Three the Hard Way by Sydney Croft

did their owner, revealing the outline of something definitely not human. Motherfucking bear. Better than Itor though, so he wasn’t about to complain. Besides, in his experience, humans were far more dangerous than any wild animal.
    Setting down the remote, he turned away from the monitors and headed back to the bedroom, where Ian had cleaned up Justice’s wound and laid out the suture supplies.
    “How do you know all this shit?”
    Ian threaded the needle. “Went through a phase where I thought I’d make a good doctor. Went to a private combat medical school to see. Turned out that I hate the normal day job thing.”
    The daily grind was what Tag liked . Maybe tending bar wasn’t his dream job, but seducing or killing people for a living wasn’t up his alley, either.
    “So you decided to become a mercenary? Are you wanted by agencies and governments, like Justice said?”
    Ian gestured to a package of sterile gauze. “Toss that to me. And yes, it’s true. Mostly. Funny thing, being a mercenary with special powers. Specials affiliated with agencies like ACRO and Itor don’t get fucked with by governments. Officials don’t want the general public to know too much, you know? Agencies handle shit internally and deal with each other the way mobsters deal with other mobsters. But us mercs? We make more money and have more freedom, but we don’t have pimps to watch our backs. So everyone fucks with us.”
    Tag had a feeling the pimp reference was intentional, Ian playing offense before Tag could make the obvious Seducer/prostitute connection.
    “So you don’t belong to Itor? You . . . hire out your . . .” Body? Services? Fuck, the idea that Ian sold himself like that left Tag both angry and sad.
    “Yeah,” Ian said roughly. “I do specialty jobs for money. Itor wasn’t my first choice of employer, but once they have their claws in you, it’s hard to say no. Hell, it can be fatal to say no.”
    Tag swallowed as a sickening thought popped into his head. “When we were together—”
    “No.” Ian looked away from tending Justice’s wound to peg Tag with serious eyes. “From the first time I kissed you until the day . . .”
    “The day Itor took me,” Tag finished, not sounding nearly as bitter as he thought he would.
    Ian nodded. “I didn’t fuck anyone else while we were together, Tag. I was supposed to, a side job in Orlando, but I couldn’t.”
    Tag wanted to say something that would make him a real bastard, something along the lines of, Gee, you didn’t have a problem selling me to Itor, but you had an issue cheating on me , but the man was helping Justice, something he didn’t have to do.
    “What about after?” Tag asked, because there was still a little bastard in him. And a whole lot of petty. “How soon did you take another job after I was gone?”
    “What, you want to know if the next day I was banging some senator for information?” Ian turned back to what he was doing. “Do you really want to torture yourself this way?”
    “You can’t do anything Itor didn’t already do.”
    Ian winced. “Oh, I doubt that,” he said quietly.
    Yeah, Tag doubted it too. Maybe it was time to change the subject.
    “Is Itor really after you, Ian?”
    He exhaled a long, slow breath. “Once they learn that the chip is disabled and that I used their resources to find you instead of turn you in, yeah, they’ll be after me.”
    Tag’s gut rolled. Ian had put himself in danger for Tag. Yes, it was Ian’s fault that Tag was in this position in the first place, but he’d just put his life on the line to get Tag out of it.
    Shit like that went a long way toward making amends . . . as proven by the fact that Tag had nearly gotten down and dirty with Ian in the shed.
    It would have been a mistake, just like what had happened between him and Justice earlier.
    “Could you go to ACRO?” Tag asked, his brain desperately seeking a way to keep Ian out of Itor’s clutches.
    Ian snorted. “Do you really think