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Never Say Never
Sniper 1 Security, #2
Nicole Edwards
Gay romance
M/M interaction
Release Date: August 18, 2015
Ryan Trexler has devoted his entire life to his family’s security business. And now that he’s slated to take over the reins for the company, RT knows that his life is only going to get more complicated. Add in the fact that he’s lusting over one of the men who works for him and RT knows that there are some serious tough times ahead.
Zachariah Tavoularis—nicknamed Z—has been employed by Sniper 1 Security for a decade. Despite being known as the most loyal enforcer outside of family, Z also has a reputation of being quite the playboy, though that was based more on rumor than fact. When an assignment comes up that forces the two of them to work together, Z knows it’s time to show RT he’s not the man he thinks he is.
Can they complete the mission, despite the fact that it puts them in a tenuous situation, bringing them closer than either of them ever expected? And will Z allow RT to convince him that they can never be together, no matter how much they both want it?
Prologue
Three years ago
“What the hell were you thinking?” Ryan yelled, unable to contain the anger that surged through him as he stared back at the man who was responsible for getting two of Ryan’s enforcers killed in recent days.
Kevin’s answering stare was blank, lacking any emotion whatsoever.
“You blew their cover and damn near got Trace and Z killed! Why the fuck would you do that?”
Still no answer.
Ryan thrust his hands through his hair, tugging hard on the shaggy blond strands as he turned on his heel and paced away from Kevin, hoping to keep from wrapping his fingers around the man’s throat and…squeezing.
How could someone be so fucking reckless? So careless? So goddamn stupid?
It was almost as though Kevin didn’t give a shit that he’d fucked up so epically. That was one of the main reasons Ryan had held off on having this conversation until today—four days after the shit had hit the fan.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t put it off any longer or he’d likely do just that.
“Are we done here?” Kevin asked, his tone hard.
Ryan turned to look at him, stunned by how uncouth the man was being. “No, we’re not fucking done here, Kevin. Were you not thinking? Did you not consider what the hell you were doing? The lives you were putting in jeopardy?”
When Kevin didn’t respond, Ryan had to hold back the frustrated groan that wanted to break free. Not sure what to say or do, Ryan walked behind his desk, but he didn’t sit down. He couldn’t. There was too much anger built up, too many emotions tearing him in a million different directions. Disappointment, fear, frustration. Incredulity. A fucking ton of incredulity.
“Look,” Kevin began. “I’ve got shit to do. So if you’re done ripping me a new one, we can talk about this at home later.”
Ryan stared back at the man standing before him, a man Ryan no longer recognized although they’d been dating for the better part of three years. He’d met Kevin in this very same building nearly five years ago when Kevin had come to work for Sniper 1 Security.
“No, we won’t,” Ryan countered hotly. “I… Fuck! I don’t even know what the hell to say to you right now.”
“Don’t say anything,” Kevin told him, a hint of concern echoing in the words. “Let’s talk when you calm down.”
“That’s the thing, Kevin. You don’t fucking get it. I won’t calm down. You almost got two people killed.”
Kevin’s usually pale skin heated, his cheeks turning crimson. “I did what I thought was best. Are you sure you’re not just pissed because it was Trace and Z?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Ryan squared his shoulders and faced off with Kevin. “It wouldn’t’ve mattered who the hell it was.”
“Are you sure about that?” Kevin snapped, his green eyes glittering with menace. “I’ve seen the way you look at Z. You’ve got a hard-on for the guy. Even I can see that.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.” Ryan knew this conversation was going nowhere, but leave it to Kevin to turn it around on him. For the three years they’d been dating, Kevin had grown more and more insecure with every passing day. He was jealous, so much so that Ryan had heard a few offhanded comments from others recently. It was clear that Kevin had allowed emotion to interfere with his ability to do his job and he could no longer be objective. That or… Holy fuck. “Did you do this on purpose?” Ryan took a step closer. “Did you fucking blow their cover because you’re jealous?”
