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Riley managed to swallow most of her discomfort on the short drive back to her condo. She’d been embarrassed when Zane brought up her artwork. She shared the dream with him in confidence, thinking it would stay between them until she was ready to make things public. Then Kenzie had to go and confirm her worst fears. Zane was just being polite when he said she was talented, and the entire thing was a total waste of time.
She didn’t want to spend the night wallowing. She needed a distraction. Zane pulled into the visitor parking, and she spat out the question before she could stop herself. “Do you have anywhere to be in the morning?”
“Not really.”
“Stick around for a while. We’ll game or something.”
“I’m in.” He shut off the truck and followed her inside.
Riley kicked the door shut and leaned back against it, not sure what to say. Telling herself not to think about the disappointment of the night proved to be the best way to think about that and only that.
Zane studied her face for a moment, a shadow tinting his eyes. He grabbed her fingers and tugged her toward the couch. “Scott calls you baby sister?”
She flopped next to him on the cushions. A brief flash of uncertainty pulsed through her, and she decided at the last minute to keep a few inches between them. “I’m younger than he is, and we’ll be related by marriage soon. He thinks it’s a funny nickname, because I’m the older twin.”
“I guess that makes sense. Just make sure he understands I’m the one who gets to knock skulls and bust kneecaps if someone hurts you.”
The protective words warmed something deep inside her, and at the same time made her gut clench. “I’m not exactly living a life of danger.”
Silence stretched between them, the way it did far too often recently. He fidgeted, rubbed his hand over his head, and sighed several times. He might be talking about Scott, but that wasn’t where his mind was.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
He shifted on the couch, turning to face her and tucking one foot under the other knee. “The day I packed up and left for MEPS.”
She searched for some hint in his expression, but an impassive gaze stared back at her. She remembered when he shipped off for boot camp. How hard it had been to say goodbye at the airport. How something had been off. She’d assumed it was that his entire life was about to change.
“I couldn’t sit still that morning. Watching the clock, waiting... And then it was almost time to go. I looked everywhere for Granddad and finally found him on the back porch.”
Zane’s mother passed away when he was eight. That had been the most horrible summer Riley remembered from their childhood. He withdrew completely, and it took months to get him to talk again. His grandfather had raised him after that.
She always thought the older man was odd, even overly strict. Like when Zane was nine and had complained he was too big for his bed. The next night his bed had vanished, and he spent almost a month sleeping on the floor.
When his granddad replaced the missing bed—with something very high-end, at least for a nine-year old—he said something like, The difference between knowing a thing and understanding a thing is complacency.
Regardless of his quirks though, the man was always kind to Riley, and Zane saw him as a father, so she gave him some leeway.
“And?” she asked.
“He didn’t say anything for several minutes.” Zane rested his arm on the back of the couch, staring at something past her she knew she wouldn’t see if she turned around. “I’ve never forgotten what he said when he spoke.”
She couldn’t help but frown at his distant look, and didn’t dare interrupt the half-memory.
“He told me my mother had always had an uncanny talent for bringing joy and comfort to those who needed it.” He clenched and unclenched his fist. “That he’d known from the time I was five that I wouldn’t be the same.”
“That’s not fair.” A wave of fury rose in her.
He held up his hand. “He was right.”
“No.”
Zane gave a tiny smile. “He told me people like us—him and me—that it was our personal responsibility to see that people like Ma”—he trailed off and then finally gave her his full attention again—“and you always had that opportunity. That men like me were born evil, and that was our redemption.”
“What does that mean?” Riley couldn’t fathom a person saying something so cruel, especially to someone they’d raised as a son. “You’re not evil. You’re as far from it as possible.”
“Are you sure? I’ve thought about that a lot since.” His face was devoid of emotion. Which was a little eerie, considering the haunted look he’d worn so much lately. “You know how I spent my life before I enlisted. Just because I wasn’t shoplifting or mugging people doesn’t mean I wasn’t a thief. I stole electronic versions of games. I hacked security systems, because I could, and took what most would call insider information, to see how it would play out on the stock market.”
“But...” She struggled for an argument, but it was true. Those things had been wrong. She still didn’t get evil from them, though.
“Enlisting gave me permission to do it legally.”
“Except you walked away,” she said. “You hit that point where you knew it was wrong, and you left.”
“Walked away. Right. Granddad said the job offer was coming too. That people with my gray-area ethics were sought after. That someone would buy me, and they’d meet my price.”
Riley didn’t know what to do with the information. She did know there was too much pain and self-doubt associated with it, and she couldn’t even begin to touch it. “Except they couldn’t buy you. If he were right, you’d have taken the CIA job.”
“Right. Exactly. I turned them down.” His words sounded hollow. Lacked conviction.
Zane couldn’t have done anything too bad. He was lost in a guilt she didn’t understand but wanted to help erase.
She leaned her head on his arm. “If that’s all that happened, it’s not a big deal.” Is it all that happened? The question stuck in the back of her throat. It was rude to ask, but a tiny voice said maybe she was terrified he’d give her an answer other than yes.
He didn’t look convinced, and the haunted look of the memory lingered in his gaze. “But what if I’d done something else?”
“You don’t have to keep that stuff to yourself. I’m always here to listen. I know you look up to your granddad, but he’s wrong about this. You’re not evil.”
Whatever doubts nagged in the back of her mind, they didn’t deserve her attention. Zane needed her. He’d do the same for her, not that she could imagine being that lost in her past or keeping it to herself if she was.
She stood, ignoring the question on his face, and pulled his foot out so it was straight on the couch. She turned her back to him and sat between his legs. Pulling his arm around her, she settled her back against his chest. Maybe he didn’t need the comfort, but after a revelation like that, she didn’t know how someone couldn’t. She was relieved when he didn’t pull away.
“Enough about my demons.” His voice was low when he spoke again. “Tell me what you got up to while I was gone.”
She felt selfish. He carried an invisible weight on his shoulders, and she was going on about things like art and whether or not she knew what love was. If he wanted to change the subject, though, she wouldn’t push back. “That’s an open-ended question.”
“So pick something to start with, and we’ll go from there. Like what made you decide to get more serious about the manga or work or anything. Except maybe Archer. I think I know enough about that.”
She pulled his arms tighter around her. Maybe if she wrapped them both in normalcy, it would help. “Well, it did start in his comic shop...”
He stiffened.
“I promise, that’s where the Archer part of things ends.” She drifted into the explanation. In the back of her mind, Zane’s story about his past still taunted her. Not only what he said, but the things he kept to himself. And as much as she tried to pretend it wasn’t there, the nagging voice in her skull knew it gnawed at him, and wondered if he’d be able to handle whatever he hid before it devoured who he was.