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 f**k. 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 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.