Never Say Never (Sniper 1 Security #2)

“From where I sit, it’s exactly that simple. Z is not Kevin. Not even fucking close. You need to remember, we’ve all been hurt in this life, but what we do with that pain is what counts. We can harp on it for as long as we want, but it doesn’t change anything. In the meantime, while you’re tryin’ to protect yourself, you’re ignoring everyone else. And isn’t that our motto…protect by any means necessary?” Trace’s hands dropped to his sides. “I’d like to think that applies to the people we care about, too.”

Ryan didn’t get a chance to refute anything Trace said, because he was suddenly alone in his office once again, hating himself more now than he had already.

Yet he still had no idea what he was supposed to do about that.





THIRTY-ONE





AT EIGHT O’CLOCK, Z RESUMED his post beside his father’s bed. Most of the residents went to sleep early, or retired to their room, at least. That gave Z time to spend with his father, something he always looked forward to.

For most of his life, Z had used his father as his sounding board. These days, he still told his father everything, even if the man couldn’t give him any advice. He wanted to believe that his father could hear him, knew that he wasn’t alone.

“What d’ya wanna do tonight, Dad?” Z asked, flipping through the channels on the television as he got settled into the recliner he’d brought from his own house, giving him a comfortable place to sleep without taking up too much room. “We could watch the history channel, but it doesn’t look like there’s anything good on.” Glancing over at his duffel bag that he’d placed on the dresser, Z remembered the other items he’d brought. “I’ve got a new Guinness Book of World Records book I could read to you.”

“I think he’d like that better.”

Z’s head jerked toward the voice at the same time he launched himself out of his chair. “Jensyn. What’re you doin’ here?”

There, looking as pretty as always, was his kid sister. His heart leapt as he hurtled toward her, lifting her into his arms and squeezing her tightly.

“You’re crushing me, Z,” Jensyn whispered.

“Sorry. It’s just… God, it’s good to see you.” He managed to keep his voice down, despite the excitement that churned through him. Z hadn’t seen Jensyn since Christmas, due to both of their busy schedules. “Have you talked to Reese? Does he know you’re here?”

Jensyn moved farther into the room, closing the door a little to give them some privacy. “He’s comin’ up tomorrow. I came right from the airport, so I’m exhausted. I’ve only got a couple of days, but I wanted to come see Dad before I crashed for the night. And you, of course.”

Z’s sister looked sad as she moved closer to their father’s bed.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said softly. “I’m here. I just stopped in for a minute, but I’ll come back tomorrow, spend the day with you.”

Z watched his father closely, wishing for a sign of life. Had Thomas Tavoularis been awake, he would’ve pulled Jensyn to him and crushed her the same way Z had.

Jensyn leaned down and kissed Thomas on the forehead before standing up straight and facing Z once more. “I can’t stay long. I need to get a hotel room.”

Z frowned. “You can stay at my place. It’s empty.”

“Are you sure?”

Rummaging through his gym bag, Z found his house key, sliding it off the ring and handing it over to Jensyn. He wasn’t going to give her any other options. “Positive. You’ll have it all to yourself. I’ll call Marissa so she can get you past the security.” Z nodded toward the recliner. “I’m gonna stay here tonight.”

“If it’s not an imposition,” Jensyn said seriously. “I really appreciate it.”

“Tomorrow mornin’ we’ll have breakfast?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jensyn hugged him once more before slipping out of the room.

“Did you see that, Dad?” Z stared at the doorway. “Jensyn’s here. And Reese’ll be here tomorrow.” Turning back to his father, he continued to smile. “That means you better rest up. You remember how it was when the three of us got together.”




BY THE TIME RYAN GOT home, it was after midnight, and he was exhausted. The only way he found he could sleep these days was to work nonstop until his body practically gave up on him. Tonight, though, his brain was running amuck. He’d spent countless hours since their trip to Port A thinking about Z, but more so tonight after his conversation with Trace.

The information Trace had relayed—the fact that Z visited his father every night—was something Ryan couldn’t stop thinking about. He couldn’t imagine how painful that must be for Z, yet the man was always quick to smile, never pushing his own pain and suffering on anyone else. From the outside looking in, no one would know that Z wasn’t living the high life, doing everything he’d ever wanted to do. Instead, he was taking care of his family, spending time with the people most important to him.

And here Ryan was, wallowing in his own self-pity and letting his life be dictated by work. That was one of the major ways he and Z differed, although Ryan knew Z was dedicated to his job. However, it would appear that Z had other things that he juggled at the same time.

Stripping out of his clothes, Ryan crawled into bed, lying on his back with his hands linked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, the only light coming from the red glow of the numbers on his alarm clock.

What was Z doing right then? Was he watching television with his father? Reading to him? Or simply talking? Was he lonely?

And what gave Ryan the right to care? He’d walked away from Z. The look on Z’s face was still etched into his memory. Part of him had wanted Z to fight for him, but that hadn’t happened. Not that he’d deserved it.

Trace was right, Ryan had been acting like a first-rate prick for the last couple of months. He’d been self-serving in his decisions, doing what would be easier for him, not thinking about anyone else.

But they hadn’t failed another assignment. That was a good thing. It only went to prove that Ryan didn’t have time to focus on anything other than Sniper 1 Security. When he allowed his attention to stray, things went to hell.

Forcing his eyes closed, Ryan breathed deeply, imagining Z, thinking about the last time they’d been together at the beach house. As he finally drifted off, he felt the same guilt stab into his gut, a painful reminder that getting close to someone only ended badly.





THIRTY-TWO





THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Z MET Jensyn at a small diner close to the warehouse where he lived. He’d been surprised to find Trace and Marissa had also come along, offering to drive Z’s sister rather than force her to take a cab. Seeing the three of them together made Z a tad bit nervous. Okay, it made him really fucking nervous, but what could he do?

“She’s much prettier than you are,” Trace told him after they’d all taken a seat in a booth near the back.

“I’d hope so,” Marissa chimed in. “No one’s ever accused Z of bein’ pretty.”

“No,” Jensyn agreed. “But he’s had some pretty boyfriends in the past.”

“Thanks for sharing that,” Z grumbled facetiously, studying the menu, fighting his smile.

“How’s your dad?” Marissa inquired.

“He’s…” Z glanced between Trace and Marissa, somewhat puzzled by the question. He felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t bothered to share the fact that he spent the majority of his time with his comatose father with his closest friends, but he got the impression Marissa knew more than he’d thought she did. “He’s good.”

Jensyn spoke up, as though sensing Z’s discomfort with the subject. “He’s good for a guy who’s been in a coma for four years. For the most part, he’s healthy, besides his body’s natural deterioration. I’d like to think that Z’s the reason he keeps fighting to come back to us.”

“So the doctors think he’ll wake up?” Marissa looked directly at Jensyn.

Yep, Marissa definitely knew more than he’d thought.

“The prognosis was better in the beginning,” Jensyn replied, looking at Z briefly as though trying to understand why his closest friends were asking something so basic. “He’s suffered immeasurable brain damage, but we’ve refused to give up on him until we know for sure. He’s not bein’ kept alive by machines, other than the feeding tube, so it’s one of those things where we’re hopeful.”

“Is that why you spend the night there every night?” Marissa inquired.

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