Zane looked from him to Nick and back, a grin spreading across his lips. Then he shook his head. “No,” he answered, laughing.

Ty huffed and fought not to smile.

Nick walked past them, shaking his head. “Damn, son.”

“That’s cold,” Kelly added before they were gone.

Ty and Zane both watched them go, then turned back to each other, both of them smiling. Ty pulled Zane to him and kissed him, holding him by a handful of his hair so he couldn’t get away. “I’ll get you eventually, my pretty,” he whispered.

“And I look forward to it,” Zane mumbled against his lips.

Chapter 15

Ty, Nick, and Kelly were still in their dress blues. Zane had loosened his tie and removed his suit coat because he refused to be in a funeral suit longer than he had to be. They’d retreated from the graveyard and taken up residence in a local tavern, one Ty had apparently frequented when he’d been based in Washington, DC.

Zane was drinking Coke. Ty had ordered a scotch to toast Richard Burns, but after that he’d stuck to Dr Pepper. Zane had caught a glance between Ty and Nick that spoke clearly to the fact that Nick had read Ty the riot act at some point about drinking in Zane’s presence.

Nick and Kelly were drinking water. Zane didn’t know whether to be grateful to them or to be pleased that these men, men who reportedly had always been hard-drinking, hard-partying hooligans, would refrain for him.

Either way, he’d given them each a nod in recognition of what they were doing.

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“I can’t believe all this shit circles back to me,” Zane said, staring at the tabletop.

“If you pull one of those ‘everyone I love dies, let me disappear’ moves on me, I’ll hunt you down,” Ty told him.

Zane laughed sadly. “Noted.”

“This is the mole,” Ty told him, almost growling. “He knew Burns was closing in on him. He’s the only one could have known enough information to feed to de la Vega and pull this shit off.”

“This the same mole who made the mess in New Orleans?” Kelly asked.

Zane nodded, still staring. “This isn’t going to end until the cartel is gone. Or I am.”

The table fell silent, and the sounds of the noisy tavern began to fade until Zane was sitting in the silence of his own head, staring at the wood grain of the table.

“So this de la Vega guy,” Nick finally said. Zane raised his head, blinking away the deep reverie he’d been lost in. Nick was lounging in the corner of their booth, his arm around Kelly’s shoulder, his other hand on the table like he was accustomed to sitting with people he didn’t hide his hands from. He tapped his fingers and met Zane’s eyes. “How do we take him out?”

Zane smiled. “That’ll just have to wait until after your little surgery, now won’t it?”

Nick rolled his eyes and took a sip of water. He was donating his liver to a father who had terrorized him all his life. He was a better person than Zane, that was for sure. Zane would’ve sat back and watched the man die.

“We’ll investigate from our end,” Ty said, sounding determined and a little scary. Zane liked it. “To get to de la Vega, we have to get to the mole. That’s our first move.”

They all nodded, glancing around at each other.

“Does that mean you’re coming back to the FBI?” Zane asked Ty.

Ty shook his head. “We both know I can’t. I think what you call me now would be the Wild Card.”

Zane met his lover’s eyes, thrilled to see the life back in them. Whatever had happened to Ty and Sidewinder out there, it had sapped the joy out of all of them, taken the very thing that made them capable of walking through Hell and doused it. But now, looking at these three men, with a purpose given to them once more, with a mission, Zane could see that fire returning.

De la Vega had poked the wrong hornet’s nest this time.

Nick fought to open his eyes when he heard voices. He finally managed to make his head fall to the side and peered through his eyelashes to see who was in the room. The motion must have drawn attention, because the voices stopped and the room fell silent.

Nick closed his eyes again.

A moment later a cool hand was on his forehead. “Nick?” the voice whispered. “Wake up, babe.” When Nick finally got both eyes open, Kelly was smiling down at him. He grazed his fingers along Nick’s cheek and bent to whisper in his ear. “Lots of people here to see you.”

A separator curtain screeched as it was pulled across the room to give them a little more privacy. He was still groggy as hell, and it took him a long time to focus, and an even longer time to understand what was going on. He’d given a piece of his liver, one he’d managed to keep healthy by some miracle, to his father. It hadn’t even really been a choice for him. As soon as the tests came back saying he was a good match, he knew he had to do it.

His father would live on, whether he deserved to or not. Nick’s conscience was clear, and the missing piece of his liver would eventually grow back. He hoped.

Almost a dozen people were crowded around, all holding some form of “special delivery” baby presents.

He started to laugh but had to stop when pain threatened. “Assholes.”

Ty and Zane were both there, as were Owen and Digger. Nick had known they would be, though, because they’d flown in last night to be with him before the operation. Digger stood at the foot of the bed, and Owen was sitting in the corner holding a huge teddy bear that hid most of his body. When he realized Nick was awake, he stood and placed the bear in the chair to move closer.

“How you feeling, O?” Digger asked.

“Like less of a man,” Nick said, drawing laughs from the others.

“You look it,” Digger told him, and held up a jar filled with liquid and some sort of . . . stuff.

Ty quickly grabbed the jar and hid it from sight. “Dude, no.”

“Gator livers!”

“No.”

“They’ll help his grow back faster!”

“Definitely no.”

Nick groaned and tossed his head to the side, trying to purge that visual from his mind before that visual purged his stomach.

“So gross,” Ty muttered, and he left the room with the jar under his arm.

The rest of them were still laughing when Ty returned, and Nick finally managed to look back to the foot of the bed without feeling the need to throw up.

Kat and Erin were standing there, both of them with bouquets filled out with baby’s breath, little pink daisies, and balloons. They giggled as they placed the dainty arrangements on the table near the wall. Even Nick’s oldest nephew, Patrick, had come with them. He was snickering gleefully when he handed Nick a card that everyone had signed. It read, “Congratulations on your special delivery.”




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