Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

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 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