Bound for Keeps (Men of Honor) (19 page)

He never thought he’d hear himself ask for it, but it was the only way he could possibly calm the hell down. His body still strummed with anger, unreasonable but unmoving.

“Are you doing this because you think we won’t keep you any other way?” Reed asked him, and Shane didn’t answer. Because this might be his last time with Keith—with both of them—and he’d be damned if he was going to say anything that might stop it.

“Fuck, he’s stubborn,” Keith grunted, and yes, he was, but he was no match for the angrier Marine at this moment.

He was over Keith’s lap, pants down. He heard Reed’s sharp intake of breath as he watched.

Reed was going to watch. Shane’s brain finally caught up and he tried to move, to take it back, to run, but Keith wasn’t letting him go. A strong hand came down with a slap on his ass, and he yelled—a curse surrounding Keith’s name, renaming him something like
motherfuckingKeith
.

It didn’t stop Keith. In fact, the slaps came faster, harder, in a pattern that might’ve made sense to Keith but made none to Shane, so he was unable to steel himself against the blows since he had no clue where they’d hit or how.

He squirmed, ashamed of how hard he was, realized quickly he was on the brink of coming. And then he realized that no one was stopping him from doing so—from enjoying that—but him. And as soon as he let that go, he let his climax take him over, his body writhing and Keith’s strong hands holding him in place.

As soon as he could see—and breathe in more than just pants—Keith helped him off his lap, and he sank to his knees. He leaned against Keith’s thigh, and Reed came over, got on his knees and embraced him.

“I’m here for you, Shane. I know it hasn’t seemed like it, but I am,” Reed murmured against his cheek. And then he turned Shane’s head and kissed him.

“I’m angry that I let Guthrie run me off.”

“You were reeling from grief. You didn’t want to mix revenge into that, because that would ruin your memories.”

It was so simple when Keith explained it. “How do you know shit like that?”

“I read people.” Now, it was as much a part of him as breathing—it was his life and his job. But growing up, it had equaled survival.

“You’re good at it.”

“I have to be.” An emotion flashed across Keith’s face, one Shane hadn’t remembered seeing before. He put a hand on Keith’s forearm, asked, “You okay?”

“Maybe. Been a long winter. A good winter, and it’s not over yet.” His voice was gruff, and the only thing Shane could think of to do was kiss him, a long, deep kiss until he felt Keith surrender, sink into it.

Chapter Twenty-One

Shane showered, letting the water sluice down his body. He felt satiated and tense all at once, and he knew the time had come to put everything on the table. Keeping it back from Keith and Reed would make things so much worse.

He stared out the window, noting that the snow had tapered off. This was the time to go, to run. To keep running.

And where will that get you?

Besides, he’d finally found home, and he wasn’t giving it up that easily.

He went to them. They were sprawled on the couch together, and Reed looked slightly unsure, like he was wondering if they’d pushed Shane too hard. And that made him feel guiltier than ever.

“Come sit, Shane, sit with us. We’ll talk about this, figure it all out,” Reed told him now.

“I can’t,” Shane told him.

“You need to learn to ask for what you want,” Keith said.

“I need to tell you the truth,” Shane told them, and Keith’s eyes widened in response for just a second before he brought his attention to neutral. “Okay? Get it—I don’t want to but I need to. And if you kick me the hell out because of it…it wouldn’t matter because I’d have done the right thing, and goddammit, I’ve always tried to.”

Reed sat like stone.

“I, ah, need to talk to you both about Guthrie,” he started, and he didn’t know if it was his tone or the look on his face, but both men sat up quickly. Keith didn’t stop there, stood and faced Shane. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

“And what’s that?” Reed drawled, his voice low and honeyed and equally dangerous.

Shane braced himself. “I’m not…Army. That was part of my cover.”

Reed’s shoulders sagged and Keith said one word, his tone clipped. “Spook.”

“Yes,” Shane agreed. “I’m not a Ranger. I’m CIA. Ex-CIA. I’ve been burned.”

He heard Keith blow out a slow whistle, heard Reed mutter something about Keith being right about things.

“So, what, if the sex hadn’t gone well, you would never have given us the truth, just disappeared into the night?” Keith asked.

