“Much as I hate to admit it, you did the right thing not beating him up. He’s still Mrs. P’s nephew.”
Zane grimaced, his frustration showing now that Owens was gone. “Missy will give him his comeuppance. What do you want to bet he’ll dial her the minute he’s off the grounds?”
“Are you going to call her?”
“And say what? She’d enjoy it too much if I beg, and I refuse to pay her off. Money isn’t what she’s after anyway. This is about revenge.” He covered his face. “When that film goes public, the media will have a field day.”
“We have friends in the media. Maybe they’d agree to keep a lid on this.”
“It won’t matter. Missy can post the file on fucking YouTube or a hundred of her fan’s blogs. Our lawyers might get it taken down, but not before it’s seen—and copied—who knows how many times.”
Zane’s arm muscles were hard with tension when Trey rubbed them. Zane wasn’t in the mood for sympathy.
“It’s my own damn fault,” he said bitterly. “I’m the one who hid what he was and gave them something to expose.”
“Everyone has a right to keep their private life private.”
Zane snorted. “Not me. And not you, apparently. I’m sorry, Trey. You saw what Missy was. I should have known better.”
“I wouldn’t have predicted she’d do this. Anyway, maybe we should worry about Rebecca. She’s in that footage too.”
Trey’s reminder hardened Zane’s face. “Damn it. She doesn’t deserve this.” He looked toward the house and sighed. “We should go back. Warn her what happened.”
“We can’t let her go home tomorrow,” Trey said.
“No,” Zane agreed. “Whatever it takes, we protect her until this blows over.”
Unlike Owens, they went quietly down the garage stairs.
“So,” Trey said, because he truly couldn’t leave it alone. “Were you trying to give me a heart attack by running toward a guy with a gun?”
“He wouldn’t have hit me,” Zane said. “He was too scared to aim. Besides, sometimes the best defense—”
“—is a good offense. I remember.”
They’d stopped on the walk at the bottom of the steps. Zane squeezed Trey’s trapezius exactly the way he used to on the football field in high school, when they’d had to hide what they were to each other. The potentially lethal danger they’d just faced had shaken Trey. At the squeeze—and the reminder—emotion sheened his eyes.
Zane saw this and touched his face. “No way could I let that pipsqueak shoot you.”
“Good to know,” he said roughly.
Zane pulled Trey to him, holding him hard and tight. This would have been the time to say I love you . . . if he’d been anyone but him. Trey usually didn’t mind not hearing it, but right then wasn’t usual. Rather than complain, Trey hugged him back. Zane had taken a risk tonight. To expose the other side of his nature to Rebecca, and then have this happen, must have seemed like the universe reaching down to smack him. Trey himself wasn’t looking forward to total strangers passing judgment on what should have been private acts. Bad enough that Owens and that bitch had seen.
He rubbed Zane’s back and let go of him.
“Rebecca will be wondering what happened,” he said.
To his relief, his voice was steady.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Fallout
REBECCA’S relief when the men returned safe and unbloodied was dizzying. She jumped up from the bed and hugged them in turn.
“God,” Zane said, bending to squeeze her. “I’m so sorry you’re getting dragged into this.”
“It’s done,” she responded, stroking his golden hair. His face was pressed to her neck. She looked over his head to Trey. “I take it you didn’t kill Owens.”
“Broken wrist,” Trey said. “Confiscated laptop. Fired and gone from the house. I’m afraid he sent the file already. To Mystique, like you guessed.”
Rebecca had concluded that from Zane’s apology. She reminded herself she was good in a crisis. This wasn’t going to break her. She pushed back gently from Zane’s embrace. “I was thinking while I was waiting here. If you can’t convince that woman not to use the footage—”
“I doubt we can,” Zane warned.
“Then maybe you should prepare a statement. Come out as bi voluntarily. As if you’re not ashamed, but you wanted to keep it private. That’ll take at least half the wind out of the gossips’ sails.”