Touch&Geaux (19 page)

“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.”

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“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?”

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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, bal ing 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 into

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

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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.

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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.

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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, cal ing 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.

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“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 cal ing?” 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.

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“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 of 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 wal . 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

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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!”