“I knew it would go well before any of that. Before I watched you two. It was in the way you took care of me. You broke me.”

“Ah, so it’s our fault.”

“Yes.” Shane was convinced of it, so much so that Keith had to fight the urge to both laugh and hug the kid. But it wasn’t the time for that now. This was serious business, the-truth’s-going-to-fling-you-around-like-a-goddamned-hurricane time.

“And what about Guthrie? Because that note was real,” Keith said.

“He’s real—he’s CIA. And he did kill Kyle, and he is after me. He burned me.”

“How convenient that some of the truth fit in with your goddamned lies,” Reed railed. “And you thought nothing of betraying us. Nothing.”

“I didn’t…fuck, you can’t believe I betrayed you. Please, Reed, you of all people.”

“You took my trust and fucking killed it,” Reed said bitterly, right before he walked out.

Keith put a hand on the back of Shane’s neck. “He’ll come around.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Shane said. “I really fucked up. Again.”

“Fear makes us do strange things.”

At one time, Shane would’ve bet that Keith would be the angry one, stomping away at this reveal, but no, Reed was always the one who’d feel the betrayal keenly. His emotions were always right on the surface, sometimes too close for comfort.

“You had to tell us. You did the right thing,” Keith reassured him.

Again, he repeated, “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“There’s more going on here than just you not telling us,” Keith admitted. “Getting three men together like this doesn’t happen without some strife.”

“I’m breaking you guys apart,” Shane said. That had been his biggest fear, right behind not wanting him to stay.

“You’re not.”

Keith’s arms crossed, waiting and watching as Shane shifted nervously. Could be an act…but it could also mean the whole truth was finally coming. And if he was a betting man, he’d bet on the latter.

Shane bowed his head for a long minute and then pulled himself up and met Keith’s eyes. “I was recruited out of boot camp by the CIA. Sent to the farm and re-infiltrated through Ranger school because there were several high-ranking Rangers selling munitions in third-world countries.”

“Go on.”

“Guthrie killed Kyle—that part’s all too goddamned true.” His eyes clouded but his gaze never left Keith’s face.

“You’re paid to lie.”

“Yes, but you have to understand why I couldn’t tell you the truth. It was too fucking dangerous.”

“Isn’t it still?” Keith asked and Shane nodded. “So why reveal it all now?”

“Because I don’t want to leave. But you deserve to know how much trouble I’m bringing with me. Staying here isn’t my decision anymore. I can’t have another death on my conscience.”

Reed heard it all, his suspicions finally confirmed. There was nothing he could’ve presented as evidence—it was simply a matter of a special forces operator knowing one of his own kind, whether it be solider or spy. Shane’s abilities seemed to extend beyond Ranger training. When Shane had helped to save Keith when he was in South America, Reed had known something was up. But he was also a patient man.

“Reed, I know you’re listening,” Shane called.

Reed opened the door, leaned against the jamb.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t betray you.”

“Yeah, you did.” Reed was surprised at the hurt in his voice.

“I didn’t bring Guthrie here.”

“You used us as a safe house,” Reed shot back.

“And you didn’t let us prepare,” Keith added.

“Are you kidding? This place is a fortress.”

“You know as well as I do that mental prep’s the most important thing,” Keith growled.

“I tried to goddamned leave, remember?” Shane leaned back against the wall, knocked his head against it lightly a few times. “Do you want me to go now? If it means keeping you safe, making you trust me, fuck, I’ll do anything.”

“I want you to tell us the entire truth,” Keith said.

“Okay.”

“Come into the kitchen and sit. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long explanation,” Reed said tiredly.

“I’d do anything to wipe that look off your face,” Shane told him, then followed the men to the kitchen.

Keith passed coffee mugs around the table. There was silence for several long moments as he and Reed sat and Shane continued to stand.

Finally, Shane sat heavily and began speaking almost immediately. “Shane Wills, aka Malcolm Parker. Parents unknown. Birthdate unknown but estimated.” He rattled off a date that would make him twenty-nine. Older than they’d thought, which made sense, given the spooking thing and the fact that his last assignment hadn’t been his first.

“Foster care,” Keith said.

“Yes. I enlisted at seventeen. A judge signed off on it because I was already emancipated from the foster-care system and I was trying to erase a lot of petty crimes I’d gotten caught for off my record.”

“Which means there’s a long list of non-petty crimes you didn’t get caught for,” Keith said, and Shane smiled that I-could-charm-the-pants-off-anyone smile, indicating how right Keith was.

You’re supposed to be pissed at him
, he reminded himself, but that seemed to be a mission impossible.

“I went into the Army intending to be part of the Rangers. Halfway through boot camp, a guy approached me. He was a CIA director. They were actively recruiting and I ended up on their radar for a number of reasons.”

Shane wasn’t ready to share exactly what that skillset was, but he would, especially when Prophet started using him on jobs.

“So you went to Quantico,” Reed said.

“Yep. They took me to the farm after I’d been in the Army for six months, trained the hell out of me and sent me back to become a Ranger. At first, I infiltrated a small battalion accused of selling arms. A good mission. Successful. But that was just the tip of the iceberg, and I knew it was a long-term undercover mission. I stayed in the field for a couple of years.”

“And during all of this, you were with Kyle,” Reed said quietly.

“Yeah.” Shane’s face grew somber. “Met him in Afghanistan, of all places. I didn’t lie about any of that. Two years together. We lived together too, mainly because I was living out of a suitcase for those years.”

“How much did Kyle know?”

“He thought I was a Ranger, plain and simple. I deceived him.”

“You did your job. Protocol’s in place for your safety and the safety of your family and friends,” Reed said.

“And look how much it helped.”

Reed couldn’t argue that. “Keep going, Shane.”

Shane’s eyes flicked between Reed’s and Keith’s. “Everything I told you about Kyle was true—the explosion, him leaning over me…the gunshot. At least, I thought it was.”

He wasn’t going to be able to go on, and suddenly, Reed understood why. Shane was staring at his wrists, the scars, and yes, there was more to this story and it involved far more torture than Shane had ever let on.

Reed could be unforgiving, but not about something like this. He’d been right from the start—he and Shane were more alike than even he’d known.

Shane had lied because dealing with the truth might rip him apart, bring him back to that place of darkness. Clawing his way up out of that hole was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Doing it a second time…well, he might not make it.

His arms were on the table in front of him. He heard a click and Reed’s heavy watch came off and thunked onto the wood table. A snap and the leather bracelet he wore on the other wrist was off too.

Shane looked up questioningly and then down again as Reed put a wrist on either side of Shane’s.

It was only then that Shane saw the band of scars that matched his own. They were lighter but still visible. Reed turned his hands wrists-up so Shane could see the circles all the way around.

“These gave me away from day one,” he said in a choked voice.

“You ended up in the right house,” was Reed’s answer to that.

Keeping his eyes glued to the scars in front of him, Shane spoke. His voice sounded far away, as if he were going back to that not-so-distant time and place whether he wanted to or not.

“Guthrie chained me down so I couldn’t help Kyle,” he said.

“Kyle wasn’t shot?”

“Not with a bullet,” Shane said. He just hadn’t finished the story, because that’s where he’d wished the horror had ended, that Kyle had died a quick, peaceful death. “Guthrie thought he knew things about the munitions. He didn’t—I know he didn’t. But Guthrie didn’t believe me. Told me I was too close to the situation. Now I realize that Guthrie thought Kyle was on to him.”

“Because Guthrie had gotten involved with the Rangers who were selling the guns?” Keith asked and Shane nodded.

“I didn’t realize it at first myself. Not until that night.”

“What happened after you thought Guthrie killed Kyle?” Keith prompted and Shane didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to think about the cell ever again.

He’d woken, blinked at the flickering lights. Smelled the dank dampness of an underground room and struggled to sit up. But his wrists were chained to either side of him, the chains bolted to the wall.

He’d tugged to see how much hold they had. Realized he was going nowhere fast, but when the screaming from the next room started, it didn’t matter. For hours, Kyle screamed and begged, and Shane tried to get free, wouldn’t have cared at that point if his arms ripped off.

He’d pulled every muscle. Dislocated his shoulders, broken both wrists. Dug the metal bands so deeply into his skin that they were practically embedded. He could still hear them separating from the infected skin when the medic freed him, not knowing the extent of the damage he was inflicting.