Lunatic - Necessary Evils #6 - Ch. 4 - Mac (Patreon)

Mac left Archer in the conference room, unable to keep the smile off his face. Archer’s arrival was always a welcome respite from the clusterfuck of his current predicament. That predicament being the giant fucking target on his back. He wasn’t one to run away from his problems, but he didn’t know how to fight an enemy he couldn’t see.

His brother’s hacker friend, Webster, had been doing his best to identify the men in the pictures Mac had accidentally taken, but it was like a needle in a fucking haystack. Maybe Shep was right. Maybe he should involve Thomas and his mother. At least then they’d bring in Calliope. She was the only hacker Mac had ever heard of with a government clearance higher than the president of the United States.

The walk through what was once a military base was always a bit of a head trip, like walking from a dystopian apocalypse into a thriving city. The gymnasium he’d just left was one of the original buildings. In true government fashion, the structure didn’t have an ounce of personality. Just a concrete block without so much as a single window. But if one followed the paved walkway past the bank of solar panels, they’d see the creeping progression from military installation to stately college campus.

They’d razed barracks and hangers down to the foundations, and in their place, they’d built a university that would have made Harvard weep with envy. They’d made lush green grass grow in the desert heat and oak trees that appeared to be thriving. There were aged brick buildings complete with creeping ivy and Latin quotes inscribed over the arched entryways.

It created a bizarre cognitive dissonance. To Mac’s knowledge, the scientific and technological advances necessary to allow a place like this to thrive in the middle of nowhere didn’t exist. It made the entire thing seem…fantastical. Like he’d fallen asleep on the subway and somehow woken up on the train to Hogwarts. The only way to keep himself from going insane was to not think too hard about it.

Mac still didn’t fully understand the scope of this project created by his mother and Thomas. The children they’d placed with prominent members of society had all been sent to “boarding school” at Thomas’s and Molly’s Westchester Academy before being sent on to a non-government-run institution for four years. But not all the children from Westchester had made it. Not all would be accepted for Project Watchtower’s final phase. Which begged the question…

What happened to the rejects?

It was a question nobody seemed eager to answer, and that lack of an answer left Mac unsettled. Deep down, like his brother, Shep, his mother was also two very different people. One, a loving mother who baked cookies and bandaged his wounds, and the other, an impartial doctor willing to see through a project that seemed so at odds with the goals she’d once set for her own child.

Maybe it was because she’d realized that Shep, despite her desperate attempts to stop him, had become a killer anyway. He only killed those who deserved it, but who determined what was a righteous kill and what wasn’t? Apparently, that would fall to Mac and Archer. A job for which neither truly felt qualified.

Thomas said they would be the angel and devil on the Watch’s shoulder. Mac wasn’t sure which of them was which in Thomas’s scenario. When Archer was submitting to him, he hardly seemed like a murderer with hundreds of kills under his belt. If anything, Mac felt like the bad influence. Maybe because that was the role Archer had given him.

He found himself smiling as he entered the staff quarters, following the paneled wooden hallway with its portraits of famous historical figures to his room at the back. He started stripping off his sweaty clothes before the door had even shut behind him, treading naked to the bathroom before wrenching the handle to scalding, then padding to the side table to put his phone on the charger.

He pulled up the picture he’d just snapped of Archer on his knees covered in Mac’s cum. Fuck. He was half-hard just looking at it. Tonight couldn’t get there fast enough. Maybe Archer would hold up his end of the bargain and be good for him. Just once. Part of Mac just wanted to grab dinner and try to crack open the hard candy coating of Archer’s psyche, but the other part knew Archer would fight that more than he did their attraction to one another.

He frowned as he saw he had a missed call from his brother. The reception was spotty out there. He’d clearly called sometime between when he’d left the gym and when he’d reached the staff quarters. He dragged his gaze from Archer’s dirty face, intending to call him back when he saw a text. He clicked it and paused. It was just two words and a photo.

Found one.