“What? No!” Kevin’s gaze dropped to the floor, a clear sign of guilt.
“Christ. I can’t believe I didn’t see this before.” Ryan paced away from Kevin, fury causing his hands to shake. He suddenly didn’t want to be in the same room with him.
“See what?” Kevin retorted, his voice louder this time. “You can’t see a goddamn thing, RT. You’re too busy worrying about your precious career, your stupid job, this stupid company. You don’t give a shit about me at all, do you?”
Ryan stared at Kevin in disbelief. Three years. Three fucking years he’d given to this man, trying his best to make it work despite their differences, despite Kevin’s jealousy, his anger, his short fuse. “This is my company, Kevin! Those people”—Ryan stabbed his finger toward the door—“are my employees. I owe it to them to be worried about their safety.”
“Them? What about me?” Kevin yelled. “Aren’t you the slightest bit worried about me?”
“Of course I am.” Ryan couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. It was one they’d gone round and round about many times before. Kevin would never be satisfied with the fact that Ryan had to worry about someone other than him.
They continued to stare at one another, and during those interminably long seconds, Ryan felt his world crumbling around him. Not that he hadn’t been anticipating it. For the last few months, he’d been trying to find a way to break things off with Kevin. He’d given the relationship everything he had. But now he no longer had anything left to give.
Kevin’s face fell, his anger seeming to subside. “We can talk about this later tonight.”
“No, Kevin, we can’t,” Ryan told him. “There’s nothing more to discuss. I’m meeting with Bryce and Casper again this afternoon after I talk to Z. They’ll be making the decisions going forward.”
“What does that mean? Decisions? Are you firing me?”
Ryan didn’t answer. He wouldn’t know until he spoke to Bryce and Casper in a couple of hours, but yeah, if they gave him the choice, Ryan would be cutting Kevin loose today. From his job. From Ryan’s life. He couldn’t stand to look at Kevin anymore. The man standing before him damn sure wasn’t the same one Ryan had fallen in love with so long ago.
“You don’t need to do anything rash,” Kevin stated, a hint of concern enhancing the words. “Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
“To me?” Ryan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This isn’t about me.”
“It never is, is it?” Kevin countered hotly. “I’m the one who’s at fault. Always me. You can’t even accept responsibility for the arguing, the fighting, the…alienation.”
“What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. About?” Ryan couldn’t hold back any longer. He was being buried under the emotional overload, anger resonating, churning into something much more potent.
“I know you’ve been pushing me away, RT. That’s what you do. You push everyone away. And yes! Maybe that’s why I did it. I’m sick and fucking tired of you paying attention to everyone else. Maybe I need some attention. Did you ever think of that?”
Ryan stared at Kevin, shock and horror coalescing as his worst fears were realized. If he hadn’t misunderstood—and he really didn’t think
he had—Kevin had just admitted to setting Trace and Z up.
It must’ve registered with Kevin what he’d said, because his eyes widened. “I didn’t mean that,” Kevin backtracked. “It wasn’t my fault. I swear to you it wasn’t my fault. Look, it won’t happen again. We can work this out, RT.”
No, they couldn’t, but Ryan couldn’t even say that much. He merely pointed toward the door.
“Don’t kick me out, RT. Don’t make me go. You owe it to us to listen, to be on my side.”
Ryan swallowed hard, studying Kevin’s face. He’d given the last few years of his life to this man, and it had all come down to this. “There is no more us,” he told Kevin as gently as he could, which honestly wasn’t much. He wished they’d been able to keep this topic separate from the discussion at hand, but it was inevitable. As it was, Ryan had managed to keep his distance from Kevin, speaking to him only in the office or on the phone, but it hadn’t been easy.
“No. Hold up. You don’t mean that,” Kevin sputtered.
“I do. It’s been over for a long time. This was just the last straw.”
