“Okay. Keep me posted. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing.” Jack hung up, and King closed his laptop. If Harold was hiding something, Jack would find it. Could Harold be a spy? Whatever was happening, they’d have to find out on their own because Bowers wasn’t about to share any intel with them. Not that King would stop trying to get something out of the man. While Jack did his thing, King would pay Bowers a visit downstairs. He might not get any new information, but he’d have the satisfaction of annoying the hell out of Bowers for a while.

  King checked his watch and stood. Leo had been at it for hours. If he left Leo to his own devices, he’d keep going until he passed out. He was so determined to get this thing done. If it weren’t for King bringing him his meals, Leo would probably work straight through the day. After checking in with Ace downstairs, King grabbed a light lunch for himself and Leo before returning upstairs. He set the plate with Leo’s sandwich and Goldfish crackers on the desk then stepped up beside Leo.

  It was as if Leo wasn’t even there. Usually, it took a few minutes of King stroking his cheek or running his fingers down Leo’s jaw to snap him out of it. Curious, King bent down and kissed Leo’s cheek.

  Leo froze, fingers hovering over the keyboard, eyes going huge and round as saucers. He slowly moved his eyes to King, the rest of him unmoving.

  “Hi,” King said, smiling warmly.

  “Um, hi.” Leo gingerly lowered his hands to his lap. “Well, that was… weird.”

  “What? My kissing you?”

  “Yeah. No. I mean I started working, and you were nowhere around, and then I felt you kiss me, and suddenly there you were.”

  “Guess that’s what happens when you get sucked into that vortex of yours. I was curious if that would get you out of it quicker.” He couldn’t help his smugness. “I’d say it worked very well.”

  Leo narrowed his gaze at him. “So you kissed me just to get my attention?”

  “I did. Yes.”

  “Well, you have it. Now what?”

  King chuckled and straightened. “Now, we take a break for lunch.”

  With a small huff, Leo picked up his sandwich. Every meal went the same, with Leo never realizing how hungry he was until he took the first bite. Then King would blink, and then Leo’s food was gone.

  “Tell me how much you know about self-defense.” King started moving the furniture to make room for them, his eyes darting to Leo as he stretched, his baseball tee rising and revealing a patch of what King knew to be very soft skin and the faintest happy trail going from his navel to disappear beneath his loose lounge pants, pants that left nothing to the imagination as far as Leo’s pert backside and tantalizing package.

  “I know nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Not because I didn’t try to learn, but my instructor said, and I quote, ‘I would have better luck training a plank of wood.’ And then he went on to say a bunch of stuff after that, but I wasn’t listening.”

  King nodded. “Okay. What happened?”

  “Other than him being a total d-bag? Whenever he’d give a command, I’d think of something else.”

  “Word association.”

  A smile spread across Leo’s face. “Yes! Exactly. He expected me to remember all these words for each command, but that didn’t make sense to me.”

  “So, let’s say someone’s about to shoot at you, and I want you to drop to the floor. What word would make you think of dropping down?”

  “Penny.”

  “Like the coin?”

  “Yeah. You know, drop a penny, pick it up.”

  “Okay.” King nodded, walking around the empty space he’d created. Leo stood watching him, his expression puzzled but fascinated. “Penny,” King shouted, pleased when Leo dove to the floor, his hands over his head and eyes wide. “Good.”

  “Oh my God, what the hell? You scared the crap out of me!” Leo jumped to his feet, marched over to King and punched him in the arm.

  “Ouch! What?” King chuckled and moved away to avoid Leo’s pummeling. “How else would I know if it worked?”

  “You… you’re… a jerk.” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at King.

  “Aw, are you mad?” King circled Leo, making the circle tighter with every turn until he was behind Leo, his chest pressed up to Leo’s back, and his hands slipping around to Leo’s chest. He murmured in Leo’s ear. “Good. Get mad, Leo.” King walked over to the futon, unzipped his gym bag, and removed two black-and-white boxing mitts. He tossed one onto the couch and slipped the other one on before he walked back to Leo. He held the mitt up, pointing to the white circle in the middle. “See this circle?”