Mac frowned at the picture. The man staring back at him looked not at all like any of the three men he’d encountered in the most desolate part of Big Bend. This man had a receding hairline, watery blue eyes, and Chicklet-like teeth that screamed cheap veneers. He wore a gray suit stretched tight at the shoulders. Mac squinted at the photo. Maybe if he added scruff, twenty pounds, and some cheap Bass Pro Shops fatigues.

Fuck.

He jabbed his finger against the phone icon and waited as it connected.

“‘Sup, Mac Daddy,” a low, throaty voice purred from the other end of the line.

Mac chuckled despite himself. His brother-in-law was a strange creature. How Shep—who had less personality than a Star Wars droid—had ended up with life of the party Elijah Dunne was one of life’s greatest unsolved mysteries.

“Hey, Hollywood. Where’s my brother?”

Elijah sighed. “Shower. I wore him out.”

Mac snorted. “I really don’t need to know anymore than I already do about your freaky voyeuristic sex life.”

Elijah scoffed. “We went for a run, you perv. Maybe you’re already thinking too much about our freaky voyeuristic sex life? Hmm?”

Mac shook his head. He could easily lose an hour verbally sparring with Elijah if he didn’t end the conversation now. “Can you just let him know I need to talk to him?”

“About the politician?” Elijah asked, voice rising an octave.

Mac’s brows knitted together. “The what?”

“The guy in the photo. He’s a cop. Judd Dunegan.”

“A cop?” Mac echoed. “How do you know that?”

Elijah scoffed. “I mean, it’s Calliope. She’s got, like, NSA-level facial recognition software. This is your guy. He’s a Texas cop. Well, border patrol.”

Border patrol? What? His brain suddenly snagged on Elijah’s first words.

“Wait. Calliope?” Mac snapped. “What do you mean ‘Calliope’? What happened to Webster?”

There was a long pause as Elijah most likely realized he’d let slip something he shouldn’t. “Listen,” Elijah finally said, his voice animated. “Webster’s amazing at what he does. And he has dimples for days and looks great in a pair of jeans…but, like…he’s no Calliope. Sam made an executive decision and got Calliope involved.”

A heavy feeling of dread settled over him. “Did he tell Mom?” Mac asked.

“Um…”

“Did. He. Tell. Mom?” Mac asked, emphasizing each word.

“No?” Elijah hedged.

Mac blew a breath out through his nose. “No?”

Elijah’s pitch began to climb. “I don’t think he did?”

“Christ. What’s this guy’s name again?”

“Judd Dunegan. Calliope is running down everything she can about him now. Sam just wanted you to know there was some movement on your case. I can have him call you but he’s just going to tell you what I did. Want me to have him call you when Calliope gets back to him?”

Mac grunted his irritation. “Can you just get me Calliope herself?”

“I’ll see if I can make an introduction,” Elijah said, as if Mac was asking to meet a celebrity.

“Yeah, you do that. And tell my brother he’s an asshole while you’re at it.”

Elijah gave a delicate sniff. “I won’t be doing that, but you have a wonderful day.”

Mac snorted. “Oh, you, too.”

He hung up, heading to the bathroom, grimacing when he realized he’d left the water on and it was now frigid cold. Fuck. He grit his teeth and braced himself, stepping into the icy spray and washing quickly. When he finished, he wrapped a towel around his hips, turning off the water only to hear his phone ringing.

He made his way into the bedroom, dropping onto the edge of the bed, sighing when he saw his mother’s face on the screen. That little liar. That’s what Mac got for believing an actor. Of course, his brother had blabbed. For a psychopath he was such a mama’s boy. He was tempted to ignore her but he knew for a fact that would only make things worse. He swiped to answer.

“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” he asked, hoping this was just a well-timed coincidence.

“Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me, Mackenzie Alexander Shepherd. How could you not tell me that someone tried to kill you? What is wrong with you?”

He was going to kill his fucking brother. He loved his mother more than anything in the world, but she was…overprotective of him to say the least.

“I don’t know? If only I had a therapist mother to diagnose me?” Mac teased.