“RT, please. Don’t—”
Raising his voice to be heard over Kevin’s continued tirade, Ryan said, “We’re done here. Now get out of my face.”
For the first time since the incident on Monday, Kevin appeared almost apologetic, but Ryan knew better. Not once during any of the conversations he’d had with Kevin had he ever said he was sorry—fault or not. And he never would. It wasn’t like Kevin to accept responsibility for his own actions.
Kevin turned toward the door, and Ryan was grateful.
Unfortunately, his hope that Kevin would walk away disappeared when, with his hand hovering over the knob, he turned back. Ryan’s stomach churned, anger and hurt merging into a potent mixture of hatred and disgust.
“I’ll give you some time to cool off. We can talk at home later. I’ll stop by.”
“Don’t bother,” Ryan answered. “I don’t have anything more to say to you.”
“RT. Come on, you can’t be ser—”
“Get outta my face.” Dropping into his chair, Ryan glared up at Kevin. “Go!”
When the door closed behind Kevin, Ryan sighed, dropping his head into his hands. How had things gone so horribly wrong?
He had to go talk to Bryce and Casper, figure out what their next steps were. As much as he wished it didn’t have to come to this, he knew that firing Kevin was the only way this could play out.
And in order to get on with his life, the final decision couldn’t come soon enough.
Zachariah Tavoularis had no idea why he had been called into the office on a Friday afternoon, but here he was, trying to smile as he limped through the nearly empty space toward the offices in the back. After the week he’d had, Z wanted nothing more than to put his feet up, relax, maybe have a beer or two. Specifically, he wanted to give his right foot a rest since he was pretty damn sure he’d broken his big toe in the skirmish that had ensued just four days ago.
Damn. Had it only been four days? It seemed like a hell of a lot longer than that.
After the fiasco that had nearly cost him his life, Z had been treated for the stab wound in his shoulder, but he’d kept his trap shut about his toe. No reason to get everyone more fired up than they already were when there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. When the shit hit the fan around this place, things got messy, and Z didn’t want to add to the strain he could already feel.
Rapping his knuckles on RT’s door, he waited until he was called to come inside.
“You wanted to see me?” Z asked, peeking his head in the door.
RT was sitting at his desk, his brow furrowed, his mouth a hard, thin line. He didn’t look happy at all.
“Yeah. Have a seat,” RT instructed, nodding toward the empty chair across from him.
He suddenly wished he could be anywhere but there. As it was, he’d spent the last four days thinking about the shit that had gone down and the fact that he’d been hung out to dry by one of his own. Having gone deep cover for months inside a drug cartel in order to unearth a missing wealthy businessman, Z and Trace had been lucky to escape alive. Fortunately, they had, but it damn sure hadn’t been easy. Despite being set up to take a fall, Z and Trace had still managed to extract the man they’d been hired to find from the cartel’s clutches.
Barely.
No thanks to that bastard Kevin Fischer.
Not wanting to rehash the incident, because the more he thought about it, the angrier he got, Z attempted to redirect the conversation before RT had a chance to steer it in that direction. “I already gave the details of what happened to Casper,” Z informed RT, trying not to limp too much although his toe was throbbing like a motherfucker. Probably would’ve been best not to stuff his foot into his boot, but riding his motorcycle without it hadn’t been an option.
So here he was, lowering himself into the chair in RT’s office.
“How’re you doin’?” RT asked, his eyes sliding to Z’s shoulder.
“Oh, that?” Z smiled, peering down at his shirt sleeve, which was hiding the white bandage that still covered the three-inch-deep gash in his arm. “Just a scratch.”
Z got caught up in RT’s crystal-blue gaze for a moment, unable to look away. Although his body’s untimely response wasn’t exactly appropriate considering Z worked for RT, he couldn’t help but be attracted to the man. Hell, he’d been harboring what he’d regarded as a slight crush on the guy for the better part of the last five years, maybe longer. Not that it mattered, because once RT had started dating Kevin, Z had done everything in his power not to think about him.
