Rafael’s laugh carries from the garden. Kane’s attention jerks sideways, catching sight of his boyfriend crouched beside Avery. Both of them are smiling and chatting near a bush of flowers.
Kane exhales and straightens.
“If you want to confess, save it for later.” He crosses his arms. “We’ve got more important business to discuss.”
“Confess?” Cipher’s vitals sharpen in his HUD. “No—we’re settling thisnow. Why do you thinkIgot Duke killed?”
His teeth clench. So much for staying on topic.
“It wasyou,” Kane bites out. “You and the lieutenants pushed that damn deal with the Neo Nostra for cheaper synth packs. Uncle wanted out. Said if we had to work with anyone new, it should’ve been the Thrashers. At least they wouldn’t ambush us to save a few credits.”
Cipher’s frown deepens.
“You all ignored him. Thought his stepping aside meant he was done. But he wasn’t. Uncle went to save your asses—and took a bullet for it. For all of us. And I hold you most responsible.” His hands ball into fists. “If the comms hadn’t been jammed that night, my uncle wouldn’t be dead—buried behind the house next door.”
He slouches into the chair, rubbing a hand over his face. The words don’t feel like relief, closer to something broken loose.
They stare at him, expression taunt. When Cipher finally speaks, they drag a hand down their face.
“You don’t think I’ve asked myself the same thing? Over and over for years. Wondering what I missed, what I could’ve done differently to save Duke’s life.” Their posture tenses. “Yeah, I signed off on the deal. I was there when Duke went down. But it wasn’t the deal we thought it was.”
Kane freezes. “What?”
Cipher lets out a shaky breath. “It was supposed to be with the Reds. That’s what Echo arranged before her leg got her sidelined. Duke wasn’t thrilled about it either, said we didn’t need to cut costs that badly. And I get that now. But we all agreed it made sense. Hell, we even ran the numbers twice.”
Their eyes narrow. “But when we got there, it wasn’t the Reds. It wasNostra.”
“That’s not what Echo told me.” He’s replayed the story too many times to forget a single detail.
“She didn’t know.” Cipher shakes their head. “She was in the dark. We all were. Because Athena switched the dealer at the last minute. Said Nostra would cut us a better deal, that we should start thinking long-term. And I should’ve shut it down. Except we were already low on stock and bleeding territory to Ulvepack. She made it sound like our only safe bet.”
They lean forward. “Only it wasn’t. Nostra double-crossed us, and your uncle, Dragan, Hallux—we all paid the price.”
His mouth opens. Cipher lifts a hand before he can demand answers. “I tried to tell you that night. But you were half-deranged with grief, and I was in shock, covered in Duke’s blood. Then you told me to get out. So I ran. Like a coward.” Their shoulders sink as they look away.
Kane’s hands curl into fists.
“That’s why I left. Couldn’t stand myself. For years, I bounced in and out of rehabs for synth addiction. Ended up outside the city, crashing with a friend in Rust Valley.”
Bitter laughter escapes them, head tilting up. “Can you believe that? Me without tech?” Cipher’s eyes soften as they glance over at their partner. “That’s where I met Avery. She wanted to be with me, my past and all. We stayed in the RustValley until that life wasn’t working anymore. And trust me, I debated whether I deserved to come here. But Avery helped me forgive myself and move on.”
“Why didn’t Echo tell me any of this? You had to know I’d find out,” Kane growls.
Cipher huffs. “Only place in the city I’ve ever called home.”
Something clicks into place. He did the same thing with Dragoon’s Rest.
Except Cipher came back. Kane never did.
He’s told himself there wasn’t time.
The house is barely ten blocks away.
“As for Echo,” Cipher continues, “despite her loud mouth, she knows when to keep it shut.” They snort. “But yeah, of course I knew you’d eventually find out. I guess… maybe I was secretly hoping to patch things up. Give me an excuse to explain things.”
Kane looks away.
“Damn it, Cipher. You should’ve told me sooner…” Kane mutters as his gut twists. He spent almost a decade hating—blaming the wrong person.