Battle It Out Read online

  His phone buzzed. It was the twentieth text from Royce in a matter of a few hours. He’d talked to the guy after his party and had ended their relationship, but the man was persistent. Swiping his finger, he blocked Royce’s number and forgot about him in the next second.

  Because he had other things on his mind.

  Hell fucking yes!

  I’m back!

  Zane

  “Diesel, Triton!”

  From the front of the terminal entrance, he waved at the pair coming through the massive revolving doors of the Los Angeles International airport.

  Even through the crush of bodies and the loud hum of noise, Diesel heard him.

  The big man’s head swiveled around and a grin split his face. One of his brother’s hands held a suitcase, the other held the hand of the blond man at his side.

  “Hey, baby brother,” Diesel said, dropping both the hand and suitcase to drag him into a tight hug.

  “Hey, you guys.” He gripped his brother tight and then reached with his free hand to pull Triton Scott to them. He crushed them both close for a long moment before pulling back. “How long are you staying?”

  “For the week!” Triton said, clapping his hands. “We’re supposed to meet with the adoption agency the day after tomorrow.”

  Diesel gazed fondly down at Triton before curling an arm around the smaller man’s waist and grabbing the suitcase handle. It was amazing to see his big, gruff, older brother being so gentle. The pair had met through Triton’s cousin, Captain Maddox Stone. Their path to love had been long and hard, but the happiness reflecting on their faces told him the road had been worth it.

  “Perfect. We don’t have anything on the books at the moment, so dinner tonight?”

  “I could eat,” Diesel said, patting his stomach.

  “Great.” He grinned. “There’s a restaurant inside your hotel. I’ll drop you off so you can get settled and meet you there at six?”

  “Sounds perfect,” Triton agreed.

  “So, tell me about this adoption opportunity,” he said as he pulled away from the airport parking lot and took the freeway that would dump them off on Broadway.

  “It’s twins!” Triton launched into details, happily monopolizing the conversation. He’d never seen his brother’s boyfriend so excited or so talkative. Not that he minded. Happiness was new to Triton, and Zane was thrilled his brother had finally taken the plunge to love again.

  Now, if he could only get his own love life figured out. There was no escaping Isaac’s face sweeping through his mind. Not the face of some unknown woman.

  He tightly curled his cold fingers around the steering wheel. Damn it.

  “This is the exit,” Diesel said.

  “What?” He blinked, glancing at the sign. Yep, he’d missed the exit. “I’ll take the next one, the hotel takes up the block.”

  He put on his blinker and ignored Diesel’s frown.

  “I can’t eat another bite,” Triton said, pushing his plate away. Diesel glanced at the half-eaten steak and forked it over to his own plate.

  Zane reached across and lifted the remaining fries from Triton’s plate. He grinned when Diesel gave him the evil eye.

  “Snooze you lose. Gotta be quicker, old man.”

  Triton giggled and stood. Bending down, he kissed Diesel on the cheek.

  “You’re not old,” Triton whispered to Diesel, who turned his head and caught the younger man’s lips in a firm kiss.

  “You’re sweet,” Diesel rumbled.

  Triton sent him a scolding look. “Don’t call him old.”

  Zane held up his hands, laughing.

  “Hey, I’m the baby brother. I get to call him names.”

  Triton rolled his eyes. “I’m heading up.” He placed a hand on Diesel’s shoulder. “I’ll fill out the rest of that paperwork; you stay and visit with your trouble-making brother.”

  “Night, Triton,” he said when after kissing Diesel, the small blond came around the table and dropped a peck on his cheek.

  Diesel watched Triton until the man disappeared into the elevator. Then, with a happy sigh, his brother turned around and settled back in his chair.

  A dish clattered from behind the kitchen doorway. A finished oak bar ran the length of the room. Utensils clanked against plates along with the hum of conversation. The restaurant was known for its prime rib cut and seared meat and spices drifted through the room. Overhead, piano music floated, piped in through small, round speakers. White cloths covered each tabletop and, in the middle, sat red glowing candles.

  “You’re not, you know,” he murmured, studying the flickering flame.

  “Not what?”

  “Old.” He gave his brother a smile.

  Diesel snorted, but a small smile played at the corner of his mouth.

  “Happy?”

  “Hell yeah,” Diesel said. “More than I ever believed possible.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  “Congrats on the promotion. My little brother, Master Sergeant.”

  “You left some big shoes to fill.”

  “You’ll fill them,” Diesel said firmly.

  “I’ll try.” He picked at a fry, poked it in ketchup and stared at it.

  “What’s going on?”

  “What?”

  “You’re distracted.” Diesel eyed him in the way only an older brother could.

  He didn’t know what the hell to do. He closed his eyes for a brief second, drew in a deep breath, and met his brother’s worried gaze.

  “I don’t know,” he evaded, and tossed the fry down before rubbing at his mouth. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Start wherever. I can keep up,” Diesel returned.

  His heart pounded in his chest with a sickening thud and he rubbed his sweating palms on his jeans. The room felt warmer than a moment ago. Perhaps the panic showed in his eyes, because Diesel leaned forward with a worry-filled gaze.

