by Abigail Roux
Ty reached out and slammed something onto the table. When he moved his hand, Zane’s one year sobriety chip remained.
Zane stared at it, then transferred his glare to Ty. “You think I need that?”
Ty shrugged, looking pointedly at the glass.
“I really am that weak to you, aren’t I?
Ty’s eyes were steady and dark as they stared at each other, neither man flinching. “You’re not weak, Zane,” Ty said. “But we all need help sometimes.”
“And now you need my help, right? To deal with this Liam Bell guy, this guy from your past you were never going to tell me about. It’s okay to lie to me, keep things from me, but when you need a spare gun, oh, go pick Zane up at the bar.”
“Don’t sulk, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Fuck you, Ty.”
Ty snorted and finally looked away. “Will you come back with me? Help us figure this shit out?”
“You’re not on the first plane home anymore?” Ty shook his head. “You’re going to make a stand here?”
“Here we’re all together. We know where he is. He’s lost the element of surprise and we have the stronger force.”
Zane nodded. “Fine.”
Ty gave a curt nod and pushed his chair back to stand.
“On one condition,” Zane added.
Ty sat back, resigned.
“Tell me everything. You’re hiding something, something big, and I want to know what it is. And if you tell me it’s classified, I will smash this glass into your face. And then I’ll be on the first plane home.”
Ty remained motionless, not even blinking. Zane had to fight to meet his stare. He rarely saw Ty so still. The last time had been in a blizzard, when Ty had denied ever being in Paris when he damn well had been.
It was Ty’s only tell. He stopped moving when he lied.
“You’re really going to force this out of me?” Ty snarled after a few more seconds.
Zane gave a single nod.
Ty sat forward, staring at the tabletop. He took a long, deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered, losing the hard edge to his voice. He looked up at Zane, his eyes dark in the low light. His nerves must’ve been contagious, because Zane’s stomach was churning. “After the Tri-State case, after you were pulled from Miami, Richard Burns assigned me as your partner so I could protect you.”
Zane narrowed his eyes. “What?”
Ty rolled his shoulders, pulling one hand below the table. Zane knew he was rubbing his palm across his thigh to dispel the urge to fidget, but he also knew Ty had a gun under there, and Ty’s hand always hovered near his gun when he was scared.
“The Vega cartel,” Ty said.
Zane straightened. “How did you know I was under with them? Have you read my file?”
“No. It was given to me as part of my briefing, but I didn’t read it.”
“Your briefing. What are you talking about?”
“Zane . . . for the last year and a half, you have been my assignment.”
The world seemed to slow around them. Sounds faded. The pangs in Zane’s chest were the labored beating of his heart as he tried to absorb what Ty was telling him.
“You’re . . . you’re, what, on guard duty? You’re my personal protection detail, complete with free blowjobs?”
“Stop it,” Ty snarled. “The Vega cartel found out they had a UC working within them. You got pulled before they could get to you. They’ve had feelers out all over the agency ever since. They know what you looked like. If they found out your identity or location, they’d come for you, and they’d come hard. Almost every time Burns has called me for a job, it’s been to head them off.”
“Oh my God,” Zane gasped. “You’re the one who’s been wreaking havoc in Miami.”
Ty lifted his head, his expression guarded.
Zane couldn’t breathe. “I’ve been following the reports. Someone’s taking out Vega people left and right, no one knows who it is or why. Even the Bureau is after this guy. But it’s you.”
“Yeah,” Ty whispered.
“Jesus.”
Zane tried to get a handle on that, the image of Ty sneaking off to Miami, hunting people down, terrorizing the lower rungs of the cartel, leaving mangled bodies behind, forcing men on their knees and putting bullets in their heads to leave dread and suspicion in his wake. The man Zane crawled into bed with every night, the man who held him, the man he talked down from nightmares, was the same man doing that.
“Don’t look at me like that, Zane,” Ty begged.
Zane struggled to reconcile it with the man he knew. “You’re saying you’ve done all that to cover my ass.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why Burns let you run off to Texas so fast, wasn’t it? He thought it was related.”