Having a brother with a propensity for obsession and violence lent to a bit of helicoptering on his mother’s part. His father had been bizarrely laid back about…well, all of it.

“You’re not going to charm your way out of this one. Is that why you were suddenly so eager to take me up on this offer to help run the program? You needed a safe place to hide?”

Mac sighed. “I mean, yeah, kind of. But I definitely like what I’m doing. The job has some excellent”—Mac thought of Archer on his knees with his cock in his mouth—“perks.”

Mac could practically hear his mother gnashing her teeth at his cavalier attitude, but she should’ve been used to it by now. His brother was so intense, Mac had been left with no choice but to go with the flow. So, that was what he did. He just floated through life trying not to let anything touch him.

“What exactly did you see?” his mother finally asked, clearly not willing to lose the plot.

Mac shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. “Hardly anything. That’s what’s so weird. I was exploring some of the less accessible parts of Big Bend, snapping pics like I usually do, when I stumbled on three men in cheap camo holding military grade assault weapons. But, even then, I didn’t really think anything of it, ‘cause you know, Texas.”

“And they became immediately aggressive?”

“No. They seemed surprised at first. I was, too. It wasn’t until they spotted my camera that they became…hostile.”

His mother snorted. “Hostile? Three men chasing you through the desert with assault weapons is hostile, Mackenzie?”

Jesus. Was there anything his brother hadn’t blabbed about?

“Can you stop using my whole name, please? You’re freaking me out. And it’s not like it was the first time I’ve been chased through a desert, Mom. By much better shots, I might add. But if the guy is a cop like Calliope says, maybe I stumbled into a sting operation or something?”

“Cops don’t send hitmen after people who stumble into sting operations and they certainly don’t chase them down while shooting at them. Besides, you took the picture to the authorities and they said nothing about any type of operation.”

“Well, they wouldn’t, would they? They also didn’t take a report or give any indication whatsoever that they gave a shit. They told me three men in the desert with guns was hardly a newsworthy event. Cops do protect their own, though.”

“But he’s not a cop. Not really,” his mother said. “Calliope told me he’s the commissioner for border patrol…in Texas.”

Yeah, the commissioner for border patrol was definitely not the same thing as a cop. Not that he expected Elijah to know that. “I don’t know, <om. Maybe they thought I was a smuggler or a coyote?”

“If that was the case, they wouldn’t go to the trouble of tracking you down and sending someone to kill you. They clearly thought you snapped a picture of something or someone they didn’t want you to see. Maybe you need to look at those pictures closely?”

As if he hadn’t already done that. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Please, don’t worry about this. About me. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Oh, I know you will be. I’m not letting this go. Calliope will be at your disposal and Thomas, too. This smacks of something bigger, and I’ll not have my son putting himself in danger because he doesn’t like asking for help. On second thought, send the pics to Calliope.”

When had his life gone so off the rails? He was starting to miss roaming the country with only his camera.

“Mom—” There was a knock on the door. “Mom, I gotta go. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Ginger Snap.”

Mac shook his head at the ridiculous nickname but said nothing. He walked to the door, whipping it open to find Archer standing there slouched against the door frame.

Mac frowned. “What…” He looked at his watch. “I thought we were meeting later tonight, Katniss?” Archer arched a brow. What was Mac even saying? Archer was just the distraction he needed. He tugged him inside, reaching for the knot on his towel. “Not that I’ll ever refuse you on my doorstep. I always have time for you.”

Archer’s hand gripped Mac’s where it rested on the hem of the towel, stopping him. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh. Okay, then. What’s up?” he asked, his disappointment evident.

Mac met his gaze, his brown eyes boring into him. “Why didn’t you tell me somebody was trying to kill you?”

Mac frowned. “What?”

Archer ignored Mac’s feigned ignorance. “The gunshot in the television? That was a hit, wasn’t it? Somebody wants you dead.”

“Nobody wants—” He cut himself off, his brain jumping the track. “Wait, how do you know the bullet in my television was a hit attempt?”