  “Tell me.”

  “You remember… Ryan Fairbanks?” he began haltingly.

  Diesel slowly sat back and steepled his fingers together. “Of course, I do. He was your best friend growing up.”

  “He was.” He swallowed hard.

  Diesel sighed. “Something like that leaves a hole that takes a long time to fill.”

  “I know. It’s like he was there one minute and gone the next.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I feel like it was. I feel like I should have known.” His eyes burned.

  “How could his suicide be your fault? He didn’t tell you he was going to kill himself, did he?”

  “No.” He opened his mouth and closed it, sure he resembled a gapping fish.

  “Just say whatever you need to say,” Diesel growled with a worried look.

  “We…kissed.”

  The shock on his brother’s face made his heart lurch and sent the blood pounding in his ears. He waited, but Diesel said nothing. His brother’s dark eyes locked on him. After a long moment, Diesel finally spoke.

  “How’d that happen?” One of his brother’s eyebrows lifted.

  How the hell did he think that happened?

  “You know when someone’s lips touch another person’s lips and then-”

  “Okay, smart ass,” Diesel grumbled. “I mean, what made you want to kiss Ryan?”

  “I wanted to see what it was like,” he admitted. “You’d come out already and I guess I wanted to see what the fuss was about.” That wasn’t the whole truth, but he went with that first.

  “Fuss?” Diesel expression grew doubtful. “News flash, Zane. Guys don’t kiss other guys just to see what the fuss is about.”

  He shifted in his chair, rubbed his fingers at his mouth, and nodded.

  “You’re right.”

  “Then tell me the truth.”

  “I watched you kissing your boyfriends.”

  “And you wanted that?”

  Damn it. Diesel was going to make him say it.

  “Yeah. It…turned
me on. I wanted to kiss a guy. I knew Ryan was gay. So, I asked him if I could kiss him.”

  “And?”

  “Relentless, aren’t you,” he muttered. “I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

  “When was this?” Diesel suddenly frowned.

  “The day before he killed himself.” His voice grew tight.

  “Jesus, Zane. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You’d already enlisted into the Army,” he said, holding his brother’s intense green gaze.

  “Wait.” Diesel frowned. “You don’t seriously think he killed himself because you kissed him.”

  “No, of course not.” He made a face, but his voice wavered and Diesel narrowed his eyes.

  “Bro, you’re not thinking right.” Diesel reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

  “Can I take your plates?” The waiter appeared.

  “Leave them, but bring us two glasses of your best bourbon on ice. There’s a fat tip if you make it quick,” Diesel told the waiter.

  “Be right back!” With a bright smile, the brown-haired man hustled away.

  Diesel stared at him, pulling his fingers down over the scruff on his face. They waited like that in silence until the waiter returned with their drinks and left them alone.

  Lifting his glass, Diesel gestured to him. “Drink some of that.”

  He took a slow swallow, feeling the comforting burn. The whiskey helped hold the burning in his eyes at bay. Fuck, it was such a relief to finally tell someone.

  “You’re forgetting that Ryan was gay and out,” Diesel said. “He had boyfriends before you ever kissed him. He killed himself because he felt alone.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I called Megan after it happened. She said that he had a huge fight with their dad the night before. Ryan’s dad told him to move out.”

  “All these years, I never knew that.”

  Honestly, he’d never asked, so that was on him. It had just been too fucking painful.

  “Wait…You called Megan, Ryan’s older sister?”

  “Yeah, just because I had enlisted didn’t mean I didn’t still have friends at home.”

  He nodded, because that made sense. Diesel and Megan had graduated the same year.

  “Megan never told me about the fight,” he rasped.

  “Maybe that’s because she didn’t think you’d understand.”

  “Why would she think that?” he asked, indignant.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Diesel said sarcastically. “Because you started claiming you were straight around that time?”

  He had. He was guilty. He’d told anyone he was close to that he was straight. And if any of his gay friends thought they could start something with him, he’d claim he was straight to nip all that in the bud right away.

  Jesus, how fucking foolish did he look? The man who doth protest too much. A flush started up his chest, the heat rising to his neck.

  “Zane.” Diesel interrupted his meltdown.

  “What?” he croaked.

  “I’m sorry you denied that part of yourself. I wish you would have talked to me.” Diesel’s mouth pulled down.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

  The hurt in his brother’s eyes killed him and he reached across and gripped Diesel’s hand.

  “I think the reason I didn’t tell you or anyone is because it was all stupidly mixed up in my head.”

  “That’s easy to do at seventeen,” Diesel agreed.

  “I know I’m not to blame for Ryan’s suicide. I hadn’t heard about the fight with his father, but I heard what the town said about him, how being gay was the reason he died. I heard what they said about you too, behind your back.” He rubbed at his chin. He’d received and delivered several black eyes when people talked shit about his brother.

  “After years went by, it just became my way of life to stay quiet,” he admitted.

  He closed his eyes. He’d completed missions that would make grown men puke their guts out, but he’d been a coward about this.

  “It is easier being straight,” Diesel admitted quietly.

