Consequences, Choices and Confessions by pari106

Disclaimer…etc., Chapter 1.



Chapter 12



It was about fifteen minutes later that Zane looked out his front window and noticed the trail of dust shooting out from his place, towards the main highway. Adjusting his vision, he saw the cause of it: a motorcycle had just taken to the highway as though the hounds of hell were after it.

"What the…"

Then Zane's attention was brought back to the cabin when the front door flew open. In stalked Zack, slamming the door shut again behind him.

"Zack, what the…" Then Zane's words trailed off as he took in his brother's appearance: black eye, swollen lip, dusty clothing. Zane sighed.

"Zack, you didn't…"

"Shut up," Zack muttered, heading for the kitchen for some ice.

Zane sighed again. Apparently he did.

Zane followed Zack into the kitchen. He found his brother slouched in a kitchen chair, and without a word he went to making the ice pack Zack had forgotten about making.

When he was done, he sat down by his brother, making the offering. Zack took the ice pack with a grumble that sounded sort of like a thank-you. But it never quite made it to that split lip.

Zack slammed the ice pack down on the table.

"Damn it!" he cussed.

Zane just shook his head. "How the hell you manage to fuck up so royally, Zack, I'll never know. As clumsy as you are, you should have shot yourself in the foot years ago."

Zack glared in his brother's direction, but he made no defense against his expertise with women. Or lack thereof.

"Marksmanship requires a different skill set," he muttered indignantly.

Zane grinned. "Different. But equally important. At this rate, you'll either end up a lonely, old man or a very dead, young one." Then Zane's expression sobered. "I guess you asked her."

Zack looked up at him, sharply. Sometimes it really got on his nerves when his brother did that – read him so well. But he supposed it was a time saver.

"Yeah," he replied.

Zane gave a low whistle. "Not smart, bro," he commented. Zack rolled his eyes.

Yeah, he'd kind of figured that out.

With a wince, Zack pressed the icepack to his lip. Usually, he could take a bullet and not flinch. But he was wincing now, though mostly in reference to his own stupidity than out of any true physical pain.

"I had to know," he said in his defense.

"And you couldn't have waited till *after* you sorted out all that other stuff?"

Zack shifted in his seat. Yeah, it was probably not smart to say the first 'I love you'…and ask Max if she was, in fact, carrying another man's baby…all in the same sentence.

Fuck! He deserved to be a very dead young man. When the hell would he stop doing things with Max the wrong way?

"I'm not good at waiting," he told Zane, to mask these thoughts.

Zane shrugged. "Well…you wanted to know. Guess now you know."

Zack blinked. "Yeah. Now I know…" Beneath the regret for having upset Max, and the anger at his own clumsiness, a good feeling started to grow within Zack. It was his baby. Max was carrying his baby. He was going to be the father to a baby; a *real* father, all the way through. It was an absurd thought, but a good one.

"So what are you gonna do now?" Zane asked. What did he have to do? Draw his brother a map?

Luckily, he didn't. Zack looked up at him with certainty.

"I'm going to go after her," he said.

"And then?"

Zack pressed the ice pack against his jaw with a raised brow.

"Then I'm probably going to get the shit kicked out of me again," he quipped. Zack sighed. "After that I'm going to propose."