Archer rolled his eyes. “Shep told your mother, your mother told my father, my father then reached out to me to ask why I didn’t tell them any of this as if I was your personal fucking babysitter.”

Mac’s insides twisted at Archer’s casual dismissal of him before internally chastising himself. Archer was a psychopath. They weren’t the warm and fuzzy type, Mac knew that more than anybody. He shook off his hurt, but not his annoyance.

“While I’m always open to roleplay,” Mac said, now cranky. “You’re not—in fact—my fucking babysitter, which is why I didn’t feel the need to involve you in my personal shit. You were quite adamant about keeping whatever this is strictly physical.”

Archer’s hand still lingered over Mac’s. “If someone is trying to kill you, it affects all of us.”

Mac gave a humorless laugh. “How so?”

Archer raked his gaze over Mac in an involuntary motion, like he’d just realized he was mostly naked. Mac instantly started to harden under his scrutiny, Archer’s heated gaze moving over him like a caress. Fuck, he wanted to drag him against him and bury his face against his skin. He’d never thought much about pheromones before Archer, but whatever he was giving off made Mac want to roll in it like fucking catnip.

“Because we’re about to have a hundred plus people living here,” Archer murmured.

As if Archer could read Mac’s thoughts, he leaned back against the doorframe like he wanted to put some distance between them. Still, he didn’t move his hand from Mac’s towel. Fuck, that was distracting.

“Here, being on a top secret military base in the middle of the fucking desert with armed guards posted all over the property?” Mac questioned.

Archer shrugged. “Regardless. My father wants me to help you.”

Irritation spiked in him once more. He leaned in, bracing his free hand over Archer’s head, his voice going low. “But you have been helpful, Katniss. You could win a merit badge for all the help you’ve given me.” He dragged his lips along Archer’s cheekbone. “Feel free to tell your father how you helped me this morning by getting on your knees for me. Or about that time a couple of weeks ago when you helped me by letting me fuck my load into you not once, but twice. Or you could even mention how you were so fucking welcoming when you bent over that cold metal desk when we first toured the facility.”

“Why do you do that?” Archer asked, voice raw.

“Do what?” Mac countered, his lips ghosting over Archer’s.

“Try to distract me with sex?”

Because it’s the only time you want to be near me? But Mac didn’t say that. “What can I say? You make me fucking horny, Katniss. I can barely think when you’re this close to me.”

Archer inhaled sharply, his hands skimming Mac’s bare torso like he couldn’t stop himself. “Look, whatever this is aside, my family is good at this. It’s what we do. Just…let me help you and both our parents will be happy.”

“You can help me by turning around and facing the wall,” Mac murmured, rubbing his lips over Archer’s jaw.

Archer lowered his head enough to catch Mac’s mouth in a kiss, his tongue darting inside before he seemed to remember he didn’t want this. That he didn’t want Mac. The hands on his chest were suddenly pushing him gently away. “Look, neither of our parents are gonna let this go. I’m going to help you. It’s settled. But, right now, I have a…thing I have to do before our afternoon conference with Boone.”

Mac took a step back, scanning Archer’s face, lightning flaring through his insides. “What kind of a thing?” he asked, unable to hide the tension in his tone.

“Are you…are you jealous?” Archer asked, his tone somewhere between amused and annoyed. “It’s a family thing,” he assured him before muttering, “It’s always a family thing.”

That was one thing they definitely had in common. He shook his head. “Fine.”

Archer raised a brow. “Fine, you’ll let me help you?”

Mac rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll let you leave and see you at the conference.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Archer muttered.

“I’d say I’ll try to be more gentle next time, but we both know you don’t want that,” Mac quipped. At Archer’s flat stare, Mac sighed, then asked, “We’re still on for tonight, though. Right?”

Archer gave him a long look, raking his gaze over Mac’s body like he had the night they first hooked up. “Yeah, I’ll be here. But this conversation isn’t over.”

“Whatever you say, Katniss.”