by Black Olivia
“No!” Agent Moor shouted. “We can’t kill him.”
“Why not?” Lìos practically growled. “Let’s just get rid of him.”
“We’re not going to kill him,” Moor said.
“Nobody here will say a word. He resisted arrest. We didn’t have a choice.”
“We’re not like him. We don’t kill people.”
“Am I under arrest?” Duncan asked, looking up at the bickering agents, who both shot him a nasty glare.
“You traffic arms,” Moor announced as if this was news to Duncan. “You get rich by selling guns to desperate people. You promote death and murder. The best thing we can do is get you off the streets.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. Am I under arrest?”
“We seized your container at the dockyard. The paperwork initially led us to a dummy corporation, but we were finally able to link it to you,” Moor told him.
“Do you want to know who told us about the shipment?” Lìos asked with a smile.
Duncan shrugged. He didn’t really care. He’d lost a shipment. It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was the cost of doing business.
“Thomas Doyle.” He laughed. “Your lover turned you in.”
Duncan kept his composure, refusing to show any sort of reaction. He wouldn’t give these men the satisfaction of knowing his true emotions. Duncan already knew that Thomas was holding on to some secrets. Hell, Niall had warned him that Thomas was trouble, but he didn’t want to know the truth. Duncan fell in love and he couldn’t find it in his heart to regret a single decision concerning the young man.
“I hope you enjoy this moment,” Duncan told them both.
“And why is that?” Moor asked.
“Because it’s not going to last.” Duncan grinned. “You may hate what I do, but it’s a necessity.”
Lìos pulled him to his feet. He took out his cuffs and clicked the cool steel around each of Duncan’s wrists.
“You can take me in, but the charges won’t stick.”
“You’re going to spend the rest of your life in a cell. The only time you’ll see the sky is when you’re being moved back and forth from the courthouse. You’re going to die behind bars.”
Duncan shook his head. “I know some of the most powerful men in the world. I may be an arms dealer, but the government needs a freelancer like me. You should know by now that it’s all about the money, and I’m not the only one collecting the cash. Other people, in higher places, have their fingerprints on those guns that you collected.”
* * * *
Thomas wasn’t sure how long he sat inside the interrogation room. It felt like hours. Leaning back in the chair, he rolled the engagement ring around his left finger over and over again. When the door finally swung open, he dropped his hands into his lap and sat up straight.
“You’re quite an accomplished actor,” Conall Lìos said as he stepped into the room.
“Excuse me?” Thomas’s brows drew together in confusion.
“That little scene back there with Duncan Ó Branagáin. It almost looked like you cared for the man.”
“It’s none of your fucking business.”
He wasn’t in the mood to play any games. Thomas…Toby…he didn’t even know who he was at this moment, but that didn’t stop his heart from aching. Knowing that he might never see his mate again made him physically ill. His stomach churned, and bile rose in the back of his throat. How was he going to live without Duncan?
“Papers?” Agent Lìos asked.
“Where’s my backpack?”
One of the other agents that accompanied Conall into the room produced the battered thing, dropping it onto the table. Thomas unzipped it and pulled out all the documents containing Thomas Doyle’s identity. Agent Lìos took them before handing him his real passport and driver’s license. Toby Winters.
“There is a private transport waiting to take you back to Las Angeles. Thanks for your help, Toby.”
“What’s going to happen to Thomas Doyle?” he asked.
“He’s going to die.”
Toby swallowed hard. He was going to miss Thomas Doyle, but more than that, he was going to miss Duncan. How would Duncan react to the news? Would he really believe that Thomas was dead?
“You’d better get moving. You’ve got a plane to catch.”
Toby pulled his old tennis shoes from his backpack. He quickly shoved them onto his feet and stood up. He pushed his passport and ID into his jeans pocket before zipping up his backpack and flinging it over his right shoulder.
“What about Duncan?”
“He’s no longer your concern.”
“Bullshit,” Toby growled.
“Duncan knows that you’re the one that reported him. Your days here are numbered. The best thing you can do is leave. Get on the plane and go back where you came from. Toby Winters was never in Ireland,” Conall sneered. Turning on his heel, the man marched out of the room.
“What about my dog!” Toby shouted after him.
Toby stood frozen, his feet stuck to the floor as Conall’s words washed over him. Duncan knows the truth. He knows that I’m the one that betrayed him. It’s over.
He grabbed the other strap of his backpack and put it over his left shoulder. Tears burned the backs of his eyes, and his lower lip started to quiver. Tightening his jaw, Toby took control of his emotions, refusing to allow any of the other agents see him cry. He couldn’t turn back now. It was too late.
Toby grabbed hold of his backpack straps to stop his hands from shaking. Shuffling his feet, Toby left the small room, heading out the door. An agent stepped in front of him, and Toby followed along without speaking. He was escorted out of the airport terminal, onto the tarmac. As soon as he saw the plane, Toby felt a moment of relief. The private jet belonged to the FPA, which meant he wouldn’t be shoved onto a commercial airliner.
The main cabin door was open, a short set of stairs welcoming him to enter. Toby climbed the steps and walked onto the aircraft. Gray-and-white-striped carpet covered the floor, and large overstuffed chairs and couches lined each side of a wide pathway leading to the rear of the plane where a kitchen was located. The bathroom was located in the front, near the cockpit. Taking off his backpack, Toby tossed it onto the nearest chair.
Dakota Youngblood strolled up from the rear of the plane, carrying a mug. The smell of coffee surrounded Toby, and his mouth began to salivate, desperate for some caffeine.
“Hey, kid.” The falcon shifter grinned. “How was your first solo mission?”
“It was okay,” he lied, the words rolling off his tongue. “I wasn’t expecting a pickup.”
“I was in the area.”
“Uh-huh.” Toby didn’t necessarily believe that.
“Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes,” he said, heading toward the cockpit.
“Dakota,” Toby called out. The other shifter stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s really good to see, man. Thank you for picking me up.”
Dakota smiled. “No problem.”
Toby barely made it to the couch before his legs gave out. He was emotionally exhausted. Lying down, Toby scrubbed his hands down his face. The tears he’d been holding at bay spilled down his cheeks. He sobbed silently, mourning the loss of his mate. He hadn’t felt this lost and alone since the night his parents were killed.
“The before-takeoff checklist is complete,” Dakota said over the speaker system. The engines hummed to life, and the plane started moving. “We’re heading home.”
Toby grabbed his seat belt as he sat up and clicked the buckle into place. He rubbed his chest, trying to relieve the pain, but it wouldn’t go away. Duncan.
Chapter Fourteen
Two Weeks Later
There was a light knock on his bedroom door. Toby pried his swollen eyes open and watched as Graham Bingham strolled in. The lion shifter sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at Toby, concern written all over
his face.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
It was a lie. He wasn’t fine, but Toby couldn’t seem to find the strength to be honest. His heart no longer beat within his chest. Instead, the organ had been replaced with a sharp, never-ending pain that haunted him every second of every day. He woke up with regret and went to sleep with guilt. He was put into an impossible position. Toby wasn’t sure if he deserved a mate, not after the betrayal. There had been plenty of opportunities to tell Duncan the truth, but in the end, he hadn’t.
He was pretty sure that Duncan had been told that Thomas Doyle was dead. And Toby wished that he’d died right along with his cover identity. How could he continue living when his mate was locked behind bars somewhere? He’d called the other agents—Lionel Palmer, Griffeth Moor, and Conall Lìos—but they wouldn’t give him any information. Nobody would talk to him. It was almost as if Duncan Ó Branagáin never really existed. As if the man was only a figment of Toby’s imagination.
“What happened?” Graham asked.
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to talk to you about the case.”
“Fuck the rules,” he bit out. “You haven’t left your bedroom since you got home. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. What happened to your mate?”
“I don’t know.” Toby rolled over, staring blankly at the wall.
“Do you want me to make some calls? I’ve got a few contacts at Interpol. We can find him.”
“Thomas Doyle.” Toby sniffled. “He’s dead.”
“Fuck,” Graham whispered. He grabbed Toby’s shoulder, giving a squeeze. “Was Thomas your mate?”
“No, I’m Thomas Doyle, or at least I was.”
“Toby, turn over,” Graham ordered. He rolled over and faced the other shifter once more. “Talk to me.”
Toby sighed. He sat up and crossed his legs, facing Graham.
“I went to Ireland. I went undercover as Thomas Doyle. They wanted me…”
“Who are they?” he interrupted.
“It was a joint task force, Interpol, Scotland Yard, and the FBI.”
“Okay.”
“Anyway, I was supposed to get close to a man named Duncan Ó Branagáin. I met him the day I arrived in Belfast and knew that he was my mate.”
“And?” Graham gently coaxed.
“And I had to find evidence against my mate so that they could put him in prison for the rest of his life. I was torn. Was I supposed to follow my oath or stay loyal to Duncan?”
“You followed your oath,” Graham stated. There was no judgment in his tone. He was simply just making a point.
“I reported in the first night of a meeting at the dock yard. Turns out, Duncan was expecting a shipment from South Africa, and the container was seized by Interpol. It was filled with weapons.”
“It sounds like you had to make a really hard decision.”
“Duncan’s not a bad man,” Toby insisted. “He donates money to charity. He cares about his community. He was kind and loving. He wanted to marry me. And now, he’s gone, and I’m dead.”
“I know that things look tragic right now, but trust me, it’s not as bad as you think.”
“How can you say that?” Things couldn’t possibly be worse at this moment. He’d lost the love of his life, his mate.
“We need to talk to Bruno. He can find the answers you’re looking for.”
Toby shook his head. “I don’t want Duncan to hear the truth from someone else. Everything we shared feels like a sham now. When he finds out that Thomas never even existed, he’ll never forgive me. And I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t be able to forgive me either. I should’ve chosen him. I should’ve insisted that we leave Ireland. I should’ve protected my mate.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course, you know I trust you.”
“I want you to get dressed and come with me downstairs. Bruno is in his office. Let’s talk to him. He can make a few calls. Once you know where your mate is, you’ll feel better.”
“I have to be the one to tell Duncan the truth.”
“We won’t say a word. Your secret is safe with us.”
“Okay.”
Throwing his blanket back, Toby climbed out of bed. He grabbed a clean T-shirt and pair of jeans from his dresser before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him for privacy. He stripped off his pajamas and tossed them into the hamper before getting dressed.
When he reached out to grab the doorknob, Toby noticed the engagement ring. He stared down at the band, his mind going back to the morning Duncan had proposed. After several minutes, Toby pulled the ring off his finger. He opened a nearby drawer and rummaged around until he found a gold chain. Unclasping the lock, he placed the ring on it before clipping it around his neck. Toby tucked it underneath his T-shirt, hiding it from sight.
Toby opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Graham held out his hand, and Toby took it. He was glad to have the support. He knew his life would’ve been a complete disaster if the FPA hadn’t stepped in. Graham and the other guys had brought him into their lives and taken care of him.
They walked downstairs together and found Bruno in his office. The bear shifter was thumbing through a pile of paperwork. When he saw them, he stopped what he was doing and leaned back in his chair.
“I guess Graham has the magic touch, huh?” Bruno asked.
“What?” Toby’s brows drew together in confusion.
“I’ve been trying to get you out of your room for a week.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’ve missed you around here, kid.”
“I’m just dealing with a lot right now, and I don’t really know how to handle it.”
“That’s why we’re here. We’re your family, remember?”
“I know.” Toby sighed. “I should’ve said something sooner.”
“You were having a pretty intense pity party up there.”
“He’s only eighteen. Cut him some slack, boss,” Graham said, sticking up for him.
Bruno chuckled. “I’m only teasing.”
“I need your help,” Toby told him.
“Of course.” Bruno nodded. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Toby sat down in one of the chairs across from Bruno and went through the story once more. When he was finally done, the office was silent. He looked up and stared at the leader of the FPA, waiting for him to respond.
“Why didn’t you tell me that Duncan was your mate? I could’ve done something before he was arrested.”
“You’re right. I should’ve told you, but I can’t go back and change the past. As of right now, our whole relationship is a complete lie. He knows me as Thomas Doyle, and soon, the authorities are going to tell him Thomas is dead.”
“At this point, the only thing I can do is petition the government under the mating law. If the petition is accepted, Duncan will be released to me and punished as if he were a paranormal.”
Toby leaned back in the overstuffed chair, thinking over his options. He didn’t know what to do.
“Do you think the petition will be accepted?”
“They won’t accept the petition unless you marked and claimed him as your mate.”
Toby’s shoulders dropped. It felt as though his entire world was crumbling around him. “We can’t go that route then. I didn’t mark Duncan. I couldn’t, not while I was lying to his face and pretending to be someone else. Hell, he doesn’t even know that I’m a shifter.”
Bruno leaned forward, placing his forearms on his desk. “I’ll make a few a calls, but at this point, I’m not sure if there anything we can do.”
“I appreciate your honesty.”
“I’m sorry, Toby.”
* * * *
After a week behind bars, Duncan was finally granted the right to receive a visitor. He was kept in a private area inside a minimum-security prison. It wasn’t really all that bad. The government wasn’t going to prosecute him. They couldn’t, not while people
holding high-ranking government positions were receiving money from him. So, they kept him locked up in “protective custody.” There wouldn’t be a trial, but that was mostly because they needed to cover their own asses. In the grand scheme of things, Duncan knew that a short-term prison sentence was a good deal considering the alternative.
When he saw Niall through the glass partition, Duncan smiled. At this point, his only real concern was Thomas. Had he caught a flight back home? Was he safe? Once he had the answers to those questions, everything in his world would be okay.
Duncan sat down on the short bar stool. He grabbed the phone and put it to his ear. “Niall, it’s good to see you, man.”
“You, too.”
“Did you find Thomas? Is he okay?”
“I’ve got some bad news.”
“What?”
“He’s…” Niall broke eye contact. He took a few deep breathes as if he were trying to collect his thoughts.
“What?” Duncan growled.
“He’s dead.”
“Bullshit.”
“There was a car accident on the way to the airport. He was killed at the scene.”
“No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No!” Duncan shouted into the phone. He didn’t believe it. It was impossible.
“I’m sorry,” Niall whispered.
Duncan dropped the phone onto the table. He rose to his feet, his legs shaking so badly he almost collapsed. Oh God, Thomas. How could this have happened? How could his sweet angel be dead? The world started spinning, everything blurring together in a mass of colors and shapes. Moisture leaked from his eyes, dripping down his cheeks. Thomas. How could he live in a world without Thomas? They were going to get married. They were supposed to spend the rest of their lives together.
Wiping his face, he blinked rapidly, clearing his vision. Niall stood on the other side of the glass, banging his fist against the hard surface while shouting his name.
Duncan grabbed the phone. “I want to know everything. Talk to every source we’ve got.”