by SE Jakes
“A red-blooded American man,” Keith said. “I was jealous too. Still am. You opened up to him so easily.”
“And then so did you,” Reed said sharply.
“Reed…baby—please.” Keith turned his face with a hand cupping his chin. “There’s no replacing you—I don’t want to replace you.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…it’s been a while. I forgot the dynamics. How it can be in the beginning.”
“I was jealous as hell when you and Bobby started fucking,” Keith reminded him, and yeah, the man had been a bear, had often taking his worry and frustration out on Reed when it was their turn.
And Reed had loved it—responded to the rough-and-tumble fucking—had made Keith fall in love with him equally as hard as Bobby had fallen with him.
“I guess there’s room for all of us,” Reed said finally.
“Of course there is, if that’s what you want. And if you don’t—”
“What? You’d let him go?” Reed asked.
“I’d do anything for you, Reed, you know that. But you need to tell me now, before we get in any deeper. And if we decide to move forward, you can never ask me that again,” Keith warned.
“I know. That wasn’t fair.” Reed shifted in his chair and pulled something out of a drawer. “I found this yesterday.”
Keith opened the envelope and read the contents. Now, he understood where Reed’s admissions were coming from—this was enough to set anyone on edge. “We’ll take care of this.”
“We have to. And I don’t want him to go. Never did.”
“I know. You’re just…”
“Scared to be with him alone,” Reed finished for him. “And how fucking ridiculous is that?”
“It’s not,” Keith told him softly.
“I don’t want to screw this up.”
“You’re not. I want you to be comfortable. I thought you were.”
“Yeah, I did too. And it’s not Shane’s fault. It’s mine.” Reed took the envelope back. “No matter what, we have to deal with this, and fast.”
“I think we should wait to tell him.”
“You think he’ll run?” Reed asked softly.
“Yeah. I think he would now.”
Reed looked at the envelope in his hand and then dropped it back into the drawer. “Then we make sure he’s ready to stay before we show him.”
Chapter Twenty
Several weeks passed in a heartbeat. Keith went on another mission, Shane helped to track him this time, along with a very restrained Reed. At first, Shane chalked it up to stress but he had to wonder if Reed wasn’t happy that Shane had slept with Keith.
“Hey Shane, can you come here a minute?” Keith called from the living room. Shane was in the kitchen, grabbing a soda. He looked out the kitchen door and saw them standing together, trying to look like everything was completely normal, and they sucked at it.
They had something to tell him—it was about as fucking obvious as the snow outside. But Shane steeled himself for whatever it was. He was getting stronger. Training twice a day to get back into prime condition. And he almost had himself fooled that everything was going to be all right.
“What’s up?” he asked, pretending he was all fine.
“We have something to show you,” Reed said.
Keith walked over to him and held out an envelope. Shane took it, forced himself to draw a breath before he opened it.
“Tell him to stay quiet, and none of you will have any problems.”
Guthrie. He’d been here, to Shane’s sanctuary. He’d threatened the men who’d saved him.
“When?” he asked quietly, and when he got no answer, he demanded, “When, dammit? How long ago?”
“Three weeks ago,” Keith told him. He looked at Reed, who was stonily silent.
“Three weeks? And I suppose you think you had a good reason why you didn’t tell me?”
“Several, actually. I just don’t think you’re going to be able to get over yourself long enough to hear them.”
Keith was right about that but Shane didn’t care. Shoved away from Keith’s touch to his shoulder. He was angry. Prepared to fight.
“Shane, we wouldn’t have let him get to you,” Reed told him.
“Now you’re talking to me?” he asked, and Reed flinched. “Yeah, you think I’m walking around here in some kind of cloud, not noticing shit? I notice everything. And this—” he held up the letter, “—is my ticket out of here.”
“I didn’t think you wanted out,” Reed said.
“It doesn’t matter what I want. This dictates where I go. And you should’ve told me when it happened.”
“You weren’t ready to deal with it,” Keith said.
“You don’t get to make those decisions for me, goddammit,” he roared, and Keith crossed his arms and stared him down. “Just because I’ve given you my submission in the bedroom doesn’t mean I’m going to give it to you in every area of my life.”
“I didn’t say you had to,” Keith said. “So what exactly would you have done? Gone after Guthrie before you were well enough? Let him ruin your recovery and your possible happiness? Tell me, Shane, what you would’ve done three weeks ago besides freak the fuck out.”
Keith spoke calmly and that pissed Shane off more than anything. He was spinning, the roar in his ears was like an oncoming hurricane pounding through his brain. Before he knew it, he’d pushed the big man squarely in the chest, over and over.
The man didn’t move, stood like an elephant being bothered by a fly. It pissed Shane off when all he wanted was an I’m sorry, any kind of goddamned reaction instead of the ever-present smugness. Pissed him off even more than Reed did at the moment and, for whatever reason, it was safer to go off on Keith for now.
Finally, he got his wish. Keith’s patience expired and he did explode, pinned him to the floor, rubbed his scruff against Shane’s cheek. “You want a reaction, baby boy, you’ve got it. I didn’t want you to be any more hurt than you were. I wanted to protect you, although when you act stupid like this, it’s hard to remember why.”
“Then teach me.”
Keith’s body went tight on his. “You want a lesson?”
“Yes.” He put his forehead against the carpet, his eyes stung with tears of humiliation. “I need it.”
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.