Ty nodded.
Zane gaped. “You . . . I’ve been your mark.”
“No, Zane.”
Zane brought his hand to his mouth because he couldn’t seem to force it to close on his own. His fingers trembled against his face.
“Zane,” Ty said harshly.
“Has this all been some sort of long con?” he choked out. “An easy way to get close to me and watch me?”
“You know that’s not true! Will you let me explain without getting dramatic?”
“Dramatic? You’re telling me everything our relationship is based on came out of some assignment briefing, and I’m being dramatic?”
Ty raised a hand to calm him, which only served to make Zane angrier. Ty had no right to try to calm him now.
“You’ve had damn near two years to explain, Ty! But you didn’t say a fucking word, just kept on like it wouldn’t destroy us when that came out.”
“I couldn’t tell you!”
Zane banged his fist on the table. Whiskey sloshed across the scarred top. “Bullshit! Why the hell would Dick make you protect me from something and not tell me I was in danger? It makes no sense!”
Ty flinched and lowered his head, then brought both hands up and placed them on the table, twining his fingers. Zane had seen him do it plenty of times when he was nervous. But Zane didn’t care that Ty was nervous right now. He wanted him nervous. He wanted the bastard squirming in his seat because Zane’s world had suddenly fallen away to reveal nothing but a glass floor beneath him.
When Ty spoke, his voice was quiet, but Zane could hear the tremor in it. “I couldn’t tell you because my second objective was to make sure you hadn’t been turned.” He looked up to meet Zane’s eyes.
The implications stole Zane’s breath, making him light-headed. Burns had put Ty on him to make sure he hadn’t become a cartel mole, to make sure he hadn’t betrayed the agency. All those years, Richard Burns had suspected him of being a traitor, of working for the very cartel he’d almost killed himself to bring down. The man he’d thought had battled for his career, who’d saved him and shoved him through rehab to get him clean, had merely been waiting for him to prove himself the enemy. And the instrument of that betrayal was the only man in the world Zane had ever trusted implicitly. Ty.
The anger and pain were so sharp and sudden that Zane brought a hand to his chest to combat the tightness.
“Zane,” Ty whispered.
Zane swallowed past the knot in his throat and met Ty’s eyes again. It was hard to breathe. “You thought I was a traitor?”
Ty shook his head and reached across the table for Zane’s hand. “I know you, Zane, I know what you are.”
Zane pushed his hand away and stood. “Then why the hell would you let it go on? He would listen to you if you told him!”
Ty stood with him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. Zane swatted it away, balling his fist. Ty put up both hands to calm him. “It was the only way to—”
“Bullshit!”
Heads began to turn, people staring at them, but Zane didn’t give a fuck. Ty glanced over his shoulder. “Can we please sit down?” he asked. The tone of voice was the same one Ty used when he was trying to coerce someone int
o being calm. Zane had always found it amusing and oddly comforting. Now, he recognized it as just another of the many ways Ty could manipulate and hurt someone. He’d used that voice to smooth over too many lies, too many half-truths, and too many indiscretions.
Zane took a shaky breath and sat on the edge of his seat, willing to listen but also ready to bolt if the pain in his chest grew any sharper. Ty sat with him, maintaining eye contact. He scooted his chair closer so their knees were touching, and leaned on his elbows so he was as close to Zane as possible. Zane’s heart sped up, and he fought not to reach out and touch Ty’s face.
Ty cleared his throat, struggling to start. “I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t tell Burns you were clean.”
Zane gritted his teeth and gripped the edge of the table.
Ty spoke faster. “As soon as he knew, he could have reassigned me. He might have moved me on to the next job, and I wasn’t ready to risk that. What we have, Zane, it is the best thing in my life. And I know you feel that way too, because we both fought hard for it.”
“I fought hard for you, Ty. I loved you, how could you keep this from me?”