  Leo nodded.

  “Good. I want you to punch it.”

  Leo shifted from one foot to the other. “King, I don’t think….”

  “Punch it!”

  “Don’t yell at me!” Leo growled, punching the mitt hard.

  King smiled. “Nice job.”

  “You’re kind of a sadist.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  Leo huffed, but his lips twitched at the corners. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “I know you do,” King said. “You’re one of the smartest guys I know.” He leaned in to whisper. “Don’t tell Jack.”

  Leo chuckled. “Okay, just tell me what you want me to do. And no more yelling.”

  “No more yelling,” King promised. He’d only done it because he knew he’d get a reaction out of Leo. King had learned early on that Leo hated being yelled at. It would upset him at first, but then he’d get pissed until it built and built, then snap. “That was good, but you’re going to hurt your arm if you don’t stop locking your elbow. Let’s practice jabbing. Maybe we should practice your stance first.” King removed the glove and held it under his arm. “You’re right-handed, so stand straight, legs together.”

  Leo did as instructed, and King stood next to him. “Turn your body slightly to the right, and move your right leg back like this. Good. Bend your knees, not too much. Yeah, just like that. This will help you keep your balance. Now, fists up, elbows in. Always keep your elbows tucked in, protect your ribs. Turn your arm as you extend it, like this. Keep your wrist straight, and don’t lock your elbows.” King demonstrated slowly, and Leo mimicked the move exactly. “Then jab.” He did it quicker, and Leo did the same. “Perfect. Well done.”

  Grabbing the mitt, he slipped it on again, took a stance, and faced Leo. “Hit the circle. Snap and jab.”

  Leo took his stance, focused on the circle and punched.

  “Great! Again.”

  The more Leo hit the white circle, and the more King encouraged him, the harder Leo’s punches became, his confidence rising. They practiced for a while with the right and then the left, and before too long King had Leo alternating, left, right, left, right. From there they moved onto hooks and uppercuts.

  They spent the next few hours going through defense moves. Leo was a natural; he simply struggled with confidence. He needed to be pushed, but he wouldn’t respond to anyone pushing. If he didn’t have complete trust in the person, Leo would shrink away, his anxiety and fear getting the better of him, but with King? With King, Leo pushed back. Hard. The more King pushed, the more determined Leo became to show he could do it. Because he trusted King, felt safe with him. Could be himself with King.

  After an intense session of sparring, they went through more commands, going through them several times, and once King was sure Leo would remember their word association, King got them both dinner, and Leo went back to work. He’d been making great progress and was close to finishing the third section of code for the program.

  The following day, King tested Leo, and although he’d pissed Leo off for scaring him, Leo would do as commanded. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and King still hadn’t asked Leo to join him and his family. He wasn’t sure why. They’d fooled around a few more times since that first night, and after waking up in the middle of the night with Leo sprawled on him, he decided to start sleeping on the futon, since there was more room. As much as he loved having Leo on him, not being able to move all night wasn’t good for either of them. Also, Leo had kneed him in the balls by mistake last night. Well, at least he’d said it was a mistake. It was suspect, since King had scared Leo so badly with one of his commands earlier that evening that his Goldfish crackers had gone flying.

  Walking into the living room, King frowned. “Leo?” Seeing as how the only place Leo could hide was the bathroom and he’d just come from there, King headed downstairs. “Ace, is Leo down here?”

  Ace lifted his gaze from his laptop. “What? I thought he was upstairs.”

  “He hasn’t come down?”

  “Nope. I would have noticed.” Ace jumped from the couch and joined King in searching the whole of the apartment.

  “Fuck, he’s done it again!” King started to pace. “Shit. Why? Leo only disappears when he’s anxious. Why is he anxious? He’s been fine for weeks.”