  He swallowed hard, holding his brother’s eyes before glancing away and taking a sip of his drink and then another.

  “What brought it all up after all these years?”

  It’s Isaac. I can’t get him out of my head. He’s all I think about morning and night.

  “I’m not sure,” he evaded.

  “Have you kissed a man since Ryan?”

  His eyes swept up and locked on Diesel. “Um, no…”

  “You sure?” Diesel’s voice grew teasing.

  “I haven’t, but…” He turned his face away.

  “But you’ve thought about it,” Diesel guessed.

  “Yeah.”

  “I think you might be bi.”

  “I think you might be right,” he rasped, tossing back the remainder of his drink in one swallow. “If you have to put a label on it.”

  Christ, label or not, it felt good to say it out loud, to acknowledge that he had these feelings. He’d finally admitted it to someone.

  Thirty-seven years old and he finally admitted his attraction toward men. And one man above all others.

  “What do I do now?” He finally faced Diesel, feeling stupid for asking.

  Diesel squeezed his hand with a smile. “Acknowledge it to yourself. It’s not a crime. You don’t need to shout it out to the world, you know.”

  “No?”

  “Listen, Zane. Share it or don’t, that’s your choice, but you’re perfect the way you are.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  “Here’s a test,” Diesel said. “Ready?”

  He nodded

  “Think of someone you know who is gay and that you’re attracted to.”

  Blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a body to die for came to mind.

  “Got that picture in your head?”

  “Yes,” he croaked.

  “Now, do you think they are flawed or perfect just the way they are?”

  Perfection.

  “Okay, I get it.” His eyes popped open.

  “Good. Now trust me when I say there is nothing wrong with you.”

  “Thanks, bro,” he whispered.

  Diesel waved to the waiter, who hurried over. “Another round. We’ve got some celebrating to do!”

  Zane laughed. He hadn’t felt this much relief in fucking years. One thing kept going around and around in his brain.

  How was he going to tell Isaac?

  Zane

  “You wanted to see us, Sir?”

  From behind his wide desk, Liam waved him and Holden into the tidy office. The colonel held out a piece of paper, and Zane glanced at the names listed before passing the paper to Holden.

  “I need you two to meet up with Isaac, Pia, and Blade to observe those three men and report your findings back to me.”

  “Yes, Sir.” He turned to leave, but Holden’s question stopped him short.

  “Why?”

  “What did you say?” Liam asked quietly.

  Zane turned back around, trying to keep the smile from his face. He clasped his hands behind his back and planted his feet apart on the short blue carpet.

  “Why, Sir?” Holden said again, but this time he didn’t appear so sure.

  The chair screeched across the wood floor as the colonel stood. Holden’s throat bobbed when the man made his way around his desk.

  “What makes you think you deserve to know why?” The colonel stalked closer, peering into Holden’s face as if he were a bug.

  Holden stared at the wall over Liam’s shoulder. “I don’t have an answer for that, Sir.”

  “That’s right, you don’t. I’ll tell you what I need you to know when I’m goddamned good and ready. You got that, Sergeant?” Liam snarled.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Zane thought Holden’s knees shook, but it could have bee
n the lighting.

  “Something funny, Master Sergeant Gannon.” Piercing green eyes locked on him.

  “No, Sir.”

  “Get out.” Liam waved them off and stalked back to his desk.

  Zane hurried out into the hallway and closed the door once Holden was safely out. A snort and chuckle came from behind the door, but he couldn’t be sure.

  “Holy shit.” Holden let out a loud, shaky breath and slumped against the wall.

  “Way to go, newbie,” Zane cackled.

  “I’m not a fucking newbie.” Holden scowled and shoved from the wall to follow him outside.

  Zane flipped the lock on his jeep and climbed inside. Once Holden was seated, he started the engine.

  “Because I like you, I’m going to give you some advice.”

  “Yippie me.”

  Zane laughed. “Just because the colonel parties with us, don’t ever forget who he is.”

  “I won’t do that again.” Holden rubbed at his chest with a rueful smile.

  “Now, make yourself useful and get the locations.” He reached in the back seat, snatched up a laptop, and shoved it at Holden.

  “Aren’t we supposed to meet up with the others?”

  “They’ll probably beat us there.” He put the jeep in drive and took the freeway.

  Holden snorted and did as he asked, and the first address was easy to find.

  He grimaced when they pulled up to the washed-out white house with a broken front screen door and chipped paint. The neglected structure sat behind an unkempt yard of weeds and dead flowers.

  “Sergeant Joshua Greene lives here?” He squinted at the house.

  “Yeah, it says he lives here when he’s not at the base.” Holden closed the laptop.

  Zane reached over and pulled his personal weapon from the glove compartment.

  “Stay behind me in case there’s trouble,” he told Holden.

  “No need,” Holden growled and eased open the side of his windbreaker to show a gun nestled in an arm holster.

  “You allowed to carry that?” He squinted.

  “Are you?” Holden gazed pointedly at the gun in his hand.

  “Yup.” He tucked the handgun into the back of his jeans.

  Zane grunted and slid from the driver’s seat to meet Holden around the back of the jeep.