Ty put a hand over his mouth. His fingers were trembling, but he grabbed Zane’s hand, holding it hard. Zane tried to yank it away, but Ty held on. “Because I knew it would hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want you to ever know Dick questioned your loyalty. I was hoping to wait it out, hoping I could hand in my final report when you retired and be done with it.”
Zane shook his head. He’d never realized it was possible for a heart to break for so many reasons at the same time. “You didn’t want to hurt me? Well you failed that mission miserably. That’s really the only thing you care about, right? Mission accomplished?”
Ty’s grip tightened and he lowered his head. He was holding onto Zane as if he’d fall if he let go. Zane recalled the last time they’d both fallen; Ty’d begged him to trust him, and then thrown him off a building. Literally. And Zane had trusted him, with his life, with his happiness, and finally with his heart.
During all that, though, Ty hadn’t trusted Zane with one simple secret.
Their entire time together flashed through his mind as the pressure in his chest grew. He ran his thumb over Ty’s finger, trying to understand Ty’s reasoning, desperately trying to believe him.
Ty’s eyes were drawn to the movement, to the finger that would wear a ring if their plans went the way Zane wanted them to. “Nothing about us was a lie,” Ty whispered brokenly.
Zane had heard that before. Nothing else was a lie, Zane. Except all of it had been a lie. “Fool me once, Ty, shame on you.”
Ty raised his head, his eyes pleading.
“Fool me twice . . .” Zane shook his head. He let go of Ty’s hand.
“Zane, please.”
Zane shut his eyes as he stood. “I need some time, okay? I just need . . . I need to think.”
“You shouldn’t go anywhere alone.”
Zane turned and kicked the closest empty chair, sending it clattering to the floor. “I’ve always been alone!” he shouted.
He stalked away before Ty could say anything more. Zane knew how good Ty was with words, how easily he could manipulate someone into doing what he wanted. He knew Ty’s weapons, and he would be damned if he let himself be susceptible to any of them now.
Ty called his name as Zane walked away, but Zane knew that if he turned around, he’d be lost in Ty’s labyrinth again. He deserved to be angry. He deserved to be hurt. He wouldn’t give Ty a chance to slither his way out of a betrayal like this until he’d had time to think. He desperately needed to think.
He made it all the way out the door and around the corner before he leaned against the brick façade of the building and took a deep, shaky breath.
“Just walk away,” he whispered. He couldn’t turn around. His resolve would crumble.
But how could he walk away? He’d never seen Ty’s fingers tremble like that. He’d never heard Ty plead with anyone like that. Perhaps if he looked back, he’d be able to hold onto the anger long enough to keep a clear head.
When he craned his head to look through the window, Ty was still sitting where he’d left him, the toppled chair next to him, his head bowed, his hand covering his mouth.
“That looked rough,” a man said at Zane’s shoulder.
Zane glanced at him, not really seeing him. He nodded, and looked through the window again. His heart was breaking and the only person he could think to go to for comfort was still sitting at that goddamned table. “I, uh, I need to go back in there,” he stuttered, taking a step past the man.
The muzzle of a gun shoved into his side stopped him in his tracks.
“Not so fast, love. We have some catching up to do,” Liam Bell purred against Zane’s ear.
Pain blossomed at Zane’s temple, and the lights flickered out.
Ty had his phone to his ear, calling Zane’s number for the tenth time as he stepped out of the elevator. It clicked over to voice mail again, and Ty left another message. He was sounding more and more pissed and panicked with each one, but he didn’t care.
It took him three tries to get his key card to work, and he shoved his shoulder into the door to push it open.
When he stalked into the room, Nick was perched on the end of the bed. Kelly and Digger were sitting opposite him, all of them looking grim.
“No Zane?” Nick asked.
Ty shook his head, fighting past the wave of nausea, grief, and panic. “No Owen?” He asked in return, surprised when his voice cracked.
“He left the hotel,” Kelly explained. “He’ll come back, no need to track him down.”
“Yeah, unless Bell gets to him first,” Digger muttered.
Nick rolled his eyes. “Okay, this isn’t some horror movie. He’s not going to pick us off one by one when we venture out.”
“I don’t know, Irish,” Digger said. “I remember Liam being pretty gleeful about hunting people down.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not after all of you,” Ty said. “He wants me to suffer.”
Nick lifted his head. “Killing off the people you love is the way I’d go.”
“Dude, you’re getting creepier since you came out,” Kelly muttered. Nick winked at him.
“And if Bell’s not behind the gris-gris, who is?” Digger added.
Ty ran his hand through his hair. He dialed Zane’s number again.
“Who are you calling?” Kelly asked.
“Zane. I can’t reach him.”
“Man down,” Digger whispered.
“Shut up,” Nick hissed. He looked at Ty, frowning deeply. “Would he really disappear on you knowing what’s going down? That doesn’t seem like Garrett’s style.”
“It’s not,” Ty said as he listened to Zane’s voice mail message again. He ended the call and stuffed the phone into his pocket, staring at the floor as waves of prickling cold hit him. “He’s got him.”
“You can’t know that,” Nick tried.
Ty shook his head. “He’s got him, Nick.” He looked around his feet, searching for the crumpled piece of paper he’d found in Zane’s pocket.
“What are you doing?” Nick asked.
“Where’s the paper?”
“I put it on the counter in the bathroom.”
Ty stalked into the bathroom and grabbed it off the vanity. There was a phone number with the name. He dug his phone back out and dialed it, forcing his fingers to work.
After two rings a recording answered, a voice that had haunted his dreams for years.
“Wait your turn,” it said.
Ty gritted his teeth and forced himself not to leave a message that would have come out seething and incoherent and panicked. Instead he ended the call and stared at the phone, his world reeling. He had to think clearly, he had to get to Zane and do it now.
He slammed the paper back onto the counter and fought hard not to toss his phone. He hung his head, taking deep, calming gulps of air. His breath slid the scrap o
f paper across the marble, and Ty looked closer at it. Now he saw more on the scrap of paper. Streaks of yellowish stains.
“Irish!” he called. Nick appeared in the doorway. Ty picked up the paper, glancing up at the glaring vanity lights overhead. “Did something spill on it?”
“Not that I know of,” Nick said. He peered over Ty’s shoulder, then up at the hot light bulbs. “What’s it smell like?”
Ty sniffed the paper. “Citrus. Lemon maybe.”
Nick stepped closer and grabbed the hairdryer off its dock on the side wall. Ty flattened the paper out and Nick turned the hairdryer on the paper. The yellow streaks began to form words.
“Ugh, I knew I hated him when we were stationed together,” Nick grumbled. The words became clearer as the heat brought out the acid in the lemon juice. “He probably sat in a bar somewhere and used the damn lemon from his water. I hate him!”
Ty just shook his head, heart hammering as the words became clear. Liam Bell had slipped this piece of paper into Zane’s pocket, knowing it would make its way to Ty, believing Ty would keep a level enough head to find the message written here.
Liam was already outthinking him and Ty was already relying on luck.
2 AM. Jackson Square. Be there or your partner dies.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Ty growled.
Nick put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Easy, Ty.”
Ty slammed his hand against the paper. “I’ll kill him!”
He turned, but Nick grabbed him by both shoulders, holding him there and forcing Ty to meet his eyes. “Think, okay? Breathe.”
Ty lowered his head like a bull preparing to charge, but Nick faced him down, waiting for him to calm himself. Ty took a deep breath and nodded.
“Okay,” Nick whispered. He released Ty.
Nick’s phone began to ring from his back pocket, breaking the spell. Ty was shaking when Nick pulled the phone out and turned away from him. He glanced up, trying to stay calm, trying not to think of the things that could happen to Zane between now and 2 AM.
Nick cursed as he checked the caller ID, walking away. “Good afternoon, Detective,” he answered with a wince. He turned to Ty. “Of course, any way we can help. When would you like us to come in?” His eyes widened and he waved at Ty. “You’re coming to the hotel?”