  “What is it? What’s he done?”

  “He’s pulled his Houdini act again. Why do you think Bowers and his men haven’t stormed the place?”

  Ace gaped at him. “Are you saying Leo walked out like he did in the bunker? Where the hell did he go?”

  “I don’t know.” King started to pace when it occurred to him. “No, wait. I do know. He’s looking for something to eat. Every time he disappears, it’s because he’s anxious and goes searching for a snack.”

  “But the closet is full of his Goldfish crackers, and the drawers are stuffed with bags of those Swedish Fish.”

  “It must be something else.” King ran for the door and took hold of the handle. “Shit. The door’s unlocked. Damn it, Leo.”

  “Should I get Bowers?”

  “No. Stay here in case he comes back. I’ll call you if I need backup. If we both go running, Bowers is going to sound the alarm, and Leo doesn’t need that kind of stress.”

  As much as King wanted to run, if he did, he’d alert Bowers. Not even Jack had caught Leo walking out. How in the hell did he do it? King reached the street, his heart pounding in his ears. He refused to let his judgment be clouded by worst-case scenarios. Leo had to be somewhere close by. The majority of the food places on this side of the beach were to the left, so he’d start there. Taking off down the sidewalk, he brought up the map of the area in his mind and tried to think like Leo. If he wanted a snack, where would he go? At this time of night, not many places were open, and the bars or restaurants that were open weren’t likely to carry the kind of snack Leo would go for. Donuts. There was a donut shop a few minutes’ walk down the road. But it was closed. Leo would know that, wouldn’t he?

  Movement caught his attention up ahead, and he saw Leo crossing the street several feet away, unaware of the traffic heading his way. The speed limit on this street was reduced, but at this time of night, with the low visibility, it would be too easy for someone to miss seeing Leo. King bolted for Leo, racing across the street as cars approached, and tackled Leo as a car screeched by, horn blaring. They hit the short row of bushes, rolled over them, and landed on the grass on the other side. After quickly getting up, King helped Leo to his feet, brushed the dirt off him, and checked him over.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  Leo blinked at him as if coming out of a daze. “King?”

  “Jesus, Leo, you can’t do that!” King’s bellow made Leo flinch, and King kicked himself. “I’m sorry. You ….” How could he make Leo understand what he’d put him through? He grabbed Leo’s hand and placed it over his heart. “Do you feel that?”

  Leo’s eyes went huge, and his head shot up.

  “You did that, Leo.” King’s heartbeat was pounding, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths from the scare Leo had given him. “If something had happened to you—”

  Leo threw himself into King’s arms, smashing their lips together, and for the first time since he’d discovered Leo was missing, King could breathe. He returned Leo’s hungry kiss, his arms wrapped around him, holding him tight against him. A blaring car horn had King pulling back, but only long enough to let his chin rest on the top of Leo’s head.

  “Please don’t do that again. If you need something, anything, tell me.”

  “I’m sorry. I was lost in my head like I tend to be when I’m working, and I suddenly had a really bad craving for donuts.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” King asked, holding him out at arm’s length. “I would have sent someone. The donut shop isn’t even open. It’s been closed for hours, Leo.”

  “I know that, but it’s kind of like I’m day-walking or something. I’m still in my head, and I don’t realize what I’m doing until I’ve done it.”

  “We’ll finish talking about this back at your apartment, okay?” King knew there was more to this than Leo was telling him. His “day-walking” was linked to anxiety. Leo was fretting about something, and King needed to know what it was, needed to assure Leo everything was going to be fine.

  King kept Leo close as they walked briskly back to the apartment. As expected, the door to the first-floor condo was thrown open, and Bowers stormed out, nostrils flaring, face red. King threw a hand up to stop him.

  “It’s fine. He’s fine. I’ll take care of it.”

  Bowers gritted his teeth, hands balled into fists at his sides before he marched back into the condo and slammed the door. When they got upstairs, all the guys were waiting for them in the living room. They all stood, their eyes filled with concern.

  “Thank fuck,” Ace said, running over. He put his hands on Leo’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  Leo nodded. “Um, yeah.”

  “Are you sure?” Lucky asked, looking him over.

  Another nod.

  Red stepped in front of Leo. “You’re not hurt anywhere?”

  Leo shook his head, his brows drawn together like he didn’t understand what was happening. King leaned in, whispering in his ear. “They were worried about you.”

  A sharp intake of breath was quickly followed by a hard swallow. “I’m sorry I worried you guys.”

  “It’s getting late,” King said, motioning for Leo to go upstairs. “Why don’t you go ahead and take a shower. I’ll be up in a minute.”

  “Okay.” Leo headed upstairs, looking like he was lost in thought. Hopefully nothing that would have him disappearing again. Maybe now that he knew King wasn’t the only one who’d worry, his instincts might fight him on going for a midnight stroll.

  “How do we stop him from doing that?” Lucky asked, concern etched into his face. “I mean, we didn’t even see him leave. It makes no sense how he got past all those cameras.”

  “We reviewed the footage from the bunker,” Jack said, “and Lucky’s right. It makes no sense.”

  “There’s something that keeps bothering me about that. There is no way it happens to work out every time. That would mean a hell of a lot of coincidences.” Something was going on.

  “What do you mean?” Ace asked.

  “Bring me your laptop. Jack, bring up the footage from now when Leo disappeared.” King handed Jack Ace’s laptop, and they all gathered around him when he took a seat on the floor, laptop on the coffee table so they could all see. It was there, clear as day, Leo coming downstairs and walking right out the front door. From the outside security cameras, they stared in disbelief as the cameras captured every other part of the building except where Leo was.

  “How?” Red asked, stunned. “Aren’t the cameras sensitive to motion?”

  Jack nodded. “Hm, we should work backward.” He looked up at King. “Where were you when Leo disappeared?”

  “I was in the bathroom.”

  “Why?”

  King arched an eyebrow at Jack. “I had to take a piss.”

  “Why at that exact moment?”

  Other than the fact he had to go? Jack’s line of questioning was odd, but if he knew Jack, there was a good explanation for it, so he went along with it. “I don’t know. Leo started playing this spa music with a trickling stream or something, and suddenly I had to go.”

  Jack played the footage from the cameras downstairs. “There he is walking out of the apartment.” He pressed a key, and the camera changed to Ace, who was out on the small balcony.

  “What were you doing out there?” King asked. How could Ace not have seen Leo?

  “I heard a noise come from there. Like a hard thump, so I went to investigate.”

  “Wait, what is that?” King asked, pointing to something black on the floor under the dining room table. “It looks like a… handball. Leo had one of those back at the bunker.”

  “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there before,” Ace muttered.

  Jack reviewed the footage of Leo coming down the stairs, rounding the wall, and heading out the door while Ace investigated the noise he’d heard at the balcony. Rewinding, Jack gasped. “Holy shit, that’s it. Why the hell hadn’t I seen it before? The guy really is a genius.”

  “What?” King frowned at the screen. “What did you see?”

  Jack tapped away at the screen, bringing up two simultaneous feeds. “You were right, King. They’re not coincidences. Whether Leo realizes it or not, he’s creating the circumstances for him to make a clean getaway. He found a way to distract you, get you out of his way. This time he played the music that made you feel like you had to piss, and as soon as you were in the bathroom, my guess is he lobbed this ball down the stairs, his brain easily calculating the numbers, how hard and where the ball had to hit the wall to make it down the stairs and hit the balcony door, which had Ace getting up to investigate. Ace opened the doors and leaned out, and Leo walked right out the front door. Ten bucks says any footage we see from Bowers has similar instances happening, and if we go out there, ten bucks says we’ll find more of these little black balls. It’s like Mouse Trap!”