Most of the time it had worked.
Okay, some of the time.
“Are you really okay?” This time RT’s question sounded less business-like and more…personal.
What Z wouldn’t give for RT to care about him. Well, on a level other than employer to employee, that was. There was no doubt that RT cared about all of the enforcers who worked for Sniper 1 Security. He made that abundantly clear.
“I’m great,” Z lied. “Just chillin’, waitin’ for my next assignment.”
“I think you should take a coupla weeks off,” RT said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his thick chest, his biceps bulging from the movement. “Recuperate. Acclimate to the real world once again.”
Z locked his eyes on RT’s face once more. “Nope. Not necessary.” The last thing Z wanted was downtime. He needed something to keep him busy, and his job provided the perfect excuse not to sit around and dwell on all that had happened over the past year. Things were just beginning to stabilize—as best they could, anyhow—and he had no intention of upsetting that precarious balance that had become his life.
“You sure?” RT inquired.
Without hesitating, Z answered with, “Positive. Why? Is that why I’m here?” Z glanced around mainly because looking at RT was making his body hum to life in a way that was definitely inappropriate but couldn’t be helped. “’Cause you coulda done this over the phone, ya know?”
RT shook his head. “I called you in because I wanted to talk about Kevin. I met with him a couple of hours ago.”
Oh, shit. The absolute last person Z wanted to chat with RT about was Kevin. Hell, he’d prefer to talk politics or religion—both subjects he generally considered completely off limits—rather than discuss the fucking douche that RT had hooked up with.
Z had never disliked anyone as much as he disliked Kevin. The guy was a first-rate dickhead who considered himself high and mighty because of the fact he was sleeping with RT. A point Kevin always made sure to relay.
There were a few comments Kevin had made over the years that Z was sure he’d never forget.
Don’t forget who you’re talkin’ to. Remember whose bed I keep warm at night. That makes me practically in charge.
I don’t want to have to tell you that I can call the shots, but I will. If I see you lookin’ at RT like that again, I’
ll make sure he cans your ass. After all, I do pull most of the strings with him.
I’m the one he eats his meals with, the one he’s fucking every night. You’d be wise to remember that.
Yep, first-rate prick.
Rather than share his feelings on the subject, Z steeled his expression, waiting to see what RT had to say.
“We have no choice but to terminate his employment,” RT explained. “I spoke at length with Casper and Bryce a little while ago, and they agree. What Kevin did…?” RT shook his head in disbelief. “It’s unforgivable. We’re just damn lucky no one died.”
There was that. The man their client had hired them to find had been lucky as fuck, and it had cost Z the “scratch” on his arm and a near miss with a few bullets. The wealthy businessman who’d been kidnapped by the cartel had been delivered home to his wife and kids, and for that, Z was grateful.
But Z was pretty sure the failure of the mission—at least on Z’s and Trace’s parts—had been Kevin’s intention in the first place—to get Z and Trace killed so he could swoop in and save the day. The guy had always been volatile, but ever since his relationship with RT had become rocky, Kevin had grown more and more unstable. On more than one occasion, he’d accused Z of wanting to fuck RT. It never mattered what Z said to defuse the situation, Kevin had never believed him.
“I hope you’re not expectin’ my input,” Z stated. He did not want to be part of this. It was up to the big dogs as to what they did to Kevin. Whether they fired him or reprimanded him, that was their choice, not Z’s.
“No, I’m not,” RT assured him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. “I just wanted you to know that I take this seriously. The welfare of my employees is important to me. I can’t sit by and let Kevin get away with this.”
Z couldn’t say he wasn’t happy with that decision. If Kevin had gone so far as to try and get Z and Trace killed because he was jealous, there was no telling what he was capable of.
Shrugging as though it didn’t matter one way or the other, Z got to his feet.
Fearless (Pier 70 Book 2) Page 31
