
    He pulled his buddy to standing, hating every grimace, every groan of pain the big guy let out. He couldn't determine the damage yet, but the nearest hospital sat over twenty minutes away in Jiménez.
    Grayson opened the back door of the car, shoved Mac in and grabbed a bottle of water out of the trunk. He raced over to where his lover lay, searching for the blood.
    "Where?"
    "Calf," Mac groaned
    "Damn, they had bad aim."
    "Tell me about it."
    Grayson pulled up Mac's pant leg, hating the pain they'd caused Mac. A gash, about an inch in length and a half-inch wide but not too deep sat on the outside edge of his muscle. The blood flowed freely.
    "You'll live. We'll have to get it looked at, but I can do some makeshift bandaging. It'll hurt like a bitch, but you've had worse."
    "Fucking ass shot me. I should go back there and kill him."
    Grayson worked on the wound, cleaning the spot with water and wrapping a clean shirt around the muscle, praying his efforts would be enough till they made it to Jiménez.
    "Go back there and get the information," Mac pleaded through gritted teeth.
    Grayson shook his head. "No way I'm leaving you."
    "The information, we have to find those kids. I'm good."
    He glanced up at Mac, seeing the determination in his eyes, knowing he needed to leave his friend but not liking that decision one bit. "You sure?" Grayson asked.
    "I'll fucking live but those kids won't."
    Grayson stood and looked off into the inky night. He had to try. Mac wasn't going to bleed out. He might be sore and on a round of antibiotics for a while, but he wouldn't die if Grayson took twenty minutes to question the jerks.
    With his mind made up, Grayson held out his hand. "Give me your gun."
    Grayson marched over to the alley where the bad stuff had gone down, sneaking a look before committing. Two of the thugs had gotten up and fled. A moment of panic raced through him. What about Mac? But he pushed the fear away; secure that Mac could take care of himself.
    The one man left on the ground got a tap to the face with Grayson's toe, jostling him awake. Grayson slipped into Spanish, questioning the thug. Turns out the kids were being kept in a farmhouse not too far away. The guy described the cutoff from the highway, the house, gave directions and even divulged how many people were watching them and where the sentries were on the property. A bit much as far as information went, but Grayson had his ways to get people to talk. He might look harmless, but the truth of his past always shocked others when they found out, causing them to steer clear of his path. He rarely shared the truth; even Mac didn't know everything, every twisting detail that would someday come out, but not yet. He wouldn't disclose the truth yet.
    Mac was fine when he got back to the car, a bit colorless, even for a big black dude, but he seemed good, well as good as a shooting victim could be. Grayson filled him in and they took off, driving out of town and into the night, searching for the house where the Carpenter kids were being kept.
    "I'm good, you know," Mac mumbled.
    "Relax, we're not there yet, but when we arrive I'm going to need you to do that thing you do."
    "Really, thought you wanted to keep that private."
    Grayson grunted, his face heating and his dick taking notice. "Not that thing. Damn, you